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Hey Dad,

It's been a red-letter week here at the Wilson home. Not only did we celebrate my birthday, but we also celebrated the first snowfall of the year. As is tradition, we ate dinner at Long John Silver's (don't ask me how that one started), and we gave each of our children a new pair of gloves, or a new hat, or something "snowy."

As hard as it is to make time for celebrations, the important thing about them is that they create memories, and those memories bring strength, love, and comfort years later.

I just know that when my children are adults and see that first snowflake fall from the sky, they'll remember how much their dad loved snow and how much he loved them.

That's why I work hard at making and preserving memories—they help us remember what's important.

In fact, I just came up with a whopper of an idea. Not only does it preserve memories, but it also solves the problem of getting rid of all the junk my wife would like to toss, but I'm still emotionally attached to.

I'm calling it a memory tree. Actually, it's a tree that broke during a summer windstorm, leaving a 10-foot tall trunk behind. So, this past weekend I sawed off the jagged part, had my son Sam (12) carve a big "W" in it, and had my son Ike (8) nail my old favorite sandals to the trunk, plus a few other trinkets.

Voila! Memory tree. I envision a tree covered in old toys, shoes, wooden swords, and other memory-making junk in a decade or so. The kids will bring their own kids back and remember the important stuff as they point out junk on the memory tree and add their own.

Plus, now I don't have to throw it away! That's what I call killing two birds with one tree.

Now, you may not have a tree your wife will let you cover in junk, but maybe there's another way you can preserve memories. It might be a box filled with stuff, a garage wall covered in "treasures," or a 3-ring binder stuffed full of photos and memories.

Whatever you do, your children will come back to it, like the Israelites did with those rocks in the Jordan, point to it and say, "I remember that … and boy, did my dad love me."

You 'da Dad,

© 2007 Todd Wilson. Used by permission.

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