Matt, I think you're exactly right about the importance of the unexpected in our most memorable moments. What I've been trying to figure out, as someone who is a planner and envisioner, is how to let go more, in order to allow the unexpected to emerge. I guess this idea fits in with the several posts I've written about trying to be "less intentional," which in turn opens my life up to wonderful surprises. Thanks for your generous words and insights.

Jessica, that impulse your sister has lies in many of us, I think. Luckily, not all of us have the resources or determination to force all of the memory-making we envision into reality. I imagine that crafting perfect family moments ends up being stressful for everyone, because the expectations are so high, and the sense that perfection is possible is so tangible. That puts an unbearable amount of pressure on everyone, which is probably what your nieces/nephews are responding to. 

Rebecca, I would LOVE to non-plan your next birthday—if only it worked that way! :) It's interesting that you bring up tradition, because on S's b-day, when all of the candles were lit around the house, our oldest daughter said "Wouldn't it be fun if we had cake and played charades by candlelight on everyone's birthday, every year?" It's a lovely idea. By mixing tradition with new elements and surprises, our kids build a very rich set of memories to carry through life with them. (I'm still a big Yahtzee fan, btw. Next time you're in CU, let's meet for beer and Yahtzee!)

Writer Dad, yes, this is your kind of post, isn't it? Rich story and imagery, along with thoughts about how to move forward as parents and people, having learned something about ourselves and how the world works. So glad you enjoyed it, and that your blog is there to feed me in these soulful ways, too. 

Barbara, isn't that funny, the way memory works? And how it works differently for different people? My brother and I often compare memories of certain holidays or family vacations, and we tend to remember very different aspects and details. We each have our own unique memory lens.

Crow, my girls are "random memory" people, too. They remember details about houses they lived in when they were two, and certain plates they ate off of, and the CD that was playing when something happened. It's crazy. I guess there are two things at play here. One is just memory, in the most basic sense—what we remember. The other is story: Which of these memories become part of our personal cannon? Which memories are ones that will be told as stories, for years to come? Now that I think of it, maybe that's why I had such a nostalgic streak in me, even as a child—I always loved hearing and telling stories, and I longed to have my own stories to share.

Trina, thanks! I love how you put that: an "accounting of what was and what will be."

Delighted Scribbler, yes! "...filled with details perhaps no one else but you noticed and really obvious facts you missed because the most lasting part is the feeling of being nestled among the people you love." That's exactly right. I think it's healthy and good to long for nostalgia, as long as it's realistic, not forced, and doesn't keep us from experiencing the moment we're in.