Pants pockets hold all kinds of objects. We put everything from coins to socks, gum to gloves, sun glasses to cell phones in our pockets. They hold the things that mean a lot to us and things that are trash. We trust them to hold those things until we're ready to use or discard the items.
As we go through the days of our lives, we accumulate all sorts of experiences. Our memories hold our response to those experiences in much the same way as our pockets hold the things we stuff in them. And we can pull out the memories when we need them. I can pull out some of my crowning experiences and those that I wish I could really forget. I can pull out the moments I have learned great lessons and the minutes that brought particular joys. I can revel in the scenes that helped me achieve and relive pictures of paralysis.
But there is one pocket I go to often because it brings to mind the days from a year of complete, unadulterated, pure, pleasurable, utterly enjoyable happiness, full of vibrant life and laughter, replete with smiles, brimming with the essence of life. It is a very worn pocket, even though only five years old, and I am thankful to have it so stuffed.
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