Memories Over Equity: The Origins

Dan and I live in what I call our little shoebox house. It is about 1200 square feet of living space nestled between two fields on the farm. One big room takes up a third of that for cooking, dining, relaxing. A tiny bath down a short hall holds our washer/dryer, then two bedrooms in the back; one for us and a smaller for guests. And do we ever have guests! It seems each weekend we have anywhere from one to thirty friends over. (I’m not going to lie; my baked goods are probably more the attraction than my company.)

One single guy, Dan’s lifelong friend Todd Thompson, becomes our constant companion. It doesn’t seem to matter what we do to entertain ourselves; with Todd in tow, the house is full of life and laughter; whether it’s he and Dan coming in from rabbit hunting and teasing me about their success, or them giving our cat Lara an airborne experience in one of my sheets, Dan on one end, Todd on the other. (I beg them to quit torturing the cat, but she actually loves it. As soon as they put her off the sheet, she hops back on and looks at them expectantly.)

Many weekends we go out with Todd and married friends Karen and Brent Taylor, then wind up back at our house for brownies. Sometimes it’s pizza on Friday, dinner and a movie on Saturday, and the Lucky Seven for ice cream Sunday night. We get into such a habit of spending our weekends together, by Wednesday of the next week, Karen and I are saying, “What should we do this weekend?” Todd tells us this is perfectly normal behavior for Yuppie types, or DINKS (double income no kids). The accountant among us notices the group’s spending growing at a more and more alarming rate.

One particular night after dishing out way too much money and laughing our heads off once again about silly inside jokes, we bemoan the state of our checking accounts. Out of the ever-witty mouth of Todd Thompson comes, “We’re building memories, not equity,” spoken in his best TV personality voice. It’s perfect and permanently imprints on my gray matter. I am released from any guilt about our pre-kid spending habits and we enjoy every minute spent in the little shoebox among such great company.

Eventually, Karen and Brent will move to Oklahoma and grow into a family of five. Todd will marry an amazing and equally witty woman, Jeannie, and they’ll grow four kids of their own in Florida. Todd is to become, of all things, an equity builder. Dan will ask him to manage our retirement accounts. Thus, he’ll build us a nest egg to go with the memories. Dan and I will outgrow our little shoebox house; but we’ll look forward to reunions with these dear friends and their kids when they visit New Jersey, filling our new house with many memory building times.

Epilogue

To our great loss the tent holding Todd’s “virtual plethora” of witticisms, and the equally valuable portfolio of memories, is folded for the time. Memories far outweigh the equity he built with us. Yet of infinitely more value than my memories or financial growth is the promise most precious to Todd of true treasure in Heaven. He knew the Way, Truth, and Life that prepared for him a spacious dwelling. Our hearts are crushed that the visits we looked forward to, of sitting around a dinner table and filling our accounts with more memories, is delayed by his untimely death. Until we meet Todd at Jesus’ feet, I remain overwhelmed with gratitude for our faithful friend, and trust the One who opened the door to welcome him in will hold this precious asset close.