Memories weigh less than souvenirs

When I placed the gigantic suitcase on the scale at the airport almost two weeks ago, it registered two pounds over the 50-pound limit.

So, I did what many over-packers like myself have done; I dug out a few items and tossed them into my friend’s suitcase. It seemed like a logical decision, as just moments before, she boasted that her suitcase weighed well under the 50-pound allotment, according to her bathroom scale. But, as it turned out, the few items I tossed into her luggage, tipped the scale just over the 50-pound mark.

So, we did what many over-packers like ourselves have done, we dug out a few items and tossed them into her carry-on bag.

Mission accomplished.

Knowing our bags were already on the cusp, I was mindful of the souvenirs that I purchased along the way of our travels through the Caribbean. I’ll admit, I pondered for a bit of time on a unique table lamp I spied in Curacao, but opted to leave it on the shelf. Instead, I plucked a t-shirt off the rack there, a sweatshirt in Aruba (despite the blazing heat and humidity), and several pieces of one of my true addictions in life, jewelry. (I mean, what girl doesn’t love a little sparkle?)

Perusing the stores on our island stops for unique treasures is surely part of the fun of the adventure. And I love to shop, especially for jewelry, clothing, shoes and home décor, all of which I really don’t need. I have to say, I surprised myself by saying “no” to my addiction more than once.

“Memories,” I kept in the back of my mind, “don’t weigh as much in the suitcase as souvenirs.”

I came home with an assortment of “weightless” memories. I’ll long remember the 80-some-year-old grandmother, Mimi, who I met relaxing in the deck chair next to mine early on in the voyage. Our paths crossed several times during the week, and we were fortunate to exchange farewells on the morning of our departure at breakfast.

There were no souvenirs to buy here, only memories to take away from our casual meeting.

During a tour of Aruba – by the way, the island measures just 19.6 miles in length and is only six miles wide – we were serenaded by a class of kindergartners. Honestly, it was so precious to see them come running out to greet our bus. They waved hello. They smiled big. And then, they entertained us with a song.

Again, there were no souvenirs to buy, only a memory to behold.

For the first time in my six decades of life, I climbed aboard and piloted a jet ski. I mean, why not do something I’ve never done before hundreds of miles away from my preferred medical provider?

I’ll admit, I had to give myself a pep talk – “You can do this, Jill” – before hammering down on the throttle. What I quickly learned is that the faster I zoomed across the Caribbean waters, the easier it was to steer.

Once again, no souvenirs to buy, but a good memory of a “bucket-list” item achieved.

While souvenirs are the visible memories we take away from our experiences in life, it’s the memories we make along the way that are both priceless – and weightless.