My son discovered the luminous blue bicycle on his fifth Christmas, next to the tree. That cold morning, I led him along living room and dining room circuits as he got the hang of riding on two tires, with a lot of help from training wheels. He was still years away from any possible attempt at the Tour de France...and his only performance-enhancing drug was the exuberance of a little boy.
As I look back at my summer memories, I wonder why certain situations are vivid in my mind while others I'm not able to recall. When I have conversations with my sister and brother about our childhood, some we can reminiscence to the very minuscule detail while other stories... there is no recollection.
I have started my own practice of saving my treasures in my bottom right desk drawer. When I get an email from an overwhelmed surgical resident, thanking me for the lifeline one of my blog posts has given her, it goes in the drawer. When one of my patients reminds me of why I went to medical school, it goes in the drawer. Pick a drawer. Take the time. Start the practice.