Addicted to Creme Soda

I'm sitting in a rocking chair across the room from my napping nephew so my Dad can get a little away time and recover a bit with a can of Shasta creme soda next to me. I've been drinking a lot of these creme sodas the past few days and I can't seem to get enough of them, which is strange. I'm not a soda (pop) kind of person normally. I prefer water or gatorade or some juice or something else. It doesn't have any caffeine either so that can't be the explanation. It must be psychological, which got me thinking back.

Maybe I just really like creme soda, and to a large extent that is true, but there is something else, memories. A few years ago while I attended William Jessup University, I had some amazing time with friends. My time at WJU is pretty much all fond. I don't have any negative memories that I can think of. To clarify, I don't mean there aren't any painful memories, because there definitely were, but nevertheless they were good memories that I cherish. Some of those memories involve a get together a few of us had every Wednesday night for almost a year. My friends Kyle, Mike, Aaron, and I would regularly gather to play Risk (there were some other folk that would also play, but these were the regulars) of various versions (The second version of the original risk, LOTR risk, Risk 2210, and eventually Star Wars Risk). It was one of my favorite times of the week, and Kyle and I started picking up something to drink from the store to share with the guys for the night. If you have any deductive reasoning skills you can guess what it was. We would pick up a 6-pack each of Henry Weinhard's root beer, vanilla creme soda, and my favorite orange creme. It wasn't until I gave it some thought that I had attached such fond memories to the drink, but I realized whether I had known it or not the drinking of the creme soda made me feel good because of those memories. We do that as human beings, attach memories to sights, tastes, sounds, smells, and various sensations. I'm grateful that God has created us this way, otherwise there would be so many wonderful memories that I wouldn't think about without those sensory reminders.

For His Glorious Name,
Jason