I'm am sitting here in another one of my melancholy funks thinking about my mother. I am thinking about my trip to visit my sister in Virginia Beach during Christmas of 1984. My nephew, Martin Miller VanBuren III, was born that November, and my parents, maternal grandparents, and I all traveled there to spend the holiday celebrating the first child born to our family of his generation.

There are a lot of memories from that short visit that flood my mind. But the one that is haunting me today was but a tiny flash of time during the preparation of Christmas dinner. My mother was in the kitchen helping my sister make sage dressing. I was on the other side of the counter, standing in the dining room, videotaping her with my new super-expensive Panasonic video recorder. It was one of those huge setups that involved holding a large camera on your shoulder while wearing a heavy VCR strapped to you the whole time. I had bought it from an add in my American Express bill.

Mom, was in a playful mood that day. As she chopped onions and whatnot, she pretended she was Julia Child. It was hilarious. I captured it on tape, but can not find it. I have looked for it ever since my mother passed in 2008. That one tape holds some other significant moments, as well. It is some of the only video I ever got of my granparents, including a view of them walking in the sand hand-in-hand during a short visit to the beach on an unusually warm December day. It also includes video of my nephew, who died in a fire in 2007, and my dad, who passed in 2011.

I long to see that video. I need to see that video. I just texted my sister, Patti. Maybe she has a copy. How sad it would be for that special video to be lost forever.