Such is the case with growing older. I can’t remember what I had for dinner two days ago, but I remember decades-old events like they happened yesterday.

For example, the bitterly cold day in February 1988 when the Olympic torch came through my hometown of Orillia.

The region had just received one of its legendary Georgian Bay streamers, dumping nearly 50 centimetres of snow on the Orillia-Barrie-Midland region in a two-day period.

But there was no way on earth I was going to miss the arrival of the 1988 Calgary Olympic Winter Games torch.

So off I went, camera bag in hand and notepad at the ready, to record the unique moment in time.

It was a festive day at the old city hall building on Coldwater Road, and elementary school kids were loving it because some schools let kids out of class to attend the ceremony.

The sidewalks hadn’t yet been plowed, so getting to the rally required walking very carefully along the side of the road.

Staying active and dressing warmly was a priority, with the temperature sitting at around -30 C – without the wind chill factored in.

But the music was playing and Olympic volunteers were leading children and adults in stretching and jumping games to keep them warm and flexible.

Those bent on breaking the law would have had a field day, as it seemed every police officer in the city was on patrol at city hall.

And when the torch finally arrived, little kids were hustled aside as a security envelope surrounded the runner and the torch as it moved toward the front of the stage.

All told, the torch might have stopped in the city 20 minutes, just long enough for the mayor and other dignitaries to briefly raise the actual torch.

But hundreds showed up, and it gave them a sense that all of the country was celebrating with Calgary as the countdown to the Olympics neared.

What I remember most about the torch run was the really cool uniforms the torchbearers wore.

They may be a little worn and torn now, but I’ll bet they still have a special place in the homes of those very same people who ran with the sacred flame.

They are special moments, indeed.

Moments in time that have me searching through boxes for the photos from that special day in Orillia.

December 2009 promises to be just as special for residents of our region. Make sure you grab your own camera, because the Kodak moments will be many.

I can’t wait.