In the end, the story of our lives will be engraved into the things we’ve loved. Long after I’m gone, for instance, my family may think of me when they see a blue Bic pen, a camera, hear a country music song, see a horse running, visit the mountains, eat a piece of chocolate, watch dandelions floating in the wind, or read pretty much anything. When I am no longer here, I can, for example, see them placing pages of things I’ve written with me because they know how comforting writing is. When my girls were small, I made a very conscious decision to learn how to make homemade bread specifically because I wanted to create memories of something that might strike them unexpectedly as adults and remind them of how loved they are. The process of kneading bread, the smell of a fresh loaf baking, are strong things that use multiple senses. My point is: what we love and spend time on, what we find comforting and meaningful, often involves places or things that become intertwined with others’ memories of us.

Growing up, I distinctly remember longing for a gold locket; as a teenager, I wanted one to carry a photo of my great-grandmother, Mama O. As an adult, I wanted one to carry a photo of my girls. While I did have a few lockets here and there over the years, they were never a thing with me (very, very, very tiny photos!); still, for some reason, I thought of a locket today and it made me think about why I used to love them. The spirit behind a locket — carrying the photo of a loved one with you everywhere — is something many do today via cell phones. If I meet you and ask about your family, you’d likely have a photo to show me right then by pulling your phone out. 

We love our people, so we keep them close.

That made me think about love; it’s one of the biggest emotions we have, and the source of all kinds of things, good and bad. It made me think of my girls, my family and the few individuals I’ve truly loved in my life. Thinking about those people made me remember ways they impacted my life, starting with my mother. She was the first to encourage my writing; she was the one to introduce me to the music of country music artists I’d grow to love; when I couldn’t face my extended family to tell them about the abuse, she hand delivered the letters I wanted my family members to read; she’s prayed over me my entire life, and taught me to believe no matter how hard things might be; she taught my sister and I that there will never be a better friend for either of us than each other. I thought of my sister whose energy has always inspired me; she’s the one person who first trusted me and who I trust the most; she’s the only one I’ve ever been able to laugh until I cried for absolutely no reason. I thought of my niece, Alissia, whose confidence teaches me what’s possible when we believe in ourselves; swinging with her at the park or riding rides at Disney with her lets me see the world through a lens of wonder. I thought of Alight, my youngest daughter, whose love of family traditions has helped create some precious memories; one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten was when Alight wanted to spend her birthday with me at Opryland for three years in a row; she’s funny, but she truly holds memories close to her; her perseverance and dedication inspires me while her love of My Little Pony and dogs motivates me to not hide the vulnerable parts of who I am; when she sits with me and brainstorms plot twists for my stories, or shares with me hers, I feel like I have a friend. I thought of Breathe, my oldest daughter, whose faith inspires me ; her love of music reminds me to sing; the way she holds tight to her dreams even through painfully hard circumstances encourages me to remember that dreams are worth fighting for; her quiet thoughtfulness in doing things like ordering gifts for her sister or making my bed when I’m gone makes me feel remembered. Each of these people have influenced who I am, and made me a better person. I love them. 

Love : if it were a tangible thing, what would it be made of?

If love were a recipe, its ingredients would vary depending on the person because while there are lots of people who are funny, it’s that person’s unique brand of humor that makes it one of the ingredients that I love about her. While there may be many people who are kind, it’s her individual kindness that sets her apart. So, love itself is hard to replicate or pinpoint because it’s not any one thing about someone that makes me love h/er; it’s how all of her characteristics interact together to make her her. Still, there is one common denominator across all the people I love: gratitude. 

No matter what else it is about that person that stands out, I am sometimes overwhelmed by how thankful I am for what s/he’s brought to my life. A heart of gratitude recognizes the gifts the people I love have given me; it acknowledges the time, effort and resources they’ve poured into my dreams and my life; gratitude prevents me from taking the ones I love for granted by noticing how much richer and fuller and happier my life is because of them. Gratitude is a form of humility and it keeps me actively looking for ways to positively impact their lives in return. Anything positive I’ve done is a reflection of the people who have poured of themselves into supporting me.

Gratitude shifts my perspective from feeling tired and overwhelmed to feeling hopeful and supported because when I am grateful, I realize anew that I am not alone; I don’t bear the full weight of the world without help. Wearing a locket, I might open it up and see the face of my great-grandmother and remember: someone has always loved me. That thought might then counteract negative self-scripts like, I’m a hindrance to those I love. Keeping photos of those I love easily accessible keeps the memories closer still; maintaing an active sense of gratitude for those people further deepens that relationship, which adds meaning and purpose to tomorrow.

In the end, it isn’t the objects–the locket, the pictures, the books, the place or anything else–that I will remember of those I love; rather, it is the time spent laughing, learning, confiding, crying or just being silly that will resurrect memories. And, for me, I am immensely thankful, come whatever else that may, to be the curator of all of those moments.