We were never big on souvenirs. I’m still not. It was and always will be about the experience. 

Whenever we’d visit a new place in Chicago, or New York or somewhere in between, my mom would say, “I can’t wait to read about this later.”  What she meant was the excitement of having been somewhere, knowing the place, and having it mentioned unexpectedly in the next book, feeling the connection…being able to nod one’s head and heart in full agreement of “I’ve been there.” 

And isn’t it the same with living? We look to those who have survived what we’re going through. As a comfort, a connection. Or for that boost of encouragement, a proof of what can be done.  We are the stories. The words on a page. Meant to be shared. We are the souvenirs. The precious gifts to remember. To pass along.

The morning sun turns the page…and so it begins.