While visiting my parents not too long ago, I found in what used to be my bedroom closet, the only thing I remember about the entire experience.
A pin my brother, who was about eight years old at the time, bought for me in the gift shop.
He's had a lot of sucktacular days lately and I think he has a few more to push through before coming out the other side stronger. As much as I hate the thought of parting with my tangible memory, I'm thinking of sending it back to him. I don't recall how it made my four-year-old self feel when he gave it to me but I imagine it must have made me feel like everything was going to be okay simply because I knew I was loved.
Here's hoping twenty something years later, it can do that again.
