Carrying Home What Matters

We were on vacation last week—seven days of sun and warm breezes; food not usually on our menu; mini-golf; morning walks on the beach and evening sunsets.
A week of building memories.

When I go on vacation, I love coming home with a new coffee mug, a long-sleeve t-shirt, or a cozy sweatshirt. My trip doesn’t feel complete without one. But lately, I’ve started reflecting on why these things matter so much—especially the coffee mug, since I could already serve coffee to an army from our kitchen cabinet.

At first glance, it’s simple: they remind me of where I’ve been. A name printed across the front, a logo from a little beach café, a mountain scene wrapping around a mug. But it’s more than that. Each one holds a memory of how I felt in that place—unhurried, relaxed, maybe even a little more myself.

On a gray Tuesday morning when life feels routine, I can pour my coffee into that mug from Hilton Head. When we’re headed for a snowy January afternoon movie date, I can slip into the sweatshirt I bought in the mountains. And for just a moment, I’m transported back. I remember the sound of the waves, the easy laughter, the slower breathing. I remember the deeper conversations—the ones you don’t have on tired evenings. My heart remembers the feeling of connection, of love, of belonging.

The souvenir becomes a small bridge between there and here—between who I was when I let go and who I’m trying to be when life speeds back up.

Most of us can’t live our lives on the beach or in a lakeside cabin. But we can carry pieces of those places home—tiny reminders that joy and rest aren’t confined to a trip; they’re part of who we are when we pause long enough to notice.

Maybe the real reason we bring home souvenirs isn’t to remember where we were, but to remember who we were when we were there—
the version of ourselves who knew how to slow down, breathe deeply, and love fully.

Maybe the real souvenir… is the reminder.