Many years ago, my son was milling about in a box I had set aside for Goodwill. Gasping, he pulled out a matchbox car destined to be a donation. “Mom don’t you REMEMBER this?! This was YOUR car! In all those races we had when I was little…?!” Quite honestly, I did not remember that I HAD a matchbox car designated for me. Often times during those races my mind would drift to my own agenda for the day or replay & analyze an interaction from the day before. In my defense, matchbox cars weren’t really my thing and I had a lot to get done each day before heading to the office. Yet it pains me that the fog of my own mental distraction separated me from even a single vivid memory of those races with a preschooler whom I treasured far more than any possible item on my to-do list. The fact that my son found those moments important enough to remember, right down to the car, was not lost on me.