Friends and family are the portals to your past.

Memory isn't a filing cabinet you can search on command. It's more like a web—activate one node and others light up with it. Photos do this. Places do this. But most powerfully, people do this.

The friends and family who were there with you hold the keys to memories you can't access alone.

I felt this acutely this week. You can ask me to recount stories from my past, and I'll give you a few. But put me in a room with someone who was there? Suddenly memories I haven't touched in years come flooding back. Stories I'd forgotten I had. Details that were sitting dormant, waiting for the right trigger.

There's something almost magical about it. The shared experience creates a kind of resonance—their memory activates yours, yours activates theirs, and together you reconstruct something richer than either of you could alone.

And here's the thing: you don't just recall the past in these moments. You can reframe it. With the distance of years and the presence of someone who shared it, old experiences take on new meaning. What felt like failure at the time might look like growth. What seemed insignificant might reveal itself as a turning point.

Our people aren't just companions in the present. They're the keepers of our past—and sometimes, the ones who help us see it differently.