We spend the morning making Valentines, talking about the people we love, and how love makes us feel. After lunch I get out my mom’s old button box and I let him play. We sort them by color, working together side by side, talking. Sometimes he holds one up, asking what it came off of, and I do my best to remember. I tell him the button box is a symbol of love for me, a way I remember my mother, wondering how I explain love to a four year old? But he doesn’t question this and seems to understand. Later, after he has gone home, I think about how I am building memories for him. I wonder what he will remember about a table full of cut out hearts, purple glue-sticks and stickers. I wonder if he will remember the button box. I wonder what he will remember about me.