The Love Language of Remembering

With the holiday season approaching – a time wrapped in ribbons, reunions, and reflections – I’ve been thinking about the quieter love languages.

The ones that aren’t loud or performative. The ones that say the most without saying much at all.

Mine has always been gifting and handwritten notes – not because I believe objects equal love, but because I believe thoughtfulness does.

A meaningful gift is a translation of memory:

I listened.

I noticed.

I cared enough to remember something you never repeated.

I learned the depth of that language when I lived in Milan – a chapter of my life painted in espresso tones and my focus was solely fashion.

Milan taught me about tailoring – not just in clothing, but in connection. The precision of paying attention. The elegance of subtlety. The impact of the details most people overlook.

During that time abroad, there was someone back in the States. We never dated, though if timing and courage were currencies, maybe we would have.

But feelings don’t require titles to be real.

One day, I opened my tiny mailbox in Milan to find a postcard – and tucked inside was a printed photo of us at a date party. We were smiling like we believed the world would always keep us only a few streets apart.

I remember sitting on the edge of my bed, holding that postcard and picture like it was proof of something distance couldn’t dilute – that we were still thought of, still valued, still seen by someone miles and oceans away.

And if – by some twist of fate – you’re reading this (which I sincerely hope your not)… just know that moment taught me more about love languages than any relationship status ever could.

Because gifting – real gifting – is not about the item. It’s about the intention.

A postcard from a familiar skyline. A photo with a memory attached. A reminder that someone paused their life long enough to think of you.

As the holidays unfold, may we remember that the most meaningful gifts usually fit in an envelope. The best words are often handwritten. And the impact of being remembered – truly remembered – lasts for longer than anything wrapped in ribbon.

Until the next business day –

may we give thoughtfully,

receive openly,

and cherish the people who speak in love language of remembering.

One Business Day