I found myself asking that very question today as we sold my son’s hockey helmet. He was fine with it—I was the one struggling to let it go. But why? Because that helmet wasn’t just a piece of equipment; it was a symbol of some of my most cherished memories—watching my twin sons play hockey.

For years, I sat in cold rinks three times a week for practice and spent weekends cheering them on at games. We traveled often, and I saw those trips as mini-vacations—precious time together, “stuck” in the car, where conversations flowed more freely than they ever did at home. Every parent knows those car rides are where you truly get to hear your children’s thoughts, their laughter, and their dreams.

Letting go of that helmet feels like closing the door on a chapter of our lives. And the truth is, I wasn’t ready for the book to end. I had hoped my son would continue playing in college, like so many of his teammates. But he had a different plan. “I’m not going to college to play hockey,” he told me. “I’m going for an education.”

Wow. In that moment, I had to ask myself—who was the parent here? While his words filled me with bittersweet sadness, they also filled me with immense pride. My son knows who he is and what he wants.

It’s hard to let go of the physical reminders of the past, but we don’t need to hold onto things to keep the memories alive. Those moments—the long car rides, the excitement of the games, the quiet conversations—are etched in my heart, not in the helmet.

Because, in the end, it’s not the things we keep that matter most—it’s the memories, the lessons, and the love that stays with us forever.