John and I have enjoyed leading marriage renewal days over the years. One of the things we often do is to invite people to bring three sentimental objects. People show up with necklaces, photographs, faded T-shirts. They gaze at each other and retell the stories that have woven their lives into a tapestry.

 

Last month a couple brought their heart jar. They started it a few years ago, filling it with brief messages of affection. There are allusions to inside jokes, their children's names, tender memories. They take hearts out to read together, to dip into the inexhaustible supply that is their inheritance. When they think of it they inscribe new paper hearts, to chronicle fresh connections.

 

Sometimes couples forget that the cache is even there, because the door has swung shut from a Nordic gale. But each of us holds the brass key to open it whenever we choose, and sometimes when we don't.