I’d never been on an airplane before I came here for the first time. When I’d watch one fly overhead, I didn’t consider a person inside it, pressing their forehead against the window, seeing the towns below as nothing more than colors and shapes: beige square, green circle, jagged brown triangle.

On my way here for the second time, I realized that below me, someone must be standing there watching like I used to, full of hopes and dreams and wishes and wants, pains and truths so large they could reach up and touch my plane. No matter how hard I looked, I never saw that person. They never saw me.

Both of us were there.

It’s up to every one of us to realize that a white sliver in the sky is not only an airplane, and the earth below it is not only colors and shapes. It is people inside of people inside of people, all of us filled with pieces of the ones who came before us. We hold on to their strengths and their weaknesses. Their memories. Their laugh. Their scent. Their spirit.

Believe me.

Just believe at all, because it always takes more than one person to strengthen the power of something. If ever someone stops believing—gives up hope and accepts that someone is lost forever—there is another person who has to try harder. Hold on tighter. Sometimes too tight.

The beautiful thing is, if the person who gave up finds the courage to return, to pick back up what they’ve tried to leave behind, the load is lighter for all.

I want everyone to remember that.

There’s so much to remember, isn’t there? How can we ever keep track of it all?

With the help of others, of course.

In the endless stream of things to keep track of, my name and my story might get misplaced as years pass. But by being here now, I will remain somewhere inside of everyone I’ve ever met. I will be remembered through them in ways they might not notice. They will pass me on to their family and friends. I’ll go out and out until I’ve touched all corners of the earth, just by stepping outside of my small town and into the bigger world. I will not look the same as I do to myself or those that know me. But I will be in every beige square and green circle, waving my arms at the people inside the planes overhead.

Marley’s wishes are now my wishes are now my friend’s wishes are now the next person’s, and so on and so on.