When I look around my office, I see reminders of the people and places that have shaped my life. I’ve never been much of a collector of things for their own sake — what I keep tends to have a story attached to it. I guess you could say I collect moments.

There’s a picture of me and my grandson, Sully, in a frame my daughter Lizzi made by hand. My bourbon collection lines one shelf, but those bottles aren’t trophies — they’re memories of my trip to Kentucky, of long conversations and laughter with Scott and Tim. Each pour on that shelf carries a story of friendship and good days well spent.

My shot glass collection tells its own travelogue — small glass souvenirs from places I’ve been or from people who thought of me while they were away. There’s the wooden box Scott gave me when I was the best man at his wedding to Melissa, and another he gave me just because we both appreciate good bourbon and better company.

On the wall hangs a sign Lizzi made for me: “Daddy – My First Love.” Another, from my hometown of Odessa, Texas, declares, “Odessa: It’s Where My Story Begins.” And one more, from my dad, shows cowboys playing golf in the desert — a mix of humor and heart, just like him.

I suppose some people decorate their spaces with art or design. I decorate mine with memory. Everywhere I look, I see evidence of the people I love and the moments that made me who I am. I don’t need much else.

Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt.