A few weeks ago, I gathered in Maine with my relatives for a memorial service for my aunt who passed away last winter at the age of 97. As I think about Aunt Evelyn, I remember that she made me feel that I was important to her. As the youngest of the cousins, visits could easily be the older cousins hanging out together, the adults chatting, and me sitting observing everything. But Aunt Evelyn would notice me and talk to me directly. She wanted to know how I was doing, asked me questions, and sincerely wanted to know about me. She would tell me funny stories about her life, her friends, whatever. She was fun to be with and I looked forward to her visits. She made me feel seen.