One quiet morning, before my kids woke up, I found myself captivated by the shine of used aluminum capsules on the counter. Their stamped textures stirred a memory of my grandfather’s lunch box, a simple object that carried so much of his character. He was a collector of everyday treasures: stamps from holiday cards and Dole stickers from his lunchtime bananas. To me, these small acts were his way of acknowledging a good life and savoring the ordinary.

Looking at those capsules, I realized I had inherited his way of seeing.