By Lois Barth, Human Development Expert, Leadership & Motivational Speaker, Executive Coach, and Author

My dad’s birthday is November 3rd. He has been gone for several decades, and each year, I think of him on his birthday, as well as throughout the year. Some years, I talk to his picture; other years, I write social media posts. There are also years when I have quiet, tender moments thinking about him and wondering how he’s doing on the other side and what he might be up to. I do believe in the hereafter and reincarnation. This year, with so much going on—the NYC Marathon and what I, and many others, consider the most important election in U.S. history just two days away—I didn’t initially plan to do anything to celebrate or memorialize my dad. I thought it would be more of a private, quiet day of reflection.

Then I had an idea: Why not ask my brother and sister if they have any stories or moments they shared with Dad that I might not know about? They both came through.

My brother shared a memory from when he was a little boy. He was scared on a spinning wheel ride at a carnival, and my dad looked him in the eyes and said, “Steverino, just look at me.” Immediately, my brother felt comforted by looking into my Dad’s kind eyes.

My sister shared some political views my dad held, which surprised me because he rarely discussed politics. However, it was clear that he lived by a deep moral code of ethics and respect.

I also shared my own story about how he helped me overcome my fear of the water by showing me what was possible once I learned to swim. That was my first lesson in leadership: you can’t make someone do something, but a true leader inspires them toward a vision.

By evening, I found myself tearing up—not necessarily from sadness, but from feeling blessed and lucky to have had him as a dad, and yes, acknowledging how much I miss him.

Stories and memories continue the legacy of our loved ones. Embedded in these stories are their identities, values, and unique traits, which bring us back to those sacred moments that, in our day-to-day lives, we often forget to reflect upon.

Tonight, I realized that it takes courage to slow down, feel, and engage with the memory of someone we’ve lost and to appreciate the important relationships in our lives. If we don’t take that time, we end up running on autopilot. We miss the gift of opening our hearts and understanding how we are impacted by those around us, and our hearts can become calloused, with joy lying dormant.

So, I ask you today: what stories can you share or seek out from people in your life? Stories that will break your heart open and connect you to someone you miss love, and who had a profound impact on your life. I would love to know.

Here’s a picture of my dad, Ben Barth, who, to me, embodied what leadership is all about.