As I waited inside the train, heading to Alexandria, a peculiar idea crossed my mind that I'd like to share with you.

If you were forced today, without any preparation, to pack a single suitcase for a journey with no return, what would you place in it?

And what if you were asked to list the people you'd take with you on this trip? Would you be ready to commit to spending the rest of your life with them?

Truthfully, the idea seemed constructive, expressive, and slightly intense to me.

One of the significant features of our world is that it offers numerous opportunities, and often gives you time to learn and grants you the luxury to rectify your mistakes. But if you alone decide who accompanies you on your journey, there's no turning back, no altering the choice.

This wild mental image is suitable for training you to deal with the real world, not necessarily living through it. It also presents a profound notion about the great blessing in your life: the ability to always have a choice.

As you read these lines, I see items arranging themselves in your mind. Yet, I observe you jotting down dozens of things, then tearing up the page and drafting another list. If you're doing this, you still haven't figured out how you wish to go through life and what legacy you prefer to leave behind.

I'm certain about what I'd pack in my personal suitcase.

Inside my travel bag, I'd place memory storage for photos and videos, photographs of my children and loved ones, love letters and mementos, gifts from my children and dear ones—even those worn by time and no longer in use—anything precious that brought me joy, snippets of papers bearing kind words, some cassette tapes and videos, a few books, and the diaries that shaped my essence.

I'd reserve a special corner for simple memories of loved ones who left me: my father's glasses, my grandfather's hat, some college letters signed by my uncle when he was the dean of postgraduate studies, an empty perfume bottle that evokes deep memories.

In an exceptionally private corner, I'd place my children's hairbrushes and locks of their hair that I kept when they were just two months old, cinema and tram tickets from sweet outings on which I'd jot down the day's best events, gifts from my children when they were little, pieces of paper bearing their sentiments, and the beauty of their tiny hearts.

I'd carry emotions penned down in colorful notebooks and some childhood memories.

There'd be no space left for my clothes. I'd carry every card someone wrote, expressing their enduring love for me, my grandmother's tray and her handbag and watch, and my mother's necklace that she inherited from her mother, along with her red Samsonite bag.

Perhaps, I'd bring along a pair of birds dear to my heart, the key to the first car I ever owned and still keep, my children's first sandals, and the few remaining pieces of their clothes.

You know, my friend, I'd also remember those quotes I placed on my desk that always propelled me forward. Pictures of my fiancé during our engagement that accompanied my line of sight on my office wall, who later became my husband, and many other simple things...

I'll strive to pack cherished memories, not necessarily valuable ones. But the most challenging and essential question remains: who would I bring along?

I won't list names, but it's better to tell you about their qualities.

At the top of my list would be those who reciprocated my love with warmth, those who supported and uplifted me during my falls, those who felt the sting in my heart before I felt pain, those who wished me well every step of the way, and those who took pride in my achievements and progress.

Those who made my world beautiful, who helped me remain virtuously in it, and who were a constant companion through its ups and downs, would accompany me.

I would bring along my friends and brothers, though not born of my mother, who were my support throughout the journey and whose hands were always gentle with my heart.

The list of individuals would be very long, for God has blessed me with many dear ones and trustworthy friends who have graced my life... and still do.

The best achievement in life is to remain a pleasant memory in someone's heart, to be called upon during tough times, to be a reliable shoulder and strong support, to be sought not out of necessity but because someone feels your essence, and to leave someone with the certainty that you wouldn't abandon them even if they found someone better than you.

For a significant part of my life, I used to support without being asked, to give and love giving without worrying about where to give. Then came people who didn't deserve the love; they taught me about maturity, forced it upon me, and were one of the main reasons for enlightenment in my life.

The vile human has a significant favor upon you, for he is the first to teach you the value of loyalty and its importance, the necessity of sticking with the good ones, how to preserve them, and the benefit of relying on a trustworthy, kind-hearted individual.

A few years back, I wasn't sure if that list was a winning, genuine one or just a figment of my imagination. But today, I truly know!