From JuJu with Love

I picked up a frame from the framer this week and carried it downstairs to hang in my basement. At first glance, it looks like a collage of old ticket stubs — concerts, plays, musicals, and sporting events I’ve attended over the years.

But once it was hanging on the wall, I realized something.

This isn’t just paper.

It’s my life.

Every ticket holds a memory. Who I was with. Where we traveled. What was happening in my life at the time. The laughter, the excitement, the road trips, the weekends away, the spontaneous decisions to say, “Sure, let’s go.”

Some of these events happened close to home. But many of them took me on the road.

There’s the Lady Gaga concert in Toronto — a whole adventure built around one night of music, crossing the border to visit friends and making a weekend out of it.

And in true Juju fashion, the night included a little unexpected comedy.

It was my first time trying to use Facebook Live, and I was so excited to share the concert in real time with friends back home. Jennifer and I were determined to make it work.

Except instead of filming Lady Gaga on stage, the camera was pointed at us the entire time.

So while Gaga was performing, my friends watching at home got a live broadcast of Jennifer and me in the audience, squinting at the phone, poking buttons, whispering, “Is this working? Why isn’t this working?” and trying to figure out how Facebook Live even functioned.

To this day, Jennifer and I still laugh about it.

Lady Gaga was singing her heart out… and we were accidentally starring in our own comedy show.

There’s the Michigan football game at Cowboys Stadium in Dallas, traveling to watch the Wolverines play far from Ann Arbor, surrounded by maize and blue in the middle of Texas.

And then there are the Rose Bowls. Three of them. Trips to Los Angeles filled with sunshine, parades, tailgates, and the kind of memories you relive every New Year’s Day when the game comes back on TV.

Mixed in are Broadway shows from girls’ trips to New York City — bright lights, late nights, shared hotel rooms, laughter echoing down busy streets, and the magic that only live theater brings.

Concerts. Musicals. Games. Shows.

But when I look at the frame, I don’t actually remember the seats or even always the performances themselves.

I remember the people.

Friends I traveled with. Family I cheered beside. Road trips, airport runs, dinners before shows, late-night conversations afterward. Celebrations, reunions, traditions that started without us even realizing it.

These tickets are proof of something I’ve learned over time:

Experiences matter more than things.

Somewhere along the way, I started saving ticket stubs without really thinking about it. Toss them in a drawer, a box, a pile. And now, looking at them framed together, I see a timeline of joy — moments when life paused just long enough to go have fun.

To cheer louder.

To sing along.

To laugh harder.

To make memories.

And the best part?

There are still empty spaces waiting for future tickets.

More trips.

More games.

More shows.

More stories still to come.

Turns out, the best souvenirs I’ve collected over the years aren’t things at all.

They’re the moments, the people, and the memories made along the way.

And I’m not done collecting them yet.

From Juju with love 💙