We are connected to our past and that of our families through what remains–a few people, and a few objects. These objects become a faint echo, resounding a barely audible insight. They remain silent for years as the objects lie still in a desk drawer, or the shoe box on the top shelf of the closet, until one morning a daughter decides to seek out these articles of her father, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. The perception by human eyes awakes a hum so slight to most–but in the daughter it resounds in the self beyond her own life, made up of the experiences of all these lost people.