Wow, what a powerful question.
I would probably pick my Mamaw. She passed away when I was barely a teenager and I really didn't get to appreciate how amazing she was. My mamaw was funny, sassy, spiritual, and brutally honest. I like to believe that I'm a lot like her. Even though we came together for holidays, I never sat down and really talked with her and part of me regrets getting to know her.
I would take her to Tennessee, up in the mountains next to the river. The weather would be during Fall so the leaves would be in the midst of turning, falling into the river and floating down the stream. Maybe I would pack a picnic, a basket full of slim-jims and yoo-hoos. When I was little, she would always take me to get them, every time. I'd lay out a blanket on the hill, overlooking the water and just talk to her about everything. Her life, the experiences she had, the jokes she knew, all of it. Then, when it grew dark we'd climb into her giant van and go to her house, just so I could smell it one last time and capture that scent forever.