08/20/2026
i wrote something to my daughter today that stopped me in my tracks.
i’ve been writing letters to her before she’s even here, and today I was telling her about the woman she’s named after: my grandma.
my grandma passed away recently, and one day I’ll get to show my daughter the legacy film I made of her. she won’t get to know her the way I did, but she’ll get to hear her voice. see her face. watch the way she smiled.
and what a gift that is.
my grandma almost always had a camera and a roll of film nearby && we have the hundreds of albums to prove it. i think she loved preserving memories. but somehow, she was also incredibly good at actually being in them.
&& I wrote this:
“the picture or video doesn’t have to be perfect. you just want to be able to look at it someday and remember exactly how that moment felt.”
i think somewhere along the way, especially in a world where everything can be photographed, edited, curated and shared, we’ve started putting a lot of pressure on memories to be beautiful.
but they don’t need to be.
take the blurry photo.
record their voice.
keep the mundane video.
get in the frame.
and then… put the phone down and be there.
because someday, the thing you’ll care about isn’t whether the photo was perfect.
you’ll just be really, really glad you have it. 🤍
