There is this mythical parenting truth when it comes to pictures. It has often been said that when your first born comes along, you snap away. Not wanting to miss a single moment. With others that follow. Not so much.
I have scrapbook upon scrapbook of my oldest. Sports scrapbooks. Scrapbooks filled with field trip memories. School memories. Summer vacation memories.
You know, scrapbooks filled with pictures that often had to be printed from a roll of film.
I have maybe three of my middle. A total of one for my youngest. Barely completing that one’s baby scrapbook.
I didn’t stop capturing memories behind a lens. But as the kids grew, the lens changed. The media changed, and the method of storage did as well. Pictures that once filled creative albums now take up space on a digital album. Often on some phone app I rarely look at.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:16
I may take those scrapbooks off the shelf once in a blue moon (meaning not often at all). I may see an old digital memory on my Facebook highlights one morning that brings back some nostalgia.
But those pictures are not the memories. The days in our book are.
And while I will still take pictures, and I do believe that they will tell a story long after we are gone…I don’t believe they are the memory keepers.
The memory keepers are those moments that are never captured on your iPhone camera roll, but that you still talk about over breakfast.
They are the things for which we have no negative, but we can still remember in vivid detail.
Like watching babies sleep. Being hugged super tight. Rocking chairs on front porches. The book long after it is read. Recounting funny moments with friends over and over. The moment of your child’s birth. The moment you saw those lines. The moment they said, “Mommy.” “Daddy.” “Granpop.” “Grandma.”
These are the moments Kodak, Facebook, Instagram, or the iPhone can’t come close to retelling. These are the moments that don’t make the scrapbooks, but that live on even still. That are written down on the tablets of our hearts and minds to be shared for years to come.