I got into an old box of photos last night after my husband got home from work. Sometimes it’s easier for me to go upstairs when he gets home, because the girls are more laid back when I’m out of sight.
I’m fairly certain I’ve lost a huge amount of photos because of a stupid decision I made with my iCloud account several years back. Since it’s painful for me, it kind of haunts me, and I haven’t just called someone at Apple to confirm or deny this loss. But here in an old shoe box were a few precious prints of my time in Greece (and some from France and Sweden, too). I think if this is all that’s left, that’s OKAY. It’s like a small win of the hundreds of others are gone. I mean, when my husband did a gap year (through the same agency, but 15 years before me) he didn’t even bring a camera. I have to remember, in this age of constantly capturing and “remembering” through screens instead of eyes, it can be okay to pare down.
It’s still heartbreaking, though, to lose images and sometimes memories with them, but I’m learning maybe it’s an opportunity for gratitude. To focus on what I have, and not mourn what I have lost.
More thoughts on that here
Nora Wormwood 