My sons always ask me why I take so many pictures. They roll their eyes, laugh, and tell me I’m doing too much. But I remind them,  I was once their age, and I used to hate pictures too. Back then, technology wasn’t what it is today. Cameras weren’t always in our hands, and even when they were, film and prints cost money. Because of that, I don’t have many photos of myself as a child, and the few I do have feel like treasures.

Even in sad moments, pictures are powerful reminders, not just of where we’ve been, but of how far we’ve come. Sometimes I look back at photos from my single-mom years, and honestly, I barely remember taking them. I was in survival mode, just doing my best to raise my boys and make it through each day. But when I look at those pictures now, I see smiles. I see joy. My kids even point to them and say, “Oh, I remember that day,  that was a fun one.” It’s wild how an image can freeze a moment you were too tired to notice back then.

Recently, I stumbled across photos from when my mom was in the hospital before she passed. For a second, it broke me all over again, but then, I felt grateful. Grateful to have those moments captured. Grateful to see her face, her hands, her presence frozen in time. Those pictures remind me that grief and love can live side by side, and that sometimes, the hardest pictures to look at become the most meaningful ones later.

An old coworker of mine passed away not long ago. The first thing I did was scroll through my phone, looking for pictures of us from back in the day. When I found them, it felt like opening a time capsule, laughter, shared moments, memories that outlived the both of us being in the same space.

So take the pictures. Even when you don’t feel like it. Even when your hair’s not done or the moment doesn’t feel “special.” Because one day, those pictures will tell your story, the beauty, the struggle, the growth, the love. They become proof that you were here, living through it all.

Take the pictures. Your future send will thank you!