After organizing decades and terabytes worth of images recently, I realized that I rarely take time to appreciate these images. I have thousands of images of my daughter, but I never look at them. They are stored in the dark, collecting digital dust. I want the best camera I can afford, so I can create photos that are forgotten. That doesn’t make sense.
Some of these photos will come in handy when old age catches up and my memories fail me. I prefer not to wait that long.
Despite their neglect, these digital memories mean everything to me and to anyone else, they would mean nothing. Sure, they represent my photography skills that grew along as much as my daughter has grown, but they are not award-winning compositions either. But they mean the world to me. If my home catches fire, the iPad and the hard drives are coming with me. Everything else can be replaced.
These precious digital files captured moments that will never happen again. They tell stories of where we were, how we were doing, and remind us of how blessed we are.
Despite all this realization, I will still take photos, knowing they may never again be viewed unless I re-organize them. I will continue to purchase external hard drives and upgrade my iCloud storage to fill them up.
One of these days, I will have them displayed out in the open in a paper format, be it in a book or a frame. They mean everything to me.
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