by Nathaniel Carampatana
I was sitting in my room, sifting through an old shoebox filled with faded photographs. The edges were worn, and some of the images were creased from being handled too many times. Each picture felt like a relic, a tangible connection to a past that now seems distant but still deeply present in my heart.
There was my mom, holding my eldest brother, who smiled awkwardly. Another photo showed my dad and uncles, dressed in their semi-formal clothes, jeans, and shoes that echoed the fashion of their time. And then there was me, small and innocent, smiling while my elder brother sneaked up behind me, ready to scare me.
These were moments that seemed so insignificant when they happened. But now, they are everything. These tiny, imperfect slices of life carry a weight I never could have imagined back then. When we took those photos, nobody cared much about perfect lighting or angles. They were just snapshots– raw, unpolished, and so full of love that their imperfections only made them more real.
I wonder sometimes, had we not taken those photos, would I still remember all these little moments?
Maybe. But there’s something about a photograph that keeps memories alive in a way nothing else can. Photos, especially candid ones, don’t just remind us of what we’ve lived. They take us back. They pull us into the past, making us feel like we’re right there again, inside those fleeting moments. It’s like stepping through a portal, finding yourself once more in the center of a memory long gone.
We often overlook these everyday moments, focusing instead on capturing life’s big milestones — birthdays, graduations, weddings. Those are important, but when I sift through that box of photos, it’s the quiet moments that hit the hardest. It’s the simple, unplanned shots that stir the deepest emotions. These small moments like someone laughing, the blur of a hand reaching for something, a random pose, are the heartbeats of our lives. They don’t scream for attention, but looking back, they’re everything.
Looking through these old photos, I realize those “insignificant” moments were never small at all. They are the moments that made up my life, the moments I turn to when I want to feel the love, warmth, and comfort of family again. They are pieces of the past that I never knew I’d miss.
I used to think there would always be more time, and more chances to capture the big moments. But life isn’t like that. People age, children move away, and relationships shift. Time slips by, sometimes so quietly that you don’t notice until it’s gone.
The photos in that shoebox weren’t of milestones or major events. They were of everyday life; the messy, unfiltered moments. And those are the ones I treasure most. I wish I had taken more pictures of those small, quiet moments: my dad herding cattle, my mom tending to her plants. These were the real stories of our lives.
So take the photo. It doesn’t need to be perfect. Capture your loved ones as they are, amid ordinary life. Years from now, you won’t care about the imperfections. What will matter is that you captured a moment in time, a slice of your shared life. These snapshots will hold you to those moments, anchoring you to the memories that shaped who you are and reminding you of the love that filled your days.
Take the photo, because one day, you’ll be glad you did.
