I saw a photograph today.
A simple one — a group of women on a beach, sunbathing.
Mother and daughters, or sisters, or simply friends who felt like family.
Their hair tied back with scarves, swimsuits with soft curves, the kind of carefree laughter the 1950s seemed to capture so well. A day without hurry. A day without thinking too far ahead.
You could almost hear Memories in the background —
“Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind…”
And what struck me wasn’t just the image.
It was the story we can’t see.
Who took the photograph?
What was the joke that made them laugh?
Where were they in life — the beginning of something? The middle of everything? Or holding on, just a little, to what came before?
Because photographs hold the moment.
But not the meaning.
Over time, our memories shift and soften.
What once felt vivid becomes distant —
like sunlight on water, beautiful but impossible to grasp.
And then photos get tucked away —
drawers, boxes, albums nobody quite knows the stories behind.
We inherit images, but not the why.
And that’s where a Very Important Note matters.
A sentence.
A paragraph.
A small piece of context.
“This was the summer we bought ice creams every day and didn’t care.”
“We had just got good news.”
“She used to hum while she read. I miss that.”
“This was the day we realised we’d always be in each other’s lives.”
Just enough to anchor the memory.
To hold onto the soul of it.
So that future generations don’t just see the faces —
they feel the moment.
And now, with technology the way it is, those faded, grainy, nearly-lost photos can be brought back.
The colour, the light, the life — restored.
But restoration is only half the gift.
The other half is the story.
So if you have a photo like that —
one that means something, even if you’re not sure why…
Take a moment.
Write one note.
Just enough for someone down the line to say,
“Oh. I see. I understand.”
Because the picture is what we inherit.
But the story —
the story is what we pass on.
Soon, we’ll be sharing a simple way to write the story behind your photographs — a little note that keeps the memory safe. Because the picture is what we keep, but the story is what we pass on.
