The end of the year is always a nostalgic time. It’s a time when we take stock of our big moments, our small moments, reflect on the lessons of the year, and dream about the possibilities of the next.
There is a little space on this blog carved out for such end-of-year reflections. I’ve written about the big lessons of 2020 and the career lessons of 2021.
And if you really want a throwback, I shared a deeply personal self-discovery post about how pivotal 2014 was for me (it’s got it all: heartbreak, travel, switching careers, rediscovering my hobbies and meeting my now-husband).
This year, I’m sharing my end-of-year wrap up differently.
For Christmas this year, we gifted our families photo albums. The pages in those albums contained the good times we all spent together this year, after two years of putting life on pause.
A year in review of birthdays, anniversaries, life milestones or just simple family gatherings. 2022 was a year of making up for lost time.
Since the pandemic, I promised myself never to take moments like these for granted again. My photographic captures are my way of preserving them.
This gift inspired me to create a 2022 album for my husband and I.
It was an interesting exercise because of how many photos I have on my phone. Putting together an album forces you to hand pick only the very best shots and recreate a memory with just a handful of pictures.
What a funny concept that we snap a photo, and then put it right back in our pocket. I wanted those photos to live somewhere.
With a photo album, there is no endless scrolling. There’s intentional storytelling.
As I organized and laid out the photos in chronological order, I sat back and scanned the photos on the coffee table. An entire year, a tiny segment of our life, laid out right there on a coffee table.
Sunsets, al fresco dining, ice cream by the lake, cottage getaways, the slowness of Sunday mornings.
Our little life lived in all four seasons. Memories made through snow, budding cherry blossoms, sunflowers in full bloom and amber foliage crunching at our feet until the first frost returns.
A wave of gratitude enveloped my heart. How lucky we got to see it all.
In a world where we have hundreds, if not thousands, of photos tucked in our pocket on a little rectangular device, there is something quite powerful about seeing snippets of your life in a tactile way.
All these moments can be relived tangibly between our hands, and the hands that come after us. Touched, felt and cherished through generations.
I left some of the pages in the albums blank, for new memories to add.
I encourage you to print some of your favourite snapshots and house them in a little album you can revisit anytime.
Wishing you all a beautiful, hopeful and healing 2023 ✨
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