Today, I photographed a birth. I saw a human being breathe air for the first time. It was the first portrait session that has ever made me cry to the point that I had trouble focusing. And it was a huge honor.

Today I also read the deeply moving tribute that my cousin Leah wrote about her Grandmother (my great Aunt Isabel) who has recently passed. Unfortunately, I never had the chance to get to know her. But it made me think about my own Grandmother's passing. How one day she was there. The next day, she was not. She had overcome countless obstacles in her long life. She had been strong, unwavering, determined. Way ahead of her time, she had even been The Lieutenant Commander. Then one day she was fragile, and flew away.

Today I'm feeling the circle of things. Maybe I'm also feeling melancholy and sentimental. I spent the evening going through old photographs, in the big bin. We all have them, don't we? The big bin? The one that sits unassumingly in your attic or basement. Mostly ignored, and taken for granted, it stores all your treasure memories. Summer camp. That boy. That note. That time. The way she laughed. The big bin stores the tangible evidence of your minutes. Just in case you forget. Because in the end, it's just not about the shutterspeed, or photoshop, or those cool new actions you just bought. In the end, all that matters is the Remembering.

Want to share your favorites? The ones that help you remember?