Life Doesn’t Wait — Book That Photo Session

Time is like sand in a sieve. It slips through your fingers while you’re staring at your phone, putting things off, waiting for the “right time.” But there is no “right time.” Only now.

I just lost my mom. She was 78, full of life, stories, laughter, and love. In the weeks since, grief feels like a weight I carry daily. And you know what haunts me most? Not the moments she wasn’t there — it’s the moments we didn’t preserve. The silences we never photographed. The hugs we didn’t capture. The laughter across a dinner table that we never froze in pixels. The single photo I do have — me hugging her — is a lifeboat in the storm. That hug lives. Her face lives. Her eyes, her warmth, her presence — all immortal in that frame.

That one image stares back at me. Reminds me she existed. Reminds me I was loved. Reminds me of what I lost — but also what remains.

If you think, “I’ll do a photo session someday, when we’re all in a better place” — I want to slap that thought. Because someday might be too late.

Why Photos Are Not Vanity — They Are Salvation

Photographs are not just “nice-to-haves.” They are emotional oxygen. Science backs this: looking at images of loved ones activates the brain’s reward centers, releases oxytocin (the “bonding” hormone), lowers stress hormones like cortisol, and can literally make you feel calmer, safer, happier. (Researchers have found that even brief exposure to a photo of someone you love reduces your physiological stress response.)

Translation: pictures soothe your soul. They are mental wellness tools.

So when you see your family’s faces — your partner, your kids, your parents — in a frame, your heart’s chemistry changes. You breathe deeper. You soften. You remember. And shocker: life feels a little more bearable.

That hug with my mom? It’s my own prescription for grief, pulled from a frame, cured with love.

Waiting Is the Enemy

I get it. You tell yourself:

“We’re too busy.”

“We’ll do it next year.”

“We’re not photogenic.”

“I’ll wait until I lose 5 more pounds / we could fix the yard first / it’ll be better in the summer / the baby is a toddler now, so …”

Every excuse is valid — until death or time decides your excuses. Time doesn’t give refunds.

Your parents age. Your kids grow. Your partner’s laugh lines deepen. Your friends drift. Whatever “now” you’re resisting is your only guarantee. You can’t rewind, you can’t pause. You can’t get back those years.

I know this because I’m feeling the void of absence. I’m staring at that one photo of me hugging her and thinking, “why didn’t I do more? why didn’t I get more?” Let that guilt push you — not to panic — but to act.

Finding the Right Photographer Matters

Now, I’m a photographer — but this isn’t me pitching you. This is me telling you to find your person. The one who captures your truth. The one who sees you — your chaos, your love, your connection — and documents it for what it is.

For me, it’s always been about creating and capturing connection. The glances, the hand squeezes, the unspoken stuff that says this is us. But it doesn’t have to be me. Not everyone needs my lens, my energy, my approach. What matters is finding someone who photographs your story in a way that feels like you.

Because when it’s done right, a photograph isn’t about how you look — it’s about how it feels.

What You’ll Regret Less

Delaying.

Waiting for perfection.

Wishing you had more.

Do it. Book a session with someone who makes you feel seen. Do it for your kids, your parents, your friends, your partner. Because those images will be everything when someone’s gone. They become your inheritance, your strength, your reminder that you existed, that you connected.

Those photos you’re postponing now? They might be the only ones left. Don’t leave your legacy blank.

Life Screams “Now.” Answer.

If you take anything from this, take this: life moves too damn fast. The dishes can wait. The extra five pounds don’t matter. The “someday” never shows up.

Get in the picture. With your people. Messy hair, real smiles, awkward laughs — all of it. Because one day, that might be the image that saves you.

That’s the power of a photo. Not the pose — the proof.