April, 2000 -

My mom is a collector of memories.

For years, she spent a lot of money and time putting together photo albums with side notes: where we went, what we ate, how we felt.

"1985-90", "90-93"

They are images of the highlights of our lives: that wedding, that party, that birthday, that day at the beach.

"April, 2000 - ", says the label of the very last photo album.

As you turn pages on that album, you start noticing that whereas one from the 90s would have 3-4 photos per event, this one had 10-20, getting worse and worse towards the end.

No more side notes, no more anecdotes.

And one day, suddenly, no more photos.

There wasn't room for all of them.

Digital happened.