I know it seems like the only thing you ever hear from me is about documenting Year in the Life sessions. And as much as I try not to talk about them constantly, it’s difficult to avoid. The truth is, my heart and soul are so wrapped up in these families that making sure they have solid documentation of their lives feels like my life’s purpose. Maybe that sounds ridiculous. But when I step into someone’s home, when I see the love, the chaos, the small, unspoken moments that make up their days, I know that this is important.
The task of putting my thoughts into words when it comes to something I am passionate about feels monumental. How do I explain the way it feels to witness a mother wipe away her child’s tears and see, in her face, a love so deep it almost hurts? Or the way a grandparent leans into a hug, knowing these moments together are precious and fleeting?
I once had a mother tell me that after receiving her Year in the Life photos, she sat down and cried—not out of sadness, but out of gratitude. “I didn’t realize how beautiful our life is,” she said. That is why I do this. Because in the middle of the everyday—between work, school drop-offs, laundry, and dishes—it’s easy to forget how much love and connection exist in the seemingly mundane.
And that’s the thing: life is happening right now. Not in the milestones or the big events, but in the quiet moments we rarely think to capture. My job is to hold up a mirror and say, Look. This is your life. And it is beautiful.
