Pause. Rewind. Play.
During lockdown, I carried a post-it and pen everywhere, jotting down moments I wished I had a camera for. Before, I often longed for my camera while out—but I wanted to see if the same held true while stuck at home with just one other person.
With my then-partner’s help, I recreated some of these fleeting moments—small joys, moments of calm, or simple needs. Over time, I realized these weren’t inherently memorable; they became so because I took the time to notice them. Each photo became a reminder of the beauty in the everyday.
But the project took an unexpected turn. Both of my parents’ health had declined rapidly, and within six weeks, I had to pack up my life and dreams in the U.S. As I prepared to leave, those small, recorded moments turned into cherished memories of us. When we recreated them one last time, only one thought echoed in my mind: “I’m sorry.”
