When my mom died of cancer in 2002, I realized that I had very few pictures of her.  I have no idea when the last formal portrait was taken (maybe in 1982) and there were hardly any snapshots to be found.  Despite the fact that I seemed to always have a camera in my hand from the age of 17 on, I rarely took pictures of the people around me.

Same can pretty much be said of my in-laws, who, have also both past away.  My children will have almost no memory of them other than the stories other people tell them, or the rare picture that is found in a drawer someplace.  I have a few pictures of my maternal grandmother, and I do have a portrait taken to honor my maternal grandparents on their 40th wedding anniversary.  I  hold these as being near and dear to my heart.  I actually got married on their wedding date, and wore the necklace my grandma was wearing in that picture on the day I became a bride.

Why do I tell you these stories?  I'm a visual person, and as I get older, I wish that there were more pictures of my family for me to hold and enjoy.  Recently, I attended my husband's family reunion in Buffalo Center, Iowa, a town so small, that you would miss it if you blinked.  I brought my camera.  I took posed shots and more than a few casual shots.  I want everyone there (and those family members who couldn't be there with us) to have a testament to the love this family feels for each other.

Take time to document your life, both formally and informally.  Put pictures on the wall (so that the "little one" can point at her cousin's picture and yell, "Sean!"); take snapshots to cover your fridge; document the memories of your time.  Pictures are proof that not only were you alive, but that you lived!

I wasn't born a Winter, but I feel like I've always been one.  I have the pictures to prove it!