My Head In the Clouds

“One of the most precious gifts my dad left us is the collection of home videos he lovingly recorded, simple moments now transformed into timeless memories.”

A rarity in the 90’s, he managed to capture not just the innocence of our early years, but unwittingly the youth of my parents. An immortal gift for us millennials, now taken for granted in an age of endless selfies and curated feeds.

He documented it all, my brother and me getting ready for school, bickering endlessly (at times even encouraging us to fight for the camera when mom wasn’t looking),ma cooking in the kitchen, grandparents lounging with us; the random everyday moments that now feel like magic. With such love and care, he preserved the essence and magic of our childhood.

He left us too soon, but through those tapes, he gifted us something immeasurable; his presence. Even in absence, he left behind frames of love and glimpses of joy.

In today’s world, cameras often feel like tools of self-obsession amplified by social media into endless reels. But for me, the camera has found its truest purpose again. When I look at those photos and videos, I see him. I see not just moments, but his spirit.

Those recordings are even more precious because, as the years went on, something in him began to fade. In his late sixties, he grew quieter, slowly letting go of little pieces of his world. And as he began to retreat, a quiet worry settled over us & without meaning to, we began to forget the spirited, lively version of him that once lit up our lives.

But now, after he’s gone the videos and old photographs bring him roaring back to life. I remember him not as he was at the end, but as he truly was; full of life, wisdom, strength, and warmth. Remembering him reminds me of the roots I carry-steady, silent and always there.