A few years ago, I gave my grandmother a tomato sandwich for her birthday. Not just any tomato sandwich—a summer mater sandwich. Fresh garden tomatoes, bread, mayo, and a little salt and pepper shaker wrapped up as a gift. At the time, she was living in a nursing home and had been talking about how much she missed them. If you’ve ever had a summer tomato picked fresh from the garden, you know there’s just no substitute.
When she opened that gift, we laughed so hard. The kind of laugh that sneaks up on you and leaves your cheeks hurting. Someone snapped this photograph that day.
I have hundreds of photographs of my grandmother, heck, maybe thousands. But that one? That one takes me right back. It takes me back because I can remember exactly how it felt to be there; I can hear the laughter, feel the hug, and remember her asking when she could cut into it?
After 15 years of photographing families, I’ve learned something important. The photographs that matter most are rarely the ones we expect. Of course, I love the classic family portrait. The one everyone frames and hangs above the fireplace. Those photographs absolutely matter. But over the years I’ve realized that photographs have a way of growing in value. I’ve walked into homes years later and found the newborn photographs I took still hanging on the walls. I’ve received texts from parents showing me that one of my images was used in a school project. I’ve had families call and ask if I could help prepare a photograph for a memorial service. And more times than I can count, someone has looked at me and said, “I’m so glad we took those photos.”
Photographs represent a season of life, our relationships, a person, a memory, and the best of all, a feeling.
When I photograph a family, I never really know which image will become the important one. Sometimes it’s the smiling-at-the-camera portrait. Sometimes it’s the way a toddler wraps their arms around Mom’s neck. Sometimes it’s Dad working his butt off to get those kids to smile. Sometimes it’s the in-between moment when everyone thinks I’m not taking pictures. The truth is, we rarely know which moments will become the ones we treasure most. We only know that if we don’t capture them, they can’t.
As schools let out and summer officially begins, I’ve been thinking a lot about that. These long days. The beach trips. The ice cream runs. The backyard evenings. The ordinary moments that don’t feel extraordinary at all right now. One day, they will. One day you’ll look back and realize these were the good old days. And maybe that’s why I believe so strongly in family photographs. But photographs have a way of taking us back. Back to the people we love. Back to the seasons we miss. Back to moments that are impossible to fully explain but instantly recognizable when we see them again.
They take us to a special place in the heart that no one can quite articulate, but everyone can feel. That’s the magic of a photograph. And that’s why, after all these years, I still believe they’re one of the most important things we can leave behind.
Because one day, this photo will mean everything.
xo, Tiff
P.S. If you’ve been thinking about updating your family photos this summer, I’d love to help you preserve this season before it becomes a memory. Summer sessions are available at Core Creek Park, Washington Crossing, the Jersey Shore, and my Yardley studio.
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