Sometimes This Hobby Makes Me Sad

Today I was leafing through some old 4x6" photos that haven't yet made it into albums (gasp!), but are rather sitting inside an old Cropper Hopper photo holder. I was looking for some baby photos of my youngest son, James. As I poured over the stacks of photos, I found photo after photo that made me sad.

It's sad that kids grow up. How dare they? After all that hard work we put into bringing them to earth, raising them, changing them, feeding them, and so on, how dare they grow up and not need us?

When did Kate lose that baby fat in her cheeks?
When did James' hair turn a dark golden color?

Those older photos are a constant reminder that my kids were once small, and they're not now!

Photos of Joey always make me sad. Photos with our arms around him. Why can't I still feel that closeness of him near? Photos of him looking healthy make me wonder why did he have to have so many physical problems?

There are photos of places we used to live and adventures we used to have, that we may never have again.

As much as this hobby helps me document nearly everything we've ever done in our lives, it doesn't do one thing. As much as I'd like to think that I can soak up every feeling and emotion that occurs in the middle of a memory, you just can't. I still struggle to remember the texture of Joey's hair as I run my fingers through it. James can't remember what Joey even sounds like any more. I can't remember exactly how it feels to hold James in my lap. That closeness. That physical touch. You can't document that. You can try, but it's not quite the same thing.

Thank goodness I have a million photos and layout after layout with journaling about those memories because I don't want to forget any more than I already have.

And all that just makes me sad. What items do you wish you could (or have) captured in your memory keeping? And how did you approach challenges like these?