I recently rediscovered how important my photograph is. When I had to have surgery on my right shoulder, I couldn’t hold a camera. Because I put my camera down, my brain decided I didn’t really need to capture the beauty around me. Then, my last sibling passed away and the family called me for photos of his life. Searching through the mounds of albums reminded me of my passion. Warm memories flooded my eyes with tears. The importance of those captured moments, not only for my eyes, but for our family and friends, was all I needed to bring me out of my slump. It’s my passion, it’s my purpose, and it’s my love.