Documenting the Journey
Over the past few weeks, I’ve had the tender opportunity to clean out my parents’ home as we prepare to sell it. As I’ve gone through their things, I’ve discovered something beautiful—my mom documented everything.
She carefully saved notes about each item: who wore the dress, what year it was sewn, whether it was passed down to someone else. Some of these items date back to the early 1900s—first shoes, blessing dresses, baby blankets, Christmas mementos. Because they were documented, they now hold so much more meaning.
The stories were saved, even though my mom isn’t here to tell them.
This week, my sister Nancy reminded me of this same principle. In February, her husband, Chris, was in a serious biking accident that left him temporarily paralyzed from the neck down. She’s been documenting his journey for the past five months, and this morning she shared a video showing how far he’s come—from needing multiple people to help him stand, to now walking carefully on his own.
Without those first videos and journal entries, it would be easy to forget how hopeless things once looked. It’s a reminder that documenting your story keeps perspective alive. It shows us how far we’ve come and gives us hope for what’s still possible.
I’ve also been thinking about my newlywed son, just starting his own love story—figuring out daily routines, finances, what to eat, when to eat, how to build a life together. In the beginning, it’s messy and awkward sometimes. But after 30 years of marriage, I now know how Rory responds under pressure, how we work through financial stress, how we lean on each other.
We’ve faced challenges, and we’ve also celebrated beautiful victories—raising kids, becoming in-laws, and stepping into new seasons together.
Every part of your love story matters. Every season is worth remembering.
Please, document your love story.
In pictures.
In journals.
In audio recordings.
Your story will become a treasure—for you, for your children, and maybe even for your grandchildren. They will gain strength, connection, and confidence hearing where they came from and how love was built—not on perfection, but on perseverance.
Your challenge this week:
Take one photo that tells part of your love story.
Write one paragraph about a challenge you’ve faced together.
Record a short voice memo of a favorite memory.
Document the sweet moments, but don’t leave out the hard ones. The growth happens there. And someday, someone else will need to know that joy comes through those hard things—not just the picture-perfect moments.
You’re doing great. I have so much confidence in you and your love story.
