I came across this photo a few days ago.
Every time I look at it, I smile.
Three generations.
My father.
My brother and I.
Our children.
All of us lying on the same bed.
If someone had asked me that day to describe it...
I probably would`ve said,
"Nothing much... just another day with the family."
But today...
When I look at this photo...
I realise it wasn`t "just another day."
It quietly became one of the most beautiful memories of my life.
That made me think.
Maybe that`s how memories work.
They don`t announce themselves.
They don`t tell us,
"Pay attention... you`ll remember this forever."
They arrive quietly.
Disguised as ordinary days.
...
Working in healthcare changed the way I see life.
I spent years listening to people in some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives.
Do you know what I`ve never heard anyone say?
"I wish I had spent more time at work."
"I wish I had bought a bigger TV."
"I wish I had upgraded my phone one more time."
What I heard instead were stories about people.
Family.
Conversations.
Moments.
Regrets.
Love.
It made me realise something.
We spend so much of our lives trying to build a better future...
that sometimes...
we forget to be fully present in the life we`re already living.
I catch myself doing it too.
Sometimes my children are laughing...
and my first instinct is to take out my phone.
Not because I want to post it.
Because I don`t want to lose the moment.
But lately I`ve been asking myself a different question.
What if the best way to keep a memory... isn`t to record it?
What if it`s simply to be fully present while it`s happening?
Maybe that`s why my favourite childhood memories don`t exist in Google Photos.
They`re not stored on a hard drive.
They`re stored somewhere much deeper.
...
I don`t know what my children will remember about me twenty years from now.
It probably won`t be the gifts I bought them.
Or the hours I spent working.
Or the house we lived in.
I hope...
they remember something much simpler.
That when I was with them...
I was really with them.
So before I finish...
Can I leave you with one question?
If your children were writing a story about you twenty years from now...
What moments would they write about?
Because I`ve started believing something very deeply.
The quality of our memories depends on the quality of our presence.
See you next week,
Syam