I started to write this post back in July, and then put it back in my drafts because I felt uncomfortable finishing it. After losing my Grandad last month, though, I feel pulled to finish it. To tell the big secret that everyone knows and nobody wants to say.

I went to a funeral last week for a friend’s brother. He was younger than me, by several years, and his death was unexpected and tragic.

I feel like all death is unexpected and tragic, even when it’s expected, and even when the person lived a long time. Even if a person is sick, we still have a hard time with the reality that one day they just won’t be here anymore.

This is the real “why” of photographs that we never want to talk about. The real reason why photography is so important. Because whether it’s us or someone else we love, we need something to defeat death, to remind us of a person once they’re no longer here.

This is the big “secret” that isn’t really a secret, but that no one wants to talk about regarding photographs. Yes, we want to capture the little daily moments because our kids are growing up faster than we can believe. And we always think we’ll have more of those moments, until we inevitably don’t. What’s really hard to fathom is that one day, the people we care about won’t be there anymore. We’ll cling desperately to the memory of that person in our head, but the brain is a funny thing, and memories can fade and lose their realness through time.

I heard a theory earlier this year, that we truly only remember something once. Each time after that, we’re remembering the memory of the last time we remembered it (I know, mind boggling). The OG memories get degraded by where we were and what we were doing the last time we remembered that memory (which is why so many of my memories are triggered by doing the dishes, I think). Memories get dusty, metaphorically speaking. Like static-filled recordings from the record-player days, you can’t quite remember the memory perfectly every time.

Inevitably when we lose someone we love, particularly when we lose them suddenly (and it’s always sudden, even if it’s gradual), we are thankful for the photos we have of them. To let our eyes rest on their smile, their eyes, the things that made them THEM, and let our brain stop the panicked feeling of losing the memory of them, which is like losing them all over again.

Photographs don’t capture a person’s scent, their laugh, their ideas and brilliant thoughts. They don’t capture the deep conversations and the way they make you feel. But they can help you remember all of those things just a little bit better, and bring some clarity to the memories as they fade.

The “secret” of photographs, the part that nobody wants to say but that is so important, is that they keep us connected with those who aren’t with us anymore.

And conversely, they keep our loved ones connected to us after we’re gone. Get in the photos, my dear. Today and every day.

See also: pictures of you aren’t for you, and will you miss this when it’s gone?