My mom divorced my dad when I was too little to remember. All I had of him were, what seemed like, piles of black and white photos he had taken of me. I remember thinking "He must've loved me." - the photos were my proof. I also remember being in awe that when I looked at those photos I was seeing exactly what he was seeing at the very moment he clicked the shutter.

I knew that if someday I had kids of my own I wanted them to feel those same feelings.