This is me and my Grandpa Jack, who died when I was four years old. Because he lived in New York and I lived in Los Angeles, I only met him a handful of times. I’m so grateful for this photo and a handful of others — but what I would only give to have him on camera, telling his story. I would have loved to hear him speak of the milestone events of his life, as well as his childhood, his first kiss, how he met my grandma, why he loved violin and gardening, and his obsession with pepperoncinis (which I share).

It’s wonderful to be left with a handful of stories about him, but I’d be lying if I said that it felt like enough. I started Moving Memories to help families preserve and care for these treasured stories and their relatives who lived them — to bring them to life for the living family around them and, most importantly, to ensure that they are shared and treasured for generations to come.