The Power of Embracing Life's Imperfect Moments image

Stories

The Power of Embracing Life's Imperfect Moments

1. januar 1970

In a world obsessed with perfection, where every image is meticulously staged, edited, and filtered, the true essence of a memory can sometimes be lost. Because often, the imperfect photos, make the happiest memories to reflect on, and play a big role in holding our loved ones close and keeping their memories alive.

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Written by By Sally Douglas and Imogen Carn

Co-founders of Good Mourning

In a world obsessed with perfection, where every image is meticulously staged, edited, and filtered, the true essence of a memory can sometimes be lost. We've all been there, striving for the ideal shot, making everyone wait until the lighting is proper or the background is flawless.

A few years ago, for us both, capturing a memory via photo meant preening, posing, getting the lighting right, and making sure everything was "perfect". Heaven forbid a coffee stain on a shirt, a double chin, or a slightly blurry image is captured. Because getting a photo just right means that they are the ones we’ll look back on forever, right?

Wrong.

“Often, the imperfect photos holds the happiest memories, and play a big role in holding our loved ones close and keeping their memories alive.”

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When our mums died months apart, we quickly learnt how important it is to capture every moment – perfect or not. Often, the imperfect photos – the ones we may be tempted to delete – make the happiest memories to reflect on, and play a big role in us holding our loved ones close and keeping their memories alive.

For me, Sal, my perspective on the perfect photo shifted significantly after my mum passed away. My lovely mum, Rose, lived on the opposite side of the world. Being so far away from her, I didn't have many recent photos of us together. So, the ones I did have became incredibly precious – flaws and all.


One of my favourite photos of my mum is her walking me down the aisle on her wedding day. It was taken by a guest, not the wedding photographer, and my mum is talking with her mouth open. Not posed, not perfect, and maybe not the most flattering. But looking at that photo transports me back to that moment, nervously walking down the steps at Sydney's Botanical Gardens hand in hand. Mum talking to me in a quiet voice, calming my nerves. Her high heels getting stuck in the wet grass, and walking in what felt like a snail's pace down the aisle. That photo vividly encapsulated that moment, and our special connection, and will forever remain my favourite photo of us.

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“I yearned for her guidance through this unfamiliar stage of life, and her absence left a profound void in my heart.”

I, Im, had a very similar realisation to Sal’s when my mum too passed away. Her death by suicide when my daughter was just nine months old was unexpected and plunged me into a living nightmare. I yearned for her guidance through this unfamiliar stage of life, and her absence left a profound void in my heart.

As a new mum, I needed my own mum to help guide me through this unknown stage of life, and her absence left a gaping hole. I was lost without her and looked to my photos of her for comfort and connection. The moments I captured of her holding my baby girl, her granddaughter, are the most precious to me. My absolute favourite picture is when my mom is holding Layla right after she was born. The joy in her face at the arrival of her first granddaughter shines through the photo and captures the incredible, happy and loving person she was. She's not looking at the camera, her hair is a bit wild – it's far from "a perfect photo". But it's a moment of uninterrupted joy, and it transports me back to the moment as if I am still in that hospital room with her.

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Neither of these examples we've shared with you is in any way polished, but to us both, they are perfect. Whereas once we might've deleted these shots for a "better one,” we now realise there is beauty in imperfection. Because the aesthetics don't matter – what matters is the precious memory internalised in the photo.

Don’t wait for a significant milestone, event, perfect moment, or lighting to capture a memory. Actively capture the random, less-than-perfect moments because we know that as much as the big moments in life, the little ones are to be just as cherished. So go on – take the impromptu selfie, capture that random Tuesday morning coffee date, and don't worry about nailing it.

“I know that when my daughter is all grown up, she won’t care if my hair is out of place, or my outfit isn’t perfect. She’ll care about the quality of time we spent together, the moments we captured, and the special bond we shared.”

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For me, Im, I make a habit of capturing random, everyday moments with my daughter. Even on the days when I feel full of grief, don’t look my best, or have stains on my clothes – I take the photo. Because I know it’s so important to have these imperfect, everyday memories for us both to look back on, as I wish I had more of them of me and my mum. And I know that when my daughter is all grown up, she won’t care if my hair is out of place, or my outfit isn’t perfect. She’ll care about the time we spent together and the special bond we shared.

If there’s one thing that grief has taught us, it is that your camera roll or photo album may not be full of perfect shots, but they remind us that the true beauty of memory lies not in its perfection but in its authenticity. In the imperfections, we find the real moments: the laughter, the love, the connection.