Over 150,000 miles of moments happened in this car. It’s funny the things we get attached to, like a car your kids decided to name Moby (because he is blue and shaped like a whale). I (we) lived out of that car.

My daughter had more dinners that I can recall, on the way to gymnastics, in that car.

My son (and friends) quickly grew too tall to jump in the third row.

First days of school drop offs, movies, high school football games and first dates (I can still see her first boyfriend in my rearview mirror; what can I say he is my fave), and late night pick ups after parties.

Listening to the awful Marilyn Manson music she played every morning during 8th grade. Or maybe the coffee song he played on repeat was worse. And a gazillion rounds of eye-spy using only what was in the car.

Oh and the arguments, so many arguments while trying to teach them how to drive. 

His excitement for every road trip (when he was little) equal to her dreading the hours in the car. 

All of it and more happened in that car. I drove it for 10 years, most of them as a young mom to one teenage girl and a little boy.  Yeah, it looked like crap today, inside and out, and it made some weird sounds, none of which came from the radio because that no longer worked. But today, it’s off to an organization that will sell it and donate the proceeds to a children’s charity. That makes me happy. 

So I stood there in my garage and thought about all these memories and felt a bit silly at feeling emotional about bidding farewell to this car so I did the most logical thing, I made a picture. Something tangible to hold all those memories and I think Moby flashed me a smile. 

(Impossible Film Polaroid 600)

I am a ghost.


30,000 + photos circa 1994 to present day.  How many am I in? Approximately 300 and that includes many do overs. Last year there were 30 photos of 3,900 tagged Mom/Jackie, this year 15 of over 1,000. I am present at all their events yet there is very little proof other than "mom must have taken the photo".  

Every year around this time an article pops up reminding us moms why we should, needmust get in the frame.  The Mom Who Wasn't There: The Ghost in our Family Photos  by Kaz Weida, is a compelling reminder that I am missing from many photographs and those that I am in really do not reveal who I am.  Instead, there are many "only from here up", "let me hide behind you" - where are the ones where I am hugging my kids?  Oh yeah I didn't get any because my arms would look even bigger. How stupid does that sound?

Two years ago I joined a photography project where we gather monthly to share a little piece of who we are in images and words. The Story of Me Project is celebrating its two year anniversary this month.  We can be found here and on Instagram.

I challenge you, along with myself, stop being a ghost.  Share your images with us by using #thestoryofmeproject and help us fill up Instagram and family albums with more images of us.

Happy Mother's Day! 

(photo by my son)

ode to my canon 50D

You served me well for 6 1/2 long years.   Ever faithful no matter how many times I cursed your cropped view and noisy personality.  It was because of you I learned that it really wasn’t about you it was me.   You pushed me to learn, to step back and take it all in, to slow down, to find the best scenario with our limitations – we pushed each other to be better.

I have committed to what I believe in, “no camera in the world will make up for our shortcomings in creativity and in the areas that the human mind and heart resonate”[1] – but you are showing signs of needing a rest and the time has come for us to part ways. 

Thank you for these final images taken over Thanksgiving weekend, 2014

To see the entire gallery please go here

To see the entire gallery please go here

[1] duChemin, David. (2015 April 14). You Matter More