I grew up in Rochester NY, the home of the Eastman Kodak Company. Almost everyone I knew had a family member who worked there. In fact, when I was a teenager, Kodak actually commanded 90% of film sales and 85% of camera sales in the United States. But camera sales were not the only influence that Kodak had. The phrase “a Kodak moment” came to stand, in our lexicon, for a special moment worth capturing with the click of a camera—a Kodak camera, of course. We all used the phrase “this is such a Kodak moment” frequently to describe a personal event that you never wanted to forget.

And so it isn’t surprising that I have passed down the phrase —“this is a Kodak moment”— to the next two generations. While for generations, a Kodak moment has signified something that was worth savoring and saving, in our family it was also an action: it was literally the act of pretending to take the picture. You see, I have taught all of the kids and grandkids to put their hands up in front of their face, making a rectangle with their fingers, and with their forefinger they would “click” to take the picture which I told them would magically stay in their memories forever. When a moment seemed really special or meaningful to everyone I would always say, “OK guys, this is a Kodak moment, take out your ‘cameras.’” We would each “click” and know that we would always remember the specialness of that moment that we were feeling.

This was a good enough system, especially when the grandkids were tiny and didn’t question as much. But I was in for quite a surprise over this past Thanksgiving holiday weekend when I used the term. We were playing bingo, one of our favorite games, and I told the kids to “take out their pretend cameras and snap a picture.” At this point, one of the older grandkids (only nine!) turned to me and said, “but Ba, what if you get dementia and don’t remember? Shouldn’t we actually take a picture for you?” YIPES! I had never thought about that.

And so I turned to my daughter (who had done so much work to prepare for the holiday and was still busy cooking with quite a few young “helpers”) and said, “I need you to take REAL pictures so we will always have them. Hurry up!” Suddenly I felt panicked that we had captured the feelings but not the actual image. Trust me, from the look on my daughter’s face, that was NOT a Kodak moment for her! But she humored me, and snapped a few pictures anyway, and I have a feeling I will always smile while looking at them (and yes, in large part because of my costume!).

I thought about this experience, and what lessons there were to be learned from it. I thought about how there can be value in both — in using your imagination in the moment to have a good time, and in capturing images for our future selves, whoever they are and whatever their memory needs become. As you might imagine, I thought about the importance of memory books and how they can help families impacted by dementia. As I explained to the kids, if someday they said to me, “do you remember how you used to dress up as pilgrim on Thanksgiving?” and I didn’t remember, I might feel just terrible. But, I explained, if instead they put a picture in my memory book with a short caption, and I could see what they were talking about, I might feel differently and be able to connect in a deeper way with my grandkids and with the memories. As you can see, I even picked one for my future memory book.

During the holiday season, when you are spending time with someone impacted by dementia, you might consider making a memory book. You will find all of the information you need here on our website. And since everyone has a different learning style, you will find not only written instructions but a short video tutorial as well. (By the way, thanks to the two-minute animated video, I am now also the “cool” grandma!)

We hope that the information provided on making a memory book helps you, as a care partner, to not only do something, but do the “right thing” as your loved one’s abilities change. Our goal is to help you create a traditional Kodak moment – one that is to be savored and saved.