I began the process of cleaning out my attic in the early months of 2018. The purpose was to sort through the piles of miscellaneous items that had been sitting around for decades and to dispose of anything unneeded. But the real purpose was to locate and sort through Christine’s belongings and preserve them. After randomly searching through the contents of cardboard boxes of various sizes, a bundle of white envelopes came up. Inside was an assortment of 110-format films from a Kodak Pocket Instamatic camera that I had gifted Christine in 1978, sorted per film. It was not something I had dared to look for, and I could not suppress the surge of surprise and joy in me, for it was a find whose existence had actually disappeared from my memory. I scanned all of the negative film and printed the pictures out. The images unfolding before my eyes were breathtakingly vivid, bringing back to life days from the past that should have been lost. The “life story” that had been lying dormant on brown celluloid of only 13 by 17 millimeters stood before my eyes in the size of reality.