My dad turned 86 last week. Quite an innings – and twice as long at the crease as anyone expected.

Forty years ago, he was given only months to live. Surgeons had found an insidious growth snaking the length of his spine. I’d just turned 17, and our Christmas was clouded by heartbreak and dread, thinking it would be our last together.

But what was first thought to be cancer turned out to be a rare fibrosis, that he’s lived with ever since.  

My father, Ray, has been a great sportsman, a farmer and a real estate agent, with countless stories to tell: Growing up in war time, going to the 1956 Melbourne Olympics on a school trip, playing rugby for his province, and bravely navigating his health battles with my mum, his rock, by his side. He’s been a wonderful dad, granddad and now great granddad, who loves nothing more than quietly spending time with his family.

When my son was at radio school and had to make a podcast, he sat down with his grandfather, whose memory was still as sharp as a tack, and recorded him telling his life story. He called it 18 to 81 – their respective ages at the time.

Now our family has that recording to pass down through the generations. It’s more valuable than any physical asset we own. 

And it’s why I believe so deeply in the value of a Reflections experience – because I’ve seen what a gift it truly is. 

We filmed one of my dad’s best mates for Reflections last year. His story wasn’t unlike my father’s – they played a lot of sport together, both worked on the land, but Graham had gone on to become a top sports administrator. 

He wanted to gift his video to his five granddaughters, who otherwise might never have known the full story behind the family farm that had been passed down through generations.

That’s the power of Reflections – preserving the voices, values and legacies that shape us, before they’re lost to time.

It’s easy to think we’ll always have time to ask the questions that matter, but life moves quickly, and memories fade. That’s why it means so much to have captured my dad’s voice, his chuckle, and his wonderful yarns while we still could. Listening to that recording now, we hear not just the events of his life, but his character: his humour, grit, and quiet resolve.

What’s remarkable is how much those stories connect us – not just to him, but to each other. Our kids have learned things they never knew about their grandfather’s early days, the values he holds dear, and the world he grew up in. It also gives them a stronger sense of where they come from. 

I know he takes pride in not only sharing his achievements but also keeping alive unforgettable family memories – like the time we drove around the South Island in a motorhome cavalcade, and he only revealed at the end of the trip that he could only see out one eye…  

And it’s not just about legacy – it’s also about gratitude. In revisiting his story, we’re reminded of how lucky we are to have had all these extra decades with him. Years filled with ordinary, beautiful moments we’ll always treasure. And now, we’ve ensured that future generations will treasure them too.

Next, it’s my mother’s turn to document her story. She’s lived in the same country town all her life, and witnessed almost nine decades of extraordinary change across every part of the world she knows. She was also great at sport and had a successful career. And the sacrifices she’s made for our family have been quiet, profound and life-shaping.      

She’s always insisted she doesn’t have a story to tell. But through the stories I’ve helped tell with Reflections, she’s come to see that she does – and that it matters.  

That’s what Reflections makes possible, turning everyday memories into extraordinary legacies – ensuring they never fade away. 

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