The iPhone does a great job of bubbling up photos you’ve forgotten about through its Memories feature. If you keep swiping left on your phone, you’ll find a small set of widgets, and one is a photos widget that creates tiny slideshows from the same date (three years ago, today!) or around a theme (people with animals).

One night, I was looking at it when I realized, as I moved my phone, that it felt like I was in the image. It was a picture I had taken days earlier of a fountain next to the Tower Bridge, and it looks like you could walk behind the fountain. It was so strange. The picture looked three-dimensional.

I swiped again, and a new picture appeared with the same effect. It was the Wolvog cuddling Beorn, and I teared up because it looked like I could touch both of them. The Wolvog looked three-dimensional, and Beorn looked so tangible that he could have been alive.

I had to Google to figure out what happened because the Beorn picture was clearly old. It’s something called Spatial Scene, and you can turn it on for any photo on your phone. I was even able to use it on a picture of my grandparents from 45 years ago that I keep on my phone. You just tap the hexagon icon in the top right corner, and it temporarily changes the image into a Spatial Scene. When you’re ready to go back to normal, you click it again.

It is strangely emotional, especially looking at pictures of people or pets who are gone and feeling you could touch them again.

Have you played with the feature?

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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I’ve been using a master packing list for years. It has everything I usually pack for every type of trip. I hit duplicate, delete the things I don’t need for the upcoming trip, and then cross off items as they go into the suitcase.

The app I had been using changed to a subscription model years ago, but as long as I didn’t update the app, I was able to keep using it for free. Unfortunately, when I changed phones, it installed an updated version on the new device. This is when I learned that I could recreate the list in the Notes app, change the whole thing to a checklist (look in the bottom left order for the checklist symbol), and then keep duplicating it by pressing down my finger in the table of contents screen (that shows all of your notes) until the duplicate menu popped up. Free option that works even better than the old option because I can check a box and easily see which items are still unchecked.

I may still forget to pack pants, but it won’t be the app’s fault.

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Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts connected to businesses or sponsored posts.

When I was a teenager, I traveled, and my parents only had a general sense of where I was in the world. They knew the country, for instance, and maybe even the city, but I rarely knew where I was staying before I left, unless I was staying with a friend or family. I rarely knew which city I would be in on which day. I bought a Let’s Go guide and chose a recommended hotel from the book when I reached a new place.

I had an international calling card. It was almost a dollar a minute, so I only called every two weeks, or maybe once in the middle of a three-week trip. I never knew when people would be home, so I took my chances when I called. I wanted to call late enough that people would be home, but early enough that I felt safe because the phones were outside, on the street. It didn’t feel safe to stand on a street corner at midnight and call in the dark just to get people at 7 pm at home.

I took photos, usually bringing four rolls that held 36 images each. A luxury! I couldn’t wait to send off the film when I got home and see the pictures a week or two later.

The twins are still away on their grand adventures. They’ve met up and are traveling together this weekend. We know this because we’ve been able to speak to them almost every night. They call or FaceTime to tell us about their day. They check in with text messages during the day. Sometimes they sent pictures so we can see what they’re seeing in real time. We get credit card alerts, so we know which city they’re in via their purchases.

In many ways, it feels similar to when they’re away at college. It’s just the amount of distance that makes my stomach clench, but in actuality, we’ve been able to have the same sort of contact with them, which is 10x the contact my parents were able to have with me while in college because there was no texting, no mobile devices, no video calling, infrequent email, and expensive phone calls.

I feel silly talking about how much I miss them, but I miss them. I really really miss them. I feel so lucky that I don’t have to wait weeks to hear what they’ve been doing or see pictures. I can acknowledge that earlier generations had it harder. And I can still miss them. A lot.

My nibling’s camp allows letters — no phone calls or packages — which means we pull out the stationery every summer. I know I grew up with only letters — even phone calls were rare due to the cost — but it’s a weird sensation to write someone questions and know they will not be able to answer. Or tell them about something that won’t be important by the time they read it.

I also feel a compulsive need to confess all of my camp wrongdoings as I write them. Yes, I snuck out of my cabin at night. Yes, I made a phone call during the Harper’s Ferry trip even though it wasn’t permitted. Yes, I dumped tennis cans full of water over the top of the shower.

I am going to guess that my nibling is a better camper than I was.

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Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

And now the blogs…

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But first, second, helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. To read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “The Last Onesies” (Infertile Phoenix)

Okay, now my choices this week.

The Barreness has been taking care of her parents, and it’s turning her world upside down. She writes, “I made a promise to myself recently (in the last three weeks) that I would like to try and have a relationship with my parents and not spend my time fighting, bargaining and being run over.” She explains how this looks in practice, and I feel like it’s a good post for all to read and learn from. It’s a very heavy situation.

Lastly, Finding a Different Path deals with some picture books that came from a baby shower. It is time to give them to a child who can read them, but it’s still a heartbreaking post. She explains: “They brought to the forefront a reminder of an alternate life, a ghost life that never fleshed out. I felt it viscerally. Not because I want that life or am unhappy with my life now, but because of all the promise those books represented, and the heartbreak of a dream unrealized.” Go give her a hug.

The roundup to the Roundup: Writing letters. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between July 3 – July 10) and not the blog’s main URL. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week. Read the original open thread post here.

There was a part in Spalding Gray’s monologue Gray’s Anatomy, where he talks about the Bermuda Triangle of Health. The idea is that it’s the time “where the body begins to break down in alarming and humiliating ways.” In his case, a macula pucker.

The idea had always stayed with me, but I didn’t actually look back at the book to see the years he deemed the Bermuda Triangle of Health. It’s 50 – 53, if you’re curious. I saw him perform the monologue when he was 53 or 54, based on a quick peek at his birth year on his Wikipedia page. I was in college when I heard him perform the monologue, and he felt so old back then. It made complete sense that his body would be breaking down. But now that I’m here, it doesn’t feel old at all. Do college kids look at me and think that I’m impossibly old?

I thought about it this week because I’ve been dealing with sciatica pain. It’s getting better so I’m not going to see the doctor for now, but it has made me feel creaky and off for weeks. Once upon a time, 50 – 53 sounded so far away. Nothing to worry about. And now it’s here. Thanks a lot, time.