The first is the tragedy of forgetting. Our lives are a treasure trove of scattered memories.

• Little moments in life remind us of the past — food that grandma used to make, or mornings when we wake up and our heart aches, trying to remember... Wishing we could be back in the past. Wishing we could speak to someone we’ve lost.

• The thousands of photos and videos we capture are like a dusty attic box of memories. It’s a chore to find anything in the digital mess. And even when you do, it’s just a silent image, or a video frozen in time — a story without its storyteller. This means you can’t share your day with them again and find the advice and words of comfort—no way to hear their comfort during a future hardship or feel their pride on your wedding day.

The second is the tragedy of separation. We are more connected, yet more lonely, than ever. The people who matter most are often just a text message away, but we lack the tools to truly nurture these bonds against the currents of busy lives and growing distance.

• This distance is felt most acutely by our elders, who can feel isolated from the daily rhythm of their family's life. A grandchild's soccer game, a new recipe, a funny moment—these small joys that make up a life are lost to the digital clutter. For a loved one struggling with dementia, this separation can feel like a fading connection to the world.

• For the rest of us, the tragedy is in the friction of modern life. The simple act of scheduling a family call becomes a logistical nightmare of back-and-forth texts. A simple tech question from a parent can become a source of mutual frustration. And when we finally do connect with friends, our hurried lives mean we forget the very stories from the past month we meant to share, leading to conversations that are catching up, but not truly connecting.