What My Family’s Old Photos Taught Me About Preservation (And Why I Became a Photo Restoration Artist)

On one of my visits to Cuba, my mom and I were talking about my grandparents. About when she was young. I told her I wished we had more photos of our family. She said there was an old album, but she had not touched it in years. She was afraid that if she did, it would only get worse.

Then she climbed to the back of a closet to get it.

When she handed it down to me, the pages were soft with age and covered in mold. Faces I recognized were half-hidden behind discoloration that had been quietly spreading for decades.

They were photos of my grandparents when they were young. Photos of my mother as a little girl. My aunt as a little girl. Moments from a life in Cuba I had never seen frozen in time like this.

My grandparents raised me. Looking at photos of them in their twenties, full of life, was one of the most powerful things I have ever experienced.

I did not have as much experience then as I do today, but I knew what I needed to do. I decided to restore the whole album to honor my grandparents and to revive the stories that lived in those photos

When I came back to the United States, I packed it carefully in my empty carry-on. When I arrived home, I started the process, and I have been adding to my family’s collection ever since.

There are more waiting for me. My grand-aunt recently brought my mom photos of her and my grandpa as children, and even a few of my great-grandparents. They will be next.

What photographs actually hold

Old family photos are what remain of the people we love after they are gone. Not just images, but evidence. Proof that they were young once, that they laughed, that they stood in a field or a kitchen or a street with the people they loved most. After generations, if those images are not preserved, that evidence disappears. Forever.

For me, this work has always been more than a craft. It is a deeply meaningful artistic journey. I have now completed over 300 restorations, representing more than 12,000 years of family history saved. (And that number does not even include my last 50 restorations!) Every single one has been done with the same care I gave to my own family’s album. That is not a line. It is the only way I know how to do this work.

More Restoration Stories:

The photo from 1940

One of the restorations that stays with me most is Alina’s. She brought me a photo of her father taken in Cuba in 1940. It was very small, razor-thin, low quality, faded almost beyond recognition. In it, he stands with his mother, his father, and his two brothers. All of them are now deceased. It's the only photo he has with all of them together.

Alina had it restored as a Christmas gift in 2023. When her father saw it, she made a video. I have watched that video many times. Every time, it moves me to tears.

Alina wrote:

“I wanted to give my Dad a Christmas surprise! This is the only picture he has with his mother, father, and two brothers, dated 1940. The original picture is extremely small and has bad-quality pixels. We thought restoring it wouldn’t be possible, but Odette did her magic! The final product was beyond belief. We both were astonished and couldn’t hide our euphoric emotions. Neither could my father when he received the gift. I will be perpetually grateful to Odette.”

La diva que tocó vidas

Patricia Millán came to me to restore the photo for a book cover. Her mother was a Colombian singer whose life was built around helping others. The world needed to know her story so she was writing a book about her mother.

The photos needed restoration before they could live in the pages of that book. When the work was done, those images became part of La diva que tocó vidas.

Patricia wrote:

“I am incredibly grateful to Odette Photo+Art for beautifully restoring the old photographs from my mother’s photo album, which became an important part of my book, La Diva que Tocó Vidas. Her talent, attention to detail, and genuine passion for preserving memories are truly remarkable. It was a pleasure working with her, and I wholeheartedly recommend her to anyone looking for exceptional photo restoration.”

A restored photograph that ends up in a published book reaches more than one family. It reaches everyone who reads the story.

The photo from a fishing trip

More recently, Lisa from Nashville reached out about a photo her friend had treasured for decades. A picture of him and his father on a fishing trip, taken fifty years ago. On almost every visit to Miami, he'd mention that it was fading. So she decided to do something about it. She reached out while driving to Miami and we coordinated the whole thing.

He had no idea. His wife quietly swapped the original for a print so I could work from it. I worked overtime to have it ready. Under three days, start to finish.

Lisa wrote:

“Odette was lovely to work with. I knew how precious this photo was to my friend — taken on a fishing trip with his father 50 years ago. His wife and I really wanted to have it restored for him. Odette was able to walk us thru the steps and did a rush print and delivery to get it done in less than 3 days!!! The look on his face was priceless and, in his words, ‘the most thoughtful gift he had ever received.’ We cannot even begin to thank you enough for working with us to make this happen! The quality is perfection and looks like it was taken yesterday.”

The photo that became a tattoo

I have done over 300 restorations, but one of the most unexpected stories came the day a client sent me a photo of her husband’s arm.

She had brought me a photograph of her husband and his mother, taken in Colombia in 1970. We restored it together. And then he had it tattooed on his skin.

He carries his mother with him. Every day. For the rest of his life.

That is love.

Why Cuban and Latin American families carry this differently

The majority of my restoration work comes from Cuban and Latin American families. I don't think this is a coincidence.

In our culture, family and memory are not abstract values: they are the architecture of who we are. We hold onto photographs, stories, and traditions because they connect us to where we came from. And for many of us, particularly those whose families crossed an ocean or a border to build a new life, those photographs are sometimes the only physical legacy that remains.

Legacy is at the core of everything I do, and that comes directly from my heritage. Whether I'm restoring a photo taken in Cuba in 1940 or photographing a client in Miami today, I'm making sure that the people we love are never forgotten.

What I want you to do this Hispanic Heritage Month

Call your parents. Or your grandparents. Or your tía.

Ask them if there is a drawer, a closet, or a box they have not opened in years. There is a very good chance there is something in it that deserves to survive the next generation.

If you find a photo that is fading, damaged, or almost gone, I can help.

To give a restored photo as a gift the way Alina did, consider having the finished print framed before you present it. In Coral Gables, Rudma Pictures does beautiful custom framing. Every time I work with them, it's a great experience.

You can learn more about how restoration works on my photo restoration page. If you have a photo in mind, reach out, and I will tell you honestly what is possible.

This work began with Katerin’s family photos in 2020, and continued with my own family’s album, brought home from Cuba in an empty carry-on. It continues every day in the faces I uncover and the stories I help preserve.

I am grateful for every single one.

To my grandma Aleida and my grandpa Luis: thank you for everything you did to raise me. Everything I am, everything I do, I do it so you can be proud of me wherever you are.