I blame two people for this.

Okay 3.

First my mother...b/c it's so dang easy to blame her and after all...she organized the whole shabang.

2nd the photographer. Fine. So we'd had a few great conversations about spirituality, his overcoming a drinking addiction and the fact that he and his wife were now leading a AAA meeting in town.  And fine. So I was inspired to offer to attend one of his AAA meetings to observe his teaching style and offer my perspective. (He'd listened to my story about overcoming a few addictions and was inspired).   And fine. So he complimented my big blue eyes, told me I had a healing way about me….but did that warrant his making me the tallest person in the photo???

Did he have to have me appear 3 feet (okay, maybe 2 feet) taller than my entire family, including my 6 ft 3inches stepdad in our HOLIDAY PHOTO?

3rd person: of course..me. I should have sooo said NO WAY!

FINE FINE FINE!

Hello. do you hear the angst of a 13 year old who was always too tall to dance with any boy during those horrific cotillion lessons my mother made me go to?...taller than everyone, even a few teachers?

I'm sorry. I'm venting. Here's the deal.

It was JULY! JULY!  Yes the dang summer. DAY AFTER 4th of July to be exact. One summer ago...and we were all (me, my sis and her family, my bro and his family / kids and my mom/stepdad and all our dogs) at their home in Colorado. Not for Christmas ...nor for the 4th of July but for my stepdad's 60th. Fine. Good reason to gather.

What no one anticipated til like about two weeks before our arrival my mom would get the braniac to have a 'holiday photo session" 24 hours before his party. And she promptly calls all of us to arrive a day early. And then proceeds to tell us the uniform we must wear: solid long sleeved shirt, jeans, boots.

Hello. At the time I"m living in the Florida Keys. I'm not at all boot friendly have zero pairs (western that is) and am not about to go shopping for them in 90+ degree weather.

(All this angst is on purpose as my mother is actually my best friend). Her timing stunk. All of us had our travel plans arranged.

But try to say no to mom? Forget it. Doesn't work. My bro, sis, and I got on the phone and figured a way to get to their home in time for this photoshoot. (She made it sound like a huge deal, we couldn't miss it, blah blah blah, we're never altogether). And then she said the deal sealer 'but this is going to be our FAMILY Christmas PHOTO" and you have to be there!!! I can’t take a holiday photo without my children and their families!!! You are ALL MY FAMILY.  So that's it. No more discussion. You are to be here wearing the right attire, at 3pm sharp!   And Tresha, make up this time honey. This is our FAMILY PHOTO. See you soon and can’t wait! KISSES!"

Ugh.
Either I am horrible at not feeling obligated or my mother is queen of laying on the potential guilt. Probably a bit of both.

But like the siblings on the TV series Brothers and Sisters, it’s impossible for any of us to say no to mom EVEN when she’s being illogical!

So all of us arrive on time for the photo shoot (my brother has 5 in his family, my sister 4--3 humans and a dachsund, I have a dog so I’m 1.5). And we're dressed in the appropriate 'required attire.' Well, okay I admit. I’m the rebel. I showed up in flip flops not boots. I mean I had to show off my Key West tan, didn’t i? And my toe rings?

My sister's family chose a dynamite looking royal blue color for their 'shirt.' She her husband, her daughter and their dachsund….all in blue. My brother, my sister 'n law and their 3 kiddos and all wore red. I wore a burnt mustard color... and my Bichon was simply his Rastafarian lookin’ self. There was no time for a grooming.

But you can be sure mom’s Bichon was coiffed to the nine’s. She a darling dog but gets more pampering then most women! ☺

Mom first says to me “Tre, what about makeup? You have to wear eyeliner. This is the Christmas photo!” I had sufficient—to my liking—make up on….always a bone of contention between mom and me.

I give her that look…that look that is silent but basically says ‘Look woman! You are my mother and I adore you. But I just drove 20+ hours with my sister and her family and we beelined it up here to get to this dang photo-shoot, skipping not one not two but at least five carnivals with fireworks displays and ferris wheels (my favorite ride) so as not to miss the FAMILY Christmas photo. So don’t talk to me about make up mother. I’m here aren’t I?'

I mean sometimes the look says it all.

And then she said something else. "And what about Berkeley (my Bichon). Don’t you think you could have bathed him before the photo?”

Can you see this? 7 adults, 4 children and 3 dogs all outdoors standing amidst the aspens of Colorado with the photographer trying to rally us all and my mother is telling me I ought to have bathed my dog.

Hello. NO ONE said anything about the DOGS being in the photo. And forget trying to contain my Bichon. He was frolicking in the aspens and having fun after a 20 hour road trip. So be it!

Now I glance at her photographer friend who mother went on and on about how talented he is and I’m respecting his patience with us all and then he said that phrase that made me cringe.

“Okay. I need the single one. The tall one without a husband. Where is she? I need her right here!”

Hello. As if I hadn’t introduced myself to him earlier telling him he was welcome to call me 'Tre' because 'Tresha' is hard for most to pronounce. (Don’t get me started. The years I’ve had to make up for the fact that mother broke the laws of vowels and phonemes and only gave me one ‘e’ instead of 2…so while my name is pronounced Tree-sha it only has one ‘e and throws off everyone).  

And as if he should know anything about my marital status? I didn’t recall telling him I was single. I am, and proud of it, but so what? For all he knew my fiancée or partner couldn’t make the trip.

I was more than feeling feisty with this new nickname..on top of everything else! But then I consented. I actually responded to his plea for the ‘single one’ and mad that I caved to that nickname, I just let him tell me where to stand!!!!

Except, I couldn’t let go the fact that I felt taller than everyone I stood next to. He positioned me on this ledge insisting, “Don’t worry the way I’ll angle the lens you’ll blend in with everyone else.”

I fully doubted this. But again, opted to keep silent. Who knew what would blare outa my mouth if I said anything. Right at that moment every ounce of me was thinking “Can’t we just be a normal family in our regular clothes and just do candids? Why the heck does everything have to be orchestrated and formal???” (38++ years of angst was imbedded in that statement).

I became silently wise and shut the heck up before exploding.

So he took the photo. And several more. Of all the mini family groupings. And then he called out yet again ‘Where’s the single one? Gotta  have some solo shots of her.”

Now I confronted him. This dear sweet photographer man.
“You know "Mr. Photographer Man. The NAME is TREE-SHA. Tresha. Get it? Not the single one, Not the unmarired one. Just Tresha. Simple.  Not the one without children, Not the one with just the dog. Not the one lacking ANY-thing thank you very much. Just Tresha. And you would do well to call me by my name. It’s rather simple to say. And I would appreciate it.”

To which he responds “There there. Hey Mom? You were right about this one! You did say she was the feisty one didn’t you!”

Oh I was so done. I thanked him and scooped up my Bichon. And my sister was laughing and reminding me to lighten up. I did. But as I’m going inside to grab a soda, I see the photographer positioning my mom, stepdad and their dog against a few aspens. And I thought to myself “How simple. They could have just done that for their photo. But actually it’s cool of mom to want to include all of us in their photo this year." And it really was. I mean it was the first family gathering in a long while and not simply because we all have a difficult time getting our schedules to conincide. Much healing and forgiveness had gone on over the years and seeing us all gathered in one place reminded me of what's really important.

And with that, I started to appreciate all the many efforts mom made to gather us together. And I actually thought it was really kinda nice of her to want to share this whole diverse expression of family in her Christmas cards.

Okay. Flash forward to December 1 of last year. I get an envelope in the mail from my mother.
In it is the family photo, her Christmas card.

Guess what image she chose? She, my stepdad and their dog. By the aspens. I kid you not. And in the envelope were the proofs of the other photos. And a little note. “Honey, I hope you don’t mind. We opted this photo b/c you were kinda too tall in the family one. Why are you standing up so high above everyone else? Well, anyway, we decided to just send out something simpler.”

I don’t know what I did first: scream, cry, laugh, but I do remember thinking ‘all that fuss and not a single one of us made it to the final photo.’

Go figure!

So there ya have it. The worst holiday photo I was ever in. That photo was shared with several however….as mom did create an album and every single person who goes through it says to me “Eh! Tre, I know you’re tall but why are you standing up over everyone in this photo!”

I just shake my head and think “ ‘the single one’ lost out over a bichon!” ☺ (mom’s dog).

I don’t know what’s funnier: the memory of the whole crazy day or mom’s message on her card:

‘Happy Holidays from Jan, Roger and family!”

What FAMILY? NONE of us made it to the final photo!!!

Gotta love mom. Truth? She looked awesome in those images by the tree. ☺Mom’s no fool!☺