Each year, my family had a picture taken for our holiday card. My mom chose the outfits, the location and the photographer. The picture was used for the card for our family of four. It was also sent to my grandparents to be included in the larger Williams family card which featured my grandparents, my dad and his two sisters and respective families.
This was not an optional exercise.
Given my grandfather’s political positions, thousands of these cards were sent out and the list included Kennedys, Johnsons, Romneys and more. As an adult, I have been made aware of antique shops in Michigan selling the entire collection of the family cards. Although I would pay to have these destroyed, it is hard for me to imagine why anyone else would pay for them.
It was a joyous time of year and the occasion one of togetherness. My family had so much love.
And yet … picture taking day was always marked with discord, contention, yelling, crying and even possibly biting (and not by the dogs).
Sometimes our smaller family picture included just my brother and me – but the picture for the Williams family card always had to have all of us. We did a good job hiding behind the scenes chaos.
Except for 1969, which forever defined me as the “difficult child” and for which one day I will be in therapy.
I was two and a half and I probably thought the world revolved around me. We lived in Ann Arbor. Our neighborhood was close and full of kids. One set of grandparents lived outside of Detroit and one set in Lansing. We were surrounded by love.
On picture day 1969, all I wanted was to hold Moosie, our Yorkshire Terrier puppy.
Is that so much to ask?
Apparently I threw a slight temper tantrum when I was told “no.”
But the picture taking had to go on!
You can see that my dad has a vise like grip on me and I am trying to pry his fingers off.
My mom is beyond mad at me and looks scary.
My brother is smirking.
And Moosie wanted to be with me.
Can you imagine my grandparents response when they received this picture for the family card?
