Friday, April 12, 2013

A big reveal....

Today, I had a photo shoot.... okay, the first one I ever had that wasn't followed by the words, "Now go over there and pick the one you'd like to appear in the yearbook (church directory, etc.)." I found a local photographer who does vintage/pin-up style photography and decided I had to do this.

So the photographer and I drove in town and found a house to use.... to be fair, I thought it was vacant, but I found out later (after it was all over) that nope, people do live there, they just weren't there at the time. Oh well! We also used the front/roadside steps of the parents of some of my brother's friends - they were very kind enough to say yes to Melissa's request and their red and yellow flowers worked very nicely with my white-and-purple floral dress. Then I changed into another outfit and we used some empty buildings right on one of the primary business streets. Hey, a whole block of empty buildings and a few props and it was awesome!

Melissa showed me some of the shots on the camera, and I was in awe. But more than that, I noticed something I never had until today.........

All my life, I have wondered why I didn't really look like either of my parents. I don't necessarily "favor" one or the other, I have enough elements from both that it's a blend. But a couple of years back, one of the people I grew up with noted to me on Facebook that I looked like a younger, thinner version of my mom.

My mom? Really? I didn't see it. I have the lightest hair in the family, more like my dad's. I have his blue eyes. I definitely have his personality. But my mom, no. I have a coworker whose wife said, "I guess I was just an incubator" because when they were little, they both looked far more like their dad than their mom. And I could relate.

But looking at those photos today, I could really see it. I have my mom's senior yearbook (mid-50s) and seeing her in those pictures ... and seeing my own today ... was rather jarring. Obviously I'll always have my dad's eyes, his wit, his personality, but when I speak sometimes, I hear my mother's words or her inflections or tone coming out my mouth. I once saw a pillow that said, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, I've become my mother after all." I used to roll my eyes and think, "Oh, no!" And now......

Very interesting day.

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