They expelled sighs so melodramatic they could have launched a sailboat regatta.


“Geez, there she goes again. Going for another candid shot, mom?”


That’s the kind of reaction I get from my family when I pull out the camera.


There’s a difference between a photographer and a picture-taker; and, sadly, I’m the latter. (I know this because I work with some amazing photographers — and I’m nowhere in their league.)


Because the four members of my family — husband Tim and myself, son Steve, and daughter Valerie — live in three different states, the opportunities to “freeze” those occasions when we are all together are becoming increasingly rare.


So, when they do occur, I just click, click, clickety-click-click.


I guess I have this haunting fear that I will forget. After a family get-together back in November, however, my adult children made it clear that the sentimentality — and the mechanics involved, thereof — annoyed the heck out of them.


So I pushed the camera back in the case and decided then and there, “I’ll show them. NO pictures over the winter holidays.” And I stuck to it. The camera stayed on the desk upstairs the whole week Steve was home and the three weeks Valerie was here.


But there were pictures I would have wanted.


My 22-year-old daughter playing hide-and-seek with her kitten, Gracie Belle, for example.


Steve, 24, and his dad working out the perfect recipe for barbecue ribs.


Both of the kids laughing with their old high school friends, who are now so grown-up and so good-looking and so “on their way.”


I would have liked to have captured the sparkle in Valerie’s eyes when she rolled a Yahtzee on the very first toss of the dice — and then a second Yahtzee in the same game, bringing me to my knees in defeat.


Or the satisfied smirk on Steve’s face when he placed all seven of his Scrabble tiles, M-A-R-O-O-N-D, around an open E on the board, for the 96 points that left me, well, marooned.


I would have lingered over the reflection of serenity on Valerie’s sweet face as she sat on an oversized chair near a big window, her legs curled underneath her, as she sipped hot cocoa just after our mother-daughter hot-stone massages. And I’d still be getting a laugh at the image of Steve walking around the kitchen wearing an Eagles football icon-emblazed cook’s apron over jeans and a bare torso — while his good friend Emily just shook her head, giggling at him. I’d like my photo albums to include a picture of Steve and his dad slouched on the sofa, reaching for the pub mix and cheering for their favorite teams.


And it would have been great to add a picture of Tim and Valerie as they walked toward the car for their movie “date” together.


The best shot, though, would have been the loving embrace shared by my two oh-so-opposite offspring who would fly off in oh-so-opposite directions, one to Florida and one to California.


Funny, as I reflect on the pictures that might have been — well, I realize most of them would not have been anyway. For as much as I like pointing a camera lens at my family, I would not have even considered it for most of the things I just mentioned.


Hmmmm. Something just clicked.




Anne Koenig is editor of the Living section. Write to her at: akoenig@lnpnews.com. blog comments powered by Disqus