Well, now I obviously need a Cactus.

IMG_1987

I just got home from several days in Phoenix for a wedding. (Not My Wedding, you freaker-outers.) My cousin got married, and our family came from far and wide to celebrate.

So now I’m back home, and I’m in the glorious place of recalling memories and making my list of favorite moments. It’s a tough call to choose a favorite.

It might have been the joy of traveling with Peter, of sharing our first trip together. It might have been sitting next to him on the plane, sharing headphones and listening (and mouthing the lyrics) to Michael Buble.

(He usually sleeps on flights, but sitting next to me is not conducive to sleeping always. I’m more fun. That’s all there is to it. Sometimes I feel like I have to apologize to someone for how much fun we’re having together, and then I remember, wait. No, I don’t.)

It might have been the moment my brother arrived, when we all rushed out to the driveway to welcome him, and when I finally got to say, “Rob, I’d like for you to meet Peter.” And all the pieces of my puzzle came together.

It might have been when we filled two tables at TGI Fridays and Peter finally got his Red Plate Dinner, our tradition for welcoming someone new into our family.   At a Red Plate Dinner, the guest of honor is the focus of the conversation, and we take turns asking questions to learn more.

Questions included:

  • On your next birthday, what will you say you learned this year that you didn’t know last year?
  • What do love about Tucker and Tyler?
  • If you were a business, what would be your mission statement?
  • What are your top five favorite movies?
  • Tell us an embarrassing moment
  • What do you love most about my daughter?
  • Would you rather kiss Lady Gaga or Michelle Obama?

(I’ll let you guess the age bracket of that last interviewer. Some little askers have different values and goals at the table, but everybody gets their own ask to use however they want.)

My favorites may have been the series of Dollar Bets, which included Tucker going by a woman’s name for five days, and my brother’s impromptu tap dance for captive diners at TGI Fridays. (Stay tuned for that post. And get your dollars out.)

My favorite may have been making my famous and beloved Overnight Caramel Rolls for my family. Or perhaps that they actually turned out flawlessly. Or the fact that my children didn’t like them, which makes them weird and questionably mine, and only meant more for the rest of us.

My favorite may have been the cactus.  Those little guys, all in charge of their prickly world. IMG_1987

My favorite might have happened at the wedding, when Peter met more of my extended family and the whole thing had the volume and chaos of the cast of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. We are loud and a lot.

Or my favorite moment may have been watching my cousin as he watched his bride come down the aisle to him. There’s a special place in my heart for a groom who sees his bride and can only barely keep it together. (I predict that Peter will be a mess.)

It may have been the Game Night when we all played Outburst Jr. When the object was to list Things That Are Yellow, and Peter blanked and could only name a Banana, or when the category was Things You Take On a Camping Trip and my brother could only think of Flannel Shirts.

My favorite may have been – and probably definitely always is – the hours of conversation with my family where we talk about podcasts and books and leadership conferences and work projects and promotions and wedding plans and whatever topics we’re all excited about including the legendary family folklore and tall tales of vacations gone by.

Or, wait – this just in – it may have been the wedding reception, when my aunt and uncle did the jitterbug, when Tyler accidentally got the first dance with the bride, when my parents twirled around the floor in the way I’ve watched all my life, when the next generation learned the Electric Slide, and when Peter and I danced like nobody was watching. I contend that the most fun time to attend a wedding is when you’re anticipating your very own.

I cannot choose a favorite. I cannot. It was all too good.

Tricia Lott Williford

Comments are closed

  1. loved every word – as always. Yes, Peter will be a mess — but I am predicting you will be a bigger mess – ha! your words always paint a picture in my mind or a video tape more like it – the sign of a great writer dear Tricia!

  2. Soooo happy for you!

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