It’s June 4th, a big day to celebrate love in our family. No, it’s not Valentine’s Day … June 4th is the day that 72 years ago my mom and dad were married. She was all of 15, and he was 22 when it all began. Who would have thought a couple so young and naïve would have made it, but their marriage lasted for 57 years. June 4th was such a great day in our family, my sister and her husband also chose to get married on June 4th, and so did one of their friends, and Steve and I would have done so as well had the church been available. So when June 4th rolls around, I think a lot about what love means, and about my parents quite a bit.
My mom and dad wrote the script for what love and caring should look like for me. Their marriage wasn’t perfect, but there was never any doubt that they loved one another. First and foremost, and sometimes to my horror, they loved to talk about how much they couldn’t keep their hands off one another! There were always hugs and touches going on. But more than that, it was the little things they did for one another everyday that spoke volumes.
He always brought her flowers, she brought him coffee in bed. She would wake up every morning before the sun rose to cook his breakfast and pack his lunch, and she always made sure that dinner was on the table when he walked in the door at the end of the day. Food was a big part of my mom’s existence, and food was most definitely her love language, spoken fluently as her way of nurturing those she held dear.
As a young child, I was always underfoot in the kitchen, watching and observing the many, many meals being prepared, and let’s face it, that’s how Cajun girls learn how to cook! As my mom would be cooking up fried chicken, or panéed pork chops, there was inevitably one piece of meat that would stand out as looking like it would be the tastiest. Mom would say, “I’m going to put that one aside for Daddy”. Puzzled by her selflessness, I would ask, “Why don’t you keep the best one for yourself?”
With a gentle smile, she would impart a lesson that would shape my understanding of love and care for years to come. “Because, when you love someone,” she’d say, “you want them to have the best.” Those words, simple yet profound, became a guiding principle in my life. They shaped the way I approached not just food, but everything I do, including my business.
Much like my mom’s approach to food, photography isn’t just a job for me; it’s a labor of love. Every time I pick up my camera, I’m not just capturing images; I’m weaving together the threads of my clients’ stories, preserving moments that will become cherished memories for years to come. And much like my mom with her pork chop, I strive to give my clients the best of myself, the best of my talents, and the best of my heart. It’s never been about chasing after a paycheck. It’s about making a meaningful impact, and creating experiences that give my clients not just photographs, but memories that will last a lifetime.
So, to all my clients past, present, and future, know this – when you choose me as your photographer, you’re not just hiring a service; you’re welcoming me into your lives, trusting me with your most precious moments. And just like my mom with her pork chop, I promise to give you the best of myself, because when you love someone, you want nothing but the best for them. And heck … if I ever have the chance to make dinner for you, there’s a pretty good chance I’d give you the best pork chop!
Whitney Van NuisThis is beautiful, Maryann. It’s a lovely story and I agree with your mom. Save the best pork chop for those you love.