Mostly, I had to fight back tears. Suddenly, seeing these children was just too much. I’m trying to fight tears now as I type this. Those young and hopeful faces. Those little children. The old crooked christmas tree. The oranges and apples we received in paper sacks with our names on them (I never knew what a stocking was until I was older! I thought everyone received paper sacks of fruit and nuts!) when there wasn’t money for stockings and lots of candy and things. My hair growing out from where a babysitter cut it all off. The brother who wasn’t living with us yet is with us at Christmas in one photo–I wonder where our bio mom was that christmas? without any of her kids. The old houses we rented. There is one photo where one brother wasn’t living with us yet, but the rest of us are on the couch with Daddy- and in that strange way that looking back at photos brings, in that photo, Daddy has his arm around one of us, protecting, on the other side of us other kids, and that is the us who would leave us too soon at 32.
One photo of two of us, sister and brother-that was a photo that made it into the SG book, since my brother had sent it to me earlier. The feet touching. It made me wistful and sad.
so long ago.