Going through some of the leftover boxes from the move and ran across a few old pictures. This one is of my (adoptive) parents from 1964. They look so young and happy, which is not how I really remember them. My mom died when I was fourteen and I’ve recently cut off connection with my dad for a variety of reasons. It would be interesting to be able to go back and talk to them then. I’m sure they were much different from the people I knew and rememember.
This one is from the early 1980s. I like it because it is one of the only pictures of all three of us and we seem to look like a pretty normal family. I think this is how I felt we were always supposed to be, even though our actual family life was pretty terrible. It was worse as I got older, so I do feel a sense of nostalgia when I see this photo. But it is also easy for me to read things into it (that may or may not be accurate), such as my dad is looking away and even though he is with us, he seems oddly separate. I feel sad for him, because I think he could have been a really great man. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to overcome a lot of his past issues.
This one is from when I was about twelve and had found my birth mother. She’s not in this picture, but I’m up at her house with her other kids. Three older brothers and a younger sister. I was the only one put up for adoption. It was an odd experience at that age to spend time with people that I was biologically related to. I’d never had that before. And being raised as an only child, it was sort of overwhelming to suddenly be around a whole group of folks that I was related to!