Throwback

Today I made progress on one job: painting the hallway. It took so much out of me that I didn’t make progress on another job that’s been hanging fire: assembling favourite photos. I have a suitcase full of old photos to go through and I can never seem to sit down and get on with it. But the other day I went through the downloads on my laptop and began a file of photos.

Here’s a golden oldie. I’m in the middle. My mom in yellow behind me and her sister, Kathleen, beside her. At either end are my cousins Jackie and Jill. The wee girl is my cousin Casey. My summers involved visiting the Jersey Shore and some of my 42 cousins--the Caseys, the Jamiesons, the Bernickers, the McMunigals. Those summers have a magical quality in my memory. If I were Barbara Kingsolver, I’d recreate them in loving, vivid detail.

I haven’t written about this much but my sister and I are estranged. We have been, more or less, for most of our adult lives. That’s one of the sad things about losing your sibling--no one to reminisce with who shared your childhood. The thing I notice in this photo is how one foot is stepping on the other. I was a fairly anxious child. My cousins seemed confident and refined and stylish and I always felt nervous and awkward around them. But I treasure those summers because of happy times on the beach playing with my cousins and being around my grandfather, who was fittingly nicknamed Mr. Wonderful.
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