Today I saw Younger Daughter face to face when she came to pick up more of her stuff; I got her address, and a bit caught up on her life. (not all of it, I'm sure) Most important were the hugs though. They are a form of connection that also gives such comfort. Yesterday was the beginning of a couple months full of holidays and "anniversaries." November 8th is the date John's wife Christine died of metastatic breast cancer. Today is one of my younger brother's birthdays; he would have been 63 but died of suicide at nearly 25 years old. John's anniversary is the 11th, and Thanksgiving brings back memories of my dad's last Thanksgiving in 2020 and my late husband's horrible end of November in 2012. (he passed away on December 4th) My wedding anniversary is December 15th and I first met my husband December 31st. We were at a New Year's Eve Party when I spotted him in his toga. I was with my fiancé at the time--an intriguing story, yes? ;) I work through these festive months the best I can but make no apologies and feel no guilt if I'm not delirious with the holiday spirit.
Here was Don's 2nd birthday with his big sister (me) and our beloved father. I miss you, Dad!
Don ended up with a natural Afro and, although you can't tell from this photo, extremely dark skin. In the summer, he got very brown, eliciting some ugly not-very-appropriate comments. I won't sully this blog with them.
My youngest (and only surviving) brother looks a lot like Don and they both are clones of my dad. I don't see myself in either one of them, do you?
I don't really know who I look like. Myself? :)
As most of you are aware, I'm the personal representative of my step-grandmother's estate, which included a sizeable bequest to the local volunteer fire department. However, the check got lost/misplaced either by the USPS or the organization; that led to a wonderful chat with the Fire Chief last night and a peek at their Facebook page. Their profile picture shows the September 1, 1947 Labor Day Parade; standing on the running board is my dear Great Uncle Stan who was also the Fire Chief of their small town. My mom got quite a kick out of seeing this old photo!
The humble blackberry is so hardy; some are still thriving in spite of the atrocious weather. If they can do that, so can I. After all, my success rate at getting through this time of the year currently sits at 100%.
