Friday, February 20, 2015
When I chose this photo for Throw Back Thursday, all I was l was looking for as I dug through the archive was a group pic of my family of origin. But the more I examine it, I think there's enough going on here to be the basis for a novel. So disparate are each of our expressions and poses it almost seems as if it was photoshopped together. Each of us has our own little story going on here. Mom in the center, all calm, composed and very pretty, and completely oblivious to little brother Cullen in her arms who appears distressed if not outright crying. Older brother Scott to the right, all GQ and nonchalant, his jacket rakishly pulled to one side by his pocketed hand. Darling little golden-haired Martine in front, squinting into the sun and waiting patiently for our father to take the picture already. Me to the left, a shy downcast grin, wearing my recently acquired pink cat-eye glasses. In our Sunday best, I think this may have been Easter. I don't recall attending church frequently, if at all when we lived in Denver, but this is most definitely the house on Victor Street. If frequent moves make anything easier, it would have to be identifying the date and location of childhood snapshots. The various yards and houses and furniture give practically every year its own distinct setting. Cullen's casual attire probably means that he is staying home with Dad while Mom whisks the older three of us off to Easter services. But first, let's get out the camera to capture the moment. I have no actual memory of this day in my eight year old life. I do remember Mom's red-striped dress as well as the Peter Pan-collared dresses Martine and I are wearing. I look back on this as an innocent time. Before any clues that my parents would eventually separate and divorce. All I likely knew on this spring day in 1965 was that I was wearing my favorite dress. That we would get home from church and hunt for the colored eggs Dad had hidden while we were gone. And that my new glasses made the world focused and bright again.