I have this picture on my desk of my siblings and me. I always was the chubby one with freckles so I guess you can probably tell which one is me. My mother always dressed my sister Sue and I the same in formal photos. Sue could pull it off better than I. She had pretty blond hair and pretty skin. I had bland, brown hair and.....well... freckles. Lots of them. blech! I always hated my freckles growing up. As I've gotten older and learned to like them, they've faded ALOT but I can still see them faintly if I peer into the mirror real close. It's as if my childhood is there, waiting for me like a tease, just below the surface. If I could wipe away the years of exposure to the sun, acid rain, stress and cigarette smoke the freckles would be there as bright as you please. But the little girl is gone.
The one in the front with the cool crewcut is my younger brother. To look at him in this picture... he looks like the picture of innocence. He doesn't wear his hair like that anymore, especially after his Army stint. Speaking of my brother and the Army...... did you know that if you are stationed in Honduras ... it's a big NO NO to get rippin' drunk, steal a native's cow and have a huge BBQ at an off base keg party? I didn't either! Go figure. He's calmed down a little over the years but he still knows how to throw a good party.
My older sister Sue appears to be all grown up now and everything but read this and judge for yourself! Up where she lives, it's a long, long, long cold winter and they have all sorts of freaky things to amuse themselves. Note to Sue: Don't worry, sis - I wont give away all your secrets!
My older brother is 9 years older than I and wasn't around after I turned 9 so I don't have alot of memories of him from our younger years. When he turned 18, things didn't go well between him and my father and he decided to take the ultimatum and leave. It was something we didn't talk about or ask about EVER afterward. I spent the rest of my childhood not knowing why my brother left.