A Baby Picture of Yours Truly

I love this picture. It's my parents, my older sister Rachel, and me in 1966. (Since I was born in August of '65, and I'm shirtless in this shot, it must be summer of '66. ) Look what a cute baby I was! Soft and chunky, that's me-- always and forever, I guess.

I'm loving the dress my mom's wearing. So feminine and comfy. My dad's glasses and skinny legs kill me. I am struck by the obvious affection he has for his family. Some things never change. See how he's holding Rachel and squishing up close to Mama? I think if he had three arms, he would be touching me somehow with his gentle, loving hands.

I also notice the detail of Daddy's watch. He's always been a watch-wearer, always punctual when by himself. When the family has all had to be somewhere together, though? Not so much. It's been one of the most sanctifying things in his life. We really knew how to slow him down with our bickering, our pokeyness, our wardrobe woes, our hairspray, and sisterly drama. (I remember the year he and I were in the play "The Music Man" together at a local community college theatre, he was a River City Volunteer fireman and I was Amaryllis. He had one line, when the townspeople had decided to tar and feather Harold Hill. His line was, "Well? What are we waiting for?" It couldn't have been easier for him to remember.)

This house in Baltimore City was one my parents bought and turned into apartments (or maybe it was already in apartments). They were tenderhearted toward internationals who, at that time, had a hard time finding landlords who would rent to them. My parents named this the International Friendship House. I remember a man named Feruz, but not fondly-- he always greeted me by pinching my cheeks. I guess they were irresistible. I can still feel the pain.

Anyway, I am in the process of scanning and cropping a lot of old pictures in preparing for my parents' upcoming 50th anniversary party. I'll be showing a few (or more?) shots from my past in the near future.