in which I reminisce

I've been sorting through things, trying to get rid of junk and stuff I don't need. Masses of fabric are getting the boot, and I wish I had time to post them here to share with you all, but I don't. Anyway, the thing that stuck out to me was the disk I found full of photos from my sister's sixteenth birthday. I looked through them and first I was appalled at the image quality, then I laughed at the hair, and then I felt a sob that wanted to bubble up through my throat as I remembered that weekend, that was both golden and black.
Self portrait day will return, I promise. But for right now I'm going to remember.
When Porkchop turned 16 I was living and working in Oklahoma City. My big present that weekend was surprising her by flying home for the weekend. I seem to remember that she really was surprised; we'd been planning her birthday party for weeks and very elaborate invitations had been sent out. The theme was new york, so everyone was to wear black and we gave them all makeovers. Because don't you know: that's new york.

There was a trip to the Grands that weekend, and I don't know why I took my laptop along, but I assume it was to show grandma photos or footage or something from some trip. I don't know, but I love her expression here. Also please note that I'm told I look like her. And that makes me happy.

For some reason that weekend we acquired a tiara and proceeded to make the birthday girl wear it. All. Weekend. Long. We also made her scoot down the playplace slide while we were on bus visitation and I love this photo. She looks so happy. We were happy, right then. We were on visitation, hanging out, being silly, reunited as the Three Musketeers.

I don't remember the whole story on this one, I just know that we referred to Joy as Mrs. pacman for a while. So when we saw this we had to take a stupid picture.

I don't know why Fred is shirtless here, but LOOK HOW TINY HE IS. The rest of the photos from this bit are of us in our pajamas, running around acting like dorks, excited for life, glad to be together.

These two are from the actual party. There's plenty more blackmail running around where these two came from, but the significance of the second one is that she's actually eating. At the time that was kinda of a big deal, as I recall. Please note: all these photos are labeled "Fiona." We really called her that for a while.

This was taken on the actual day of her birthday. We had another dress and the crappy digital camera and we did a mini photoshoot. The white dress is one I picked up for super cheap at a store in ohio and it fit her so she had to wear it. (It's since been worn to at least two formals.) And the photo is lame, but she About ten minutes after I took this my dad came outside to tell us that my mom was moving out. And with that, although I think we knew it was coming, my world, at least, kind of crumbled. All I could think was "Really? You're leaving four of your five children, two of which are still being homeschooled by you, to go "take care" of the oldest child, the one who's lived on her own for years now?"
Now, years later, I know there was much more to it than that. But right then it felt like a slap in the face.

This was taken at my grandparents, and things were bad. The parentals were fighting, there was tension, we were looking at the end, I think we knew, and yet hoped we weren't. At least I was. This photo was so awkward; I wanted nothing less than to pose together, trying to smile, trying to pretend it was all ok. A couple days later I flew back to oklahoma city and started packing up my life, heading home to my family for good. A few weeks later I was home. Weeks after that my mom moved back in before she left for the last time.
There's no point to this post, not really. I just wanted to remember who we were, in the bad times and the good. And I love this last picture most of all, because no matter what, I always, always have my sisters. My parents? Heck. They come and go. Friends change. But my sisters are there. No matter what.


*tiffany* said…
This is beautiful.
Porkchop said…
Oh my. Oh my. Oh my.

As sad as pictures can be, our times together were always so happy.

Also. Let us dwell together on my thin arms. And our admirable ability to endlessly amuse ourselves.
Porkchop said…
I was thinking about this post this morning, and I suddenly remembered why we called Joy Ms. Pacman.

Because she had really nice legs and could (and still can) eat enormous amounts of food without changing size.

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