Mom's note on the back of the picture says I was seven years old. Oh, how I long for the simplicity and ease of fetus-larva time, back when my eyes were still blue. Before I got weird; before my nostrils started growing and never stopped.
The obvious comparison does not evade me, but at least it's spelled different:
This is Mom and my older sister. I am fairly sure I did not yet exist when the photo was taken, because Mom is smiling and happy. It's clear from my sister's troubled expression that she has some idea what's about to happen to her. Muahaha.
My mom was a natural redhead. I love the shape of her nose. It's good to see her looking young and happy instead of like a ziplock baggie of white dust and pulverized bones in a small silver box with Swarovski crystals on it that plays showtunes when you turn the star-shaped crank.
I still have the necklace she's wearing. She wore it daily for something like 30 years, and now the eyelet is worn clean through. I have those rings, too, in another ziplock bag. This bag has a biohazard symbol on it, and a label with her personal information printed on it. The rings are no longer wearable because they were clipped off her fingers by medical staff when she went to the hospital for the last time. I'm not the jewelry-wearing type anyway, so it's all good.
Today I give thanks for the best parts of a weird as fuck childhood. Cheers!
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Oh my gawd, you're a chibi!!! Squeeee!
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