Family Portrait

Revisiting past posts as I take this time to gain balance. Photo circa 1975.

Note: My youngest sister (pictured on the left) and myself (in the middle facing the camera) are the only “survivors” of our family chaos. Mom passed this past May; our eldest sister (next in the lineup) died at 43 of cancer; Aunt D, next to me, of cancer at 68; our other sister suffers schizophrenia and Parkinson’s lives in long-term care; the baby of the group lost to heroin addiction and what we now recognize as human trafficking in her late teens.

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VJ

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

43 thoughts on “Family Portrait”

  1. Powerful poetry with aching vivid history VJ. It reminds me of my growing up days where everyone looks picture perfect and yet the shadows of the past are haunting. Your gift of words comes through in every poem you write 💕

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    1. Yes. We had happy times too, but there was always the feeling of holding our breath waiting for the next bad thing. My father, who must have taken this photo, was a tortured man.

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