That’s me on my mother’s lap in 1961.

Growing up our family table seated six.  There were seven of us.  I was the odd one out.  I wasn’t the youngest, but I was the only girl.  I did not fit.  I would have to bring a folding chair to the table and squeeze it in on one side with my younger brother and mother.

My whole life I have been searching for family even though my birth family was always right there.  These writings are my recollections of growing up in that family and of finding my own way in the world.  They are my perceptions and observations not meant to harm but only help others who might also feel an outcast or an observer rather than a member of your family.

You make your own family. You create your own whether through marriage or with friends.  That is the family that counts far more than the one from which you were birthed (in my humble opinion).


My first day of First Grade.

1970 1968