This is a photo of my father’s “first family.” It’s too bad I think of them this way. After all, all his kids should be his family, then and forever more. Somehow, though, that’s not really the way it worked out. He divorced his first wife (with her youngest son, Lester, obscuring her face in this photo), moved to Ohio from Pennsylvania, and married my mother. He had little contact with these children after the divorce.
Once the two oldest sons were young adults, there was a re-establishing of a relationship with them, and my dad and his son, Ashley (sitting between his mom and his older brother, Bobby), were particularly close in Ashley’s adult years.
This pictures has some symbolism in it. Bobby, the oldest and on the far left, is making a goofy face — generally acting like a jerk. I don’t know if he’s ever stopped acting like a jerk.
Carlton, the third son, is seating down on the floor and his head is just about out of this picture. That is Carlton, now as the 64-year-old man he is: just about out of the picture. It’s his choice. He’s quite the recluse.
Belle, the only daughter, is on the far right, and she’s on the edge of the family, too, these days, not by choice, but that’s the way the others treat her.
And Lester, is right there in the front on his mom’s lap and next to her heart. Lester was killed in Vietnam in 1968 when he was just barely 19 years old and he’s always been in the center of our hearts. I think that he and Belle were particularly close.
Posted in Family of Origin, Vietnam, dysfunctional families | Tags: family, half-siblings, brothers and sisters, old photos
