As a young child during wartime, I dreamed of flying airplanes and making pretty pictures. I was blessed with a type of photographic recall that has served me well in a variety of learning arenas. I don’t consider myself a writer, certainly not formally educated in it, but I will do my best to convey this reawakening of the sights, sounds and smells, of my early life.
Having discovered I was adopted at age forty-five, suddenly my life began to make more sense. I am now almost seventy-eight it and some pieces are still coming together. Recently, I pulled out some old family photo albums that I inherited and began to check out the dates my father, an amateur photographer, conveniently placed on them. Some serious revelations have taken place as well as uncovering how much of my early life I can vividly recall. It has been an awakening of sorts.
I am older and have the good luck of being healthy. The older part is very hard to admit and I am faced with it every day. About me being old, It does help to know that I’m not the only one in the world. I have had a very interesting life up to this point and thought sharing some of it might be good therapy(for me). I have enjoyed having a sense of humor, although not all of my good friends and family have always appreciated it as much as I. It has helped me greatly when the going got rough. Better than aspirin I’d say.