When I gaze at the black and white photo of you, at four years old, I find your personality so perfectly framed.
You sit at the kitchen table in our childhood home. Sun comes in from the window behind you, lighting up your hair and creating a sort of halo around you.
Your right arm is bent at the elbow. You hold a fork in your hand. Your face is turned towards the camera, and your winsome smile tells it all.
Your hair is cut short so it must be summer. Your top has frilly cap sleeves that flutter off your shoulders. You are wearing shorts, and your legs hang down from the padded chair, but don’t quite touch the floor.
Most poignant of all, there is a band-aid near your elbow, hiding a childhood cut or scrape.
Your eyes can see the future, with all the sadness and drama life will bring. And yet, your ability to smile and even laugh in the face of the trauma shines there too.
Little girl willing to stand up to whatever may come her way.
Your expression tells me even at four years old, you were looking for a chance to say what needs to be said, to be what you can be, to have some fun along the way.
Your Sister Janet