Here’s a picture of my adoptive Mom, Joan and myself at three years old. I don’t have that many pictures of my past with me but I love this picture. My aMom looks so happy and I look like annoyed that I was interrupted from eating cake just to pose for the camera. It was probably my aFather taking the picture. I don’t remember much at this age but the hutch that’s behind me is actually my bSister’s apartment! I asked her to hold on to it and if she doesn’t want it anymore to let me know before just giving it away. I may want to store it or sell it for another heirloom.
Have you noticed words like aMom? bSister? Etc. It’s just a shorten way for me to write “adoptive Mother” or biological sister. I have three families to love now, my adoptive, biological and married family. So sometimes it gets confusing for others when I mention my aSister who is in her 60s versus my bSister who is in her 40s.
Back to #TBT. I absolutely loved my adoptive family. There was me, my Scottish father, Douglas and my Irish mother, Joan. Our house was fairly small but then my aFather, with the help of his friends, built an upstairs which added 4 extra bedrooms and one full bathroom. I remember my bedroom being downstairs at first but then I had to move upstairs. The reason for this was that my aParents wanted to foster and adopt more children. I remember having two other foster sisters with me at different times but then after my aMother was diagnosed with lung cancer, it was time to leave that dream of taking care of more children. And then it was just my father and me.
He did his very best to raise me. aMom did a great job too! Before she passed on, she made sure to enroll me in after school programs like the Brownies and Girl Guide clubs, piano lessons and even Irish dancing! I remember performing twice in front of my whole elementary school while Irish dancing.
I remember always having sleepover parties during the weekends. Those were so much fun. By Thursday at school, I would ask if any of the girls were interested in having a sleepover at my place. Around 4 to 6 girls were allowed and we had snacks, movies and a large futon and sleeping bags in the “kids” family room to chat and play in. My house had technically 2 family/TV rooms! These memories are making me really want to finish our basement so that once GG is older, he can also have fun sleepover parties. Oh, wait a minute, boys call them slumber parties. I remember a boy that was younger than me said that to me back in my high school days. I just nodded.
Well, that’s it for this Throwback Thursday. I hope you enjoyed learning a little about myself.
Do you have any fond childhood memories?