
I know it's not my Grandma, who married in about 1927 or 1928, because I have a photo of her in her beautiful '20s bob hairstyle, without the Joe Kennedy round glasses...

It's hard to believe that this month he's been gone 17 whole years. I was 25 when he died, but in this picture I see his youth and strength, and my adoration for my papa.

His own father was quite absent, and in many ways his Mom was too. They worked hard to get through The Depression, and when that was over, Dad was headed out into the world himself.
Despite his cold parentage of the "Be seen and not heard" generation, my own father and mother chose to raise their kids in a much more loving environment. While my Mom was much better nurtured, she also had things to learn about how to be "real" in front of her kids when her own parents were not.
Both were prime examples of being better than their previous generations in their own way.
We can only hope to aim for the same goal as parents, yes?
Yes...

And amongst the memories is this last picture of me where a school picture turned out well.
The next year I was growing out my bangs, and I hairsprayed my bangs back in some sort of Farrah Fawcette wing job that didn't turn out well at all, and by the next year I was in the throes of adolescence, complete with glasses and a bad perm.

Me the toddler: gleeful.
The rest: homicidal.
'nuff said.

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