In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A Moment in Time.”
The last photo I took was actually of a photo of a photo of me. Did you follow that. It was last week. Thursday to be exact. I have a picture of me when I was 6 years old that I just love, I wanted to post it to my instagram account for #tbt and the quickest way to do that was simply to use my phone to take a picture of the picture.
I am the youngest in my family of 5, but I am the youngest by a lot, by the time I came around my siblings were 18 ( the twins) 14 ( my brother) and 11 ( my sister, who after an 11 year run as the baby and to give up her title – you would think she would be bitter, but no).
It was one of the twins that took me to K-Mart to have this pictures taken. She would have been about 24 at the time. She was home for the summer because both she and her womb mate were ( wait for it)….Showgirls in a skating show! I kid you not. Think Ice Capades and you will know what I mean. The show kept them away from home for pretty much the school year, when they came home in summer it was like having celebrities around.
On this day, my sister sat me on the bathroom counter and went to work with her CurlBaby curling iron to try and give my poker straight, baby fine blonde hair some shape. She fussed over me and I loved it. I loved that dress. I am wearing a pink dress in this picture but I had the same one in pale blue, apple green, and a sunny yellow. If I recall correctly she took me to K-Mart and had me photographed in each of the dresses. I figured people who saw us together would assume she was my mom and that was fine with me – having every other kid in the city jealous that they didn’t this hip cool beautiful mom. Too bad for them! Our own mom was closing in on 50 at this time – and when I look at photos it makes me think that 50 year olds looked a lot older in the 70’s than they do today. People often asked if she was my grandmother. I was well into adulthood before I learned about all the worries my mom carried with her back then.
I remember that day with such clarity. I can recall the way the red interior of her little white Chevy Vega smelled, and putting up with the heat. Leaving my window up so that my fragile curls wouldn’t get blown around. I remember how cool the air conditioning felt when we walked through the big doors into the store. In the portrait studio the photographer draped a big piece of honey beige carpet over the table that had a little block on it that I could sit on. I had to sit kind of facing sideways and clasp my hands in my lap. I remember thinking how is was a shame no one would see my pretty white sandals.
I used to compare myself to my sisters a lot. Very foolish really, because they were women while I was still a child. I had no memories of them as awkward teens, they were always cool and perfect to me. For most of my life I have hated having my picture taken, I often skipped school picture day, and I would always offer to take a picture to avoid being in one. On that they though, I felt like the prettiest girl in the world and for that reason this will always be my favorite photo.