Each step of this reunion journey is like unwrapping another present.
Having talked with Chris, one of my half-brothers, by phone and on Facebook, I’ve arranged to have lunch with him; Pat, my first mother; and Chris’ wife, Jill; in a few weeks, when Basil, Catherine and I will be nearby for a college tour.
We are very excited to connect. I can already see that the sense of humor I cling to for sanity runs in the family, and I’m very glad of that.
As you might guess, I’m insanely curious about a whole ton of things, including who I look like.
Pat had sent a link to Chris’ wedding pictures. Looking at them Catherine declared, “Sorry to tell you this Mom, but you don’t look anything like him. Not at all.”
It would appear so — except maybe for the smile, a family trait that seems to have quite a bit of staying power.
Still, Pat said my first-day-of-school photo made her think of Chris, minus the blond-ish curls, natch.
Today I sent Jill a note, asking if she had any photos of Chris as a child. She sent this one:
It’s hard to get a real good look at his face, but those cheeks made me think a little of this photo of me, at age 2.