Three flower photoart pieces, today. While the temperature was higher, so were the wind speeds.
Today I am remembering my sister Bryce, who died a year ago today. She was a visual artist, as well as a vocal soloist, instrumentalist and member of the 188th Army Band here in Fargo. After graduating with a degree in Child Development, she joined the Army National Guard, where she worked for almost 20 years. As my parents continue downsizing and passing along mementos, I have received are a black-and-white and several colored-pencil drawings that she had given to my parents as holiday and birthday presents.
I also edited a poetry/short story chapbook for Bryce during the 80s, which proof copy I gave to Bryce’s son after her death, after scanning the pages to files, so I can someday reproduce it. Nice stuff. There were seven of us until the end of September 2014. Now we are six. She was twelve years younger than me. None of us were close. Scattered, mostly, as we left for college or life’s work. As the acrimony increased at home and our numbers grew, we children did not maintain family ties as adults.
Too young to recognize what was going on, old enough to have a sense of self-preservation, and not smart enough to see that we could/should have established and maintained ties and open communication among the seven of us, independent of the family home.
I owe all of me that is good to the early presence of parental support and encouragement and the literary/artistic environment I grew up in, and I took that with me when I left. That’s been worth a lot.