1964

My mom, my sister, Teresa, and me, about 1964. 

A passport photo as we got ready to move to Japan.

My guess is that who we are, who we are going to be is set pretty much on a straight path when we are very young. Some of who we are is born into us, a mix of genes and the divine. Some is mom and dad. Some is where we are. 

I think, it's the love, mostly that makes us who we are. Enough love from those early days will stand in you in good stead for a lifetime. It makes you cry when you know what you're missing, when it's gone. It bucks you up, knowing where you came from and that you were loved. 

Those of us who don't have that love early, spend a lifetime searching for it. That's my guess. 

Some find it. Thank God. Some, I am here to say from personal witness, do not.

If there is anything I know -- on the dark days when I don't know nearly enough to get by -- is that I was loved from the time I was born. My mom. My daddy. My brother. My sister. They all adored me. My sister died when she was 7. I was 3. She talked about me constantly. Even when she sickest.

I'd say that powerful knowledge can still carry from across those years separating 1964 from now.

I'd say, I'll never forget.