I have not yet mapped out exactly what part of my life has the most engaging stories, to build a memoir, but a sensible practice is looking back at some photos.
The portrait, above, was taken in the early Seventies. I think my family bought a special package at a Studio, as I remember several visits between 1971 and 1976. The sweater and beret were crocheted by my Great-grandmother. Eventhough the photo is blank and white, I recall distinctly the ice-cream pastels of cream, mocha, pink and blue the sweater was banded with, and that my light little dress, whose lacy collar shows, was a sherbert orange and white. And those slightly cat-eyed glasses? A tortoise shell pattern of amber and dark blue. Maybe for the best that this is in classic black and white?
I might have been wearing braces on my legs -- something like what you see young Forrest Gump wearing, although mine only came to below the knee, otherwise, at my size, I doubt that I could have hefted the extra weight. That pivotal scene of fantasy in Zumekis' when Forrrest first runs and his speed is attributed to the carrying of that extra weight, I felt the truth in that. Eventhough I rarely remember wearing leg braces in pre-school, I do know that feeling of freedom when not wearing any.