I was looking through my family photos this morning for something completely different (which is apparently not there) when I came across some Christmas photos from 1979. This particular shot is of me and my siblings — from left to right that’s Ray, Lorraine, me, and Diane. I was a senior in high school at this point, and Ray was a senior in college. Lorraine was in the working world having gone to a two-year college, and Diane was a few years out of UCONN at this point, working, I believe, at Southbury Training School, a facility for the handicapped.
I look at us here and I have to wonder, “What happened? How did we get to the point where we rarely talk?” We all got along very well starting around this time, and did so for the next decade or so before we began scattering to the winds — Diane to New York City and beyond, and me to NYC a couple of years after her.
I haven’t spoken on the phone with any of my siblings since the summer of 2010, during the troubles that arose over my mom’s estate. I thought things were getting somewhat better up until that point, but then it all went to hell.
Sometimes I think I should start trying to re-open those channels of communication, but then I reply to myself, “Why bother? It’s just going to get fucked up again.”
I envy Kim and her closeness with her family.
I’m realistic. I know the past can’t be regained; I wouldn’t want to do so. But I do miss them and wish we could get on at least a bit.