Of Bears and Penguins

Sweet Stuff
My Dad asked my Mom to look for a picture of my brother taken on their vacation to South Dakota.

And so my Mom has been digging through picture envelopes and picture albums, which is usually a task that no one but me enjoys.

So I sat down with her and we looked at pictures.

Pictures of her and her chums in Johnston Hall goofing around and being generally college. Shots of the Hefflinger clan turned out in their Easter Sunday best.

Pictures of my Dad as a little kid with a bucket on his head and pictures of him catching a fish. Pictures of him playing twister. And oddly enough, a picture of him wearing a woman's robe -- yeah, I didn't ask questions.

Anyway, I realized a couple of things while my Mom and I were looking at pictures:
~ I come from a family a good-looking people, both sides. Everyone is just attractive, and considering that both of my parents have several siblings, that's fairly impressive.

~ My brother looks like a girl in most of his toddler pictures because our parents didn't want to cut off his red curls. Shoulder length red curls, folks. My brother was a pretty, pretty princess in purple striped pants.

I realized tonight as I saw pictures of me and various family members that from the time I was born I have been surrounded by people who have loved me greatly. Grandparents that were unbelivably patient and caring, and who took time to read to me, or take me to the zoo, or let me drive the truck. A brother that has always loved me, sitting through dance recitals and soccer games, and who drove across Houston from a New Year's Eve Party so that he could be with me at midnight to beat the pie pans.

Parents who did their best to see that I didn't want for anything. Who have taught me how to be generous and gracious. Who have taught me the meaning of a promise and the art of telling a story. Two people that laugh about better than anyone I know.

It's all in the pictures. I'm quite fortunate really. And I am thankful.