While in Austin, I made it a priority to visit my Aunt & Uncle who helped raise me. I lived in this house with them when I was 5 and again when I was 8. I once read something that said "family is not who you are born to but who understands you' or something like that. My Aunt & Uncle would fall into that category; they understand me because they understand the history that shaped who I am.
My Aunt is like a second mom; she bought me clothes, cooked dinner, took care of me when I was throwing up spaghetti in her upstairs bedroom. To this day, I'll use my left foot to brake while driving because I always wanted to mimic her when I drove. My cousin, also pictured, was an equally integral part of my history because she became a big sister to me at a time that I needed one.
My Uncle pictured here was always a steady and consistent presence. I love hearing him talk, I'm not sure why but the sound of his smooth voice is just comforting to me.
Something I really valued at their house while growing up was a portrait of my Aunt and all her siblings which hung in the living room. Perhaps my affinity for the 1950's era stems from the countless time I would spend looking at this portrait! Here we are looking at the picture on the kitchen table while I was grilling my Aunt on who was who and how old they were at the time (1955).
Bottom Row: Eddie (12), Gary (10) [my dad], Myra (8).
These are all my Aunt's and I lived with almost all of them at one point or another while growing up!
Visiting my Aunt and Uncle was great but they were very quick to remind me that the last time they saw me was 11 years ago when Greg and I got married - Ouch!! I really need to do a better job at staying in touch....