When I was home last month visiting my mom and the rest of my family, I went through a bunch of old photographs and came across this one of my four brothers and me.
I’m the oldest of the five of us. In this photo, I’m guessing I was about 20. (The haircut is the giveaway—and so is the skirt.) My youngest brother, Zane, the little guy in the photo, was probably about six. He’s fourteen years younger than I am. My other three brothers are each just two years apart from me.
And then there’s that skirt: dark blue, with little flowers and lace between each tier. It had three tiers, I remember it so well!
That skirt was a favorite of mine and my cousin Shelley’s when we were roommates. We shared it so much that we gave it a name: “the dog.” It was our old faithful standby—the favorite that was always there, always ready to be worn, and somehow part of our everyday life.
So our conversations would go something like, “Are you wearing the dog today?” or “Are you wearing the dog to the dance?” or simply, “I’m wearing the dog today.”
It made perfect sense to us.
Looking at this old photograph now, I love all of it—the haircut, the skirt, my four younger brothers, and the memories tucked away in between. Funny how one old photograph can bring an entire chapter of your life right back.
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