Deep down I've always been envious of those who have brothers and sisters. My mother had six brothers and five sisters. Everybody seems to have siblings. Some of these relationships are made of pure gold while others are tarnished and have a lot of destructive rust.
Well, I found a picture of my two-half- brothers and my half sisters taken when they were young kids. They were born and raised in New England and New York back in the late twenties. I never met them, but I knew of their existence.
As I got older, I grew in the realization that they were blood siblings in that we shared the same father. Hence, they are my brothers and sisters. The power of those words came home to me when my nephew who found me through the web talked about my sister. I could feel the tears welling up in the sides of my eyes. "I have a sister!"
I hope that someday my grandkids see this picture and see how complex and multi-layered life can get. As I get closer to turning 72, I've learned the importance of being familiar with at least the top layers. It really helps in getting to know who you are and who you came from and who you are related to.
Old family pictures are invaluable.