Lasting Gifts

I had never seen a photograph of my father as a child.  I had never seen a photo of his parents when they were young.  Until Christmas night.

My youngest brother had obtained some photos from one of our cousins and had printed them up as gifts for me and my sisters and other brother.

The photos are a very dear present.

One photo shows my grandparents in their early twenties nursing my uncle Mick (who I never knew) and my father, still a baby.  The photo was taken in Balmain at Morts Dock in 1922.

They are all dead now.

But I have received some lasting gifts.

Thanks Pop, for my love of cryptic crosswords.

Thanks Nanna, for my bullshit detector.

Thanks Dad, for my sense of social justice.

(And thanks, Mum, for my love of art).

Thank you all for giving me the strength to be true to myself.


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