And this one makes my heart hurt a little. Me and my not-so-baby sister exactly 10 years ago.
Editor’s note: handkerchiefs were big in my world. And that top was backless, save for 2 spaghetti straps. I am so, so sorry, Dad & Shelley. Forgive me.
Nineteen years ago today my dad married Shelley. I don’t have any photos of them together on that day — but perhaps it’s fitting I post one of her and me. I may not have taken vows or signed a certificate, I may not have even been in the double-digits yet, but it was as important a day for me as it was for them: it was the day we became a family.
If my nerves were any indication — I stood by my dad’s side during the ceremony, biting my nails to the quick — I understood that they were doing this in part for me, that Shelley was making a lifelong commitment not only to my dad, and that I would bear responsibility for the success of their partnership and our family.
It wasn’t always easy — it took me a few years before I was comfortable with Shelley adopting me — but that day marked the beginning of the greatest commitment I’ve made in my life to date.
I’ve said it before but it bears repeating: I learned all I know about love from them. I thank them for that lesson every day I wake and see this wonderful, complicated person whose life I share. I thank them every time I speak or see or think of my beautiful Gena, the product of their love, the missing piece.
Thank you! And congratulations.
Gena, looking fabulous, after the horrendous uphill walk to Alamo Square.
One and only sister = automatic reblogification.
Ain’t modern living grand? Renee called to say she and Gena are on the steps of SF City Hall awaiting the same-sex marriage announcement, right now!, and I found a live stream, and I peered, and I squinted, and I asked them to jump, and they did! They jumped! And I saw them jumping!
gettin crunkkkk!!!
My sister’s Facebook comment on this photo of Dad. I died.
This is why everyone needs a teenager in their life.
I had a great time in Preston, MN with my fabulous cousins Gena and Nora!
These two. THESE TWO. God I love ‘em.
My sister went to prom this weekend and looked absolutely gorgeous, as usual. And while this milestone may make some big sisters feel old, not me! No sir. When we hang out people think we’re the same age so I am clearly not aging. Clearly.
The weird thing is that when I was ELEVEN YEARS OLD and pushing her around in a stroller, old ladies would ask me if she was mine. Um.
The only conclusion to be drawn is that I stopped aging sometime in the mid-90s. Let’s just thank LBJ I’m not still wearing those shorts.
Gena and I made our first-ever cheesecake with ricotta from Mike’s Deli and a Mark Bittman recipe (scroll down for the ricotta variation). It was flavored with orange zest and vanilla and had a sour cream topping.
I’m the first to criticize my own cooking so believe me when I say this was the best homemade cheesecake I’ve ever had. Light, fluffy, fragrant, and not-too-sweet. And — shh, don’t tell — absurdly easy. Not the most photogenic thing I’ve ever made but who cares?
… and took lots of pictures here, there, and everywhere.
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