Living on love, we got by

Old pictures tell a story.

Last week, I posted some old photos of me and my three siblings. I’ve looked through many more and have jarred a few memories.

I grew up in a two-bedroom ranch-style house my dad built in the late 1960s. A year or so after my sister was born in 1972, he built an addition that became the bedroom I shared with my two brothers until I left for college in 1985.

By today’s standards, even with the addition, it was a small house. It had been built in an old hog lot, which for many years, Mom worked to turn it into a yard. After 50-plus years, the trees she and Dad planted and watered provide the shade they never got to enjoy. It did not have central air. On summer evenings, we all sat outside until it was time to go to sleep. We’d laugh and talk while we husked sweet corn or snapped green beans.

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