Legacy Writing 365:225

August 12 is the birthday of Mark G. Harris, who not only did the first Runway Monday with Tim and me, but was also a contributor to Fool For Love and once endured a hurricane and its aftermath with the residents and dogs of The Compound and RubinSmo Manor.

Monday is the birthday of Lynne’s late sister, our friend Liz. It’s always really hard for me to call her that, because when she was young, she got the nickname “Toota.” That and “Toota Bob” are all I ever called her, even when everyone else started calling her Liz.

I like dipping into Lynne’s old family photos because they remind me that even though our childhoods were in two different worlds and many miles apart, certain iconic scenes are repeated. Tom’s family photos are the same. Here are a few featuring my big-sister-by-choice.

Liz, Lynne, and their older siblings Amanda and Chap. Good looking kids!

I love this photo because I, too, had an older sister who wanted to be a cowboy and got a holster and guns one Christmas, like Liz who’s shooting the photographer. It looks like Lynne might be the one telling her who to shoot–always so bossy! Then in the middle is pretty Amanda, who’s reached that part of the teen years when you realize there might be memories you want to hold on to. I, too, had a scrapbook, but it was a hobby that had all but died by my adolescence (historians place the blame on photo albums) until it exploded into an industry again in the 1990s, this time for adult hobbyists. It’s still going strong.

All grown up now, and Liz looks distressed that I’m flinging myself at this dolphin at Six Flags.

Here, Jess is (barely) being held by his great-aunt Lil at the bar in Lynne’s parents’ kitchen with me, Liz, and Craig. I can’t remember having all that hair.

Aunt Toota with Jess. She endured a lot of health problems and was one of the most stoic people I ever knew. But feeling bad could make her moody and sometimes caused her to keep strangers and even people she loved at arm’s length. However, kids were always drawn to her because she had a way of making you feel safe, like everything was going to be okay. I know this because I was one of the first kids whose silly butt she had to haul all over the place and look out for. I miss her, and I know her family misses her, too.