More snapshots

Looking through a pile of old photographs hidden away then unpacked when we moved house – gives me comfort, strangely. They are pictures from my childhood and before my birth, of my parents, sisters, grandmother, cousins and aunts, of my nieces and nephews and their spouses and children. The photos remind me of a loving upbringing, albeit a little unconventional and troubled at times. But I saw no real hardship or suffering, just internal struggles, the kind that many people had and still have, but learn to deal with in various ways. My mother was very discontented, my father distant. They made a strange pair but muddled along somehow with the three of us daughters caught in the crossfire, Margaret, the eldest, coming off worst. Sophie, the middle one, a happy and contented soul, and me, the youngest, forever searching and striving for a life of happiness and contentment. Perhaps I have found it at last.