Small, poorly focused, black and white. The picture tells a story.
In childhood, as an adult, over generations past and present.
I noticed the difference quite early. In the photo shown, and so many others like it, my older sister towers over me, yet we are only 2 years apart.
A favorite aunt often told me “Nice things come in small packages. ”
It didn’t make me feel any better, but it was a thoughtful attempt.
My mother’s only sister, and my godmother, Aunt Mary came to me for a lifetime with words of kindness, reached me in a way that no one else could.
She suffered with polio in childhood, her own growth was stunted, her legs developed differently, resulting in a pronounced limp. Yet, she was still a bit taller than me.
When we walked as a family I always lagged behind, or worked a lot harder to keep up the pace.
There was an incident at a popular Farmer’s Market where I let go of someone’s hand, slipping unnoticed under a vendor’s counter. Panic ensued, “lost child” announcements came over a loudspeaker. It is one of my earliest memories, at age 2, about the timing of the photo shown.
I caught up in height a bit later in the adult years, but not by much. Family reunions, special occasions, formal wedding photos all reflect the same. The youngest siblings were all over 6 ft. tall, even my baby sister.
My children followed suit, so that my somewhat shorter legs still lag behind today.
In my spirit, I remain as tall. I just work harder, or ask them to slow down.