Titirangi Storyteller

Telling tales from around the world

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Some memories grow sweeter, some sadder, some softer or sentimental.

Some just get stranger.

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Written by Titirangi Storyteller

19/06/2011 at 1:49 am

Posted in Writing

Tagged with , , , ,

9 Responses

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  1. No matter the environment, when it’s time to go, it’s time to go!

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    souldipper

    19/06/2011 at 5:03 pm

    • By the time I left all the animals were already gone. It all ended so quickly. My brother moved into town and was still going to school. I went to Uni. My next eldest sister went to live with friends, leaving my little sister at home, and she went into foster care because Ma didn’t know how to manage her. It was so very strange – like an unseen curtain fell on an era without us even noticing… One of the short stories that I’ve put up here called The Urine Sky is set right around the time the curtain fell, our last winter together, which I believe was the one after the one in this photo.

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  2. I love this picture. Yes, it was time to go — and not the first time for our family. This was the end of the second act, the one that started in December 1965 when Mom kidnapped us from the orphanage two years after she lost custody of us. Mom was not stable enough to continue to take care of us once again. Sad. She did love us. Sometimes love just isn’t enough.

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    Monica McLaughlin

    20/06/2011 at 1:13 am

    • It looks postcard perfect, or Christmas card perfect. She had a pretty good run there, from 66-72…
      I’ve got to find some photos of us standing in front of cactus… I think I could have a bit of fun with them…

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  3. What a bittersweet photograph. The good before the bad, or the respite before the end.

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    poietes

    28/06/2011 at 1:18 pm

    • I think of it more as a roller-coaster ride that still hasn’t ended, though I’ve taken some control of the ‘controls,’ and my mother is no longer in the equation. I miss her, but had this way of making everything much harder than it had to be…

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  4. […] this photo came from a blast from the past that zoomed my way this week – from back in the Dorloo days. Her family lived down the road from mine. She also grew up to be a photographer and artist […]

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  5. […] on the other hand, thrived. He took to life in our mad household in Dorloo as if it were his natural environment. The entire house was his playground and the other occupants […]

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  6. […] a time. And no pet birds other than Ducktor the Duck. (For the complete rundown on the family pets, please go here.) I must say though – I was always fascinated by migrating flocks – coming or going […]

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