Everyone has moments in their past that stand out as sharp memories. Here's one of mine. I don't know why this memory is particularly vivid. It was an ordinary, normal situation. Our family was heading out on a Sunday afternoon—as we often did—to visit another Lithuanian family. I remember, however, standing for this photograph and thinking that my Mom's dress was so beautiful. Perhaps it was a new dress, or perhaps it was one that she had just finished sewing.
Suburban Chicago, June 1963. It looks like I'm talking, as usual. I hated it when my Mom brushed my hair to the side like that.
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