My sister, Debbie, took all our photo albums and combined them into six comprehensive albums that track our family’s history from around the time our parents got married to around the first wedding. Actually, I’m not really sure where the sixth stops, because Debbie has only completed the first three, but she told me that there will be six. As the eleventh child, I haven’t been born in the first three albums. It’s important to note that my Mom had broken down all her albums and gave each of the 12 kids and her and dad a selection of photos. She never could have imagined what modern technology could do with a photo album, so she did the next best thing by putting together 13 sets, where everyone got some of the photos. Debbie had to collect them back to put together the best pictures. 

Since Monday marks 20 years since we lost my Mom to leukemia, I thought maybe this week I could revisit the family history that created the troublesome twelve. It starts with a love story that began a couple years before the wedding photo at the top of the page. My Mom is beautiful. My handsome dad looks like he just won the lotto! It’s like he stole the prize while nobody was paying attention. 

These next two pictures are from just after and just before the wedding, just a couple young kids excited about the future. Mom actually knew what the future held because she always said she wanted twelve kids. I asked Dad once why he married Mom if he wasn’t sure he wanted that many kids. He answered, “I didn’t think people actually had twelve kids. Who has twelve kids?”  Well, Dad, you were about to find out who has twelve kids. 

I love this picture because I think poor Dad just realized what he was in for. Here is sweet Debbie, the first born. Mom and Dad were just married one year when she came onto the scene. In their love story, I see that Dad carried the stress of the kids. Mom carried the burden of caring for us, but Dad carried all the “what-ifs.” What if something happened to him? What if something happened to Mom? What if he lost his job? When I look at Dad’s face in all the upcoming photos, that’s what I see. He shouldered that burden through raising a large family. At some point, he even realized that he was actually that guy that was going to have twelve kids. Perhaps he didn’t quite realize it while holding little Debbie, but he realized some semblance of the future in store for him, and maybe, just maybe, this young guy was a little afraid. Mom looks like she knows that this is just the beginning. 

Dad looks a little resigned to fate here as Jeannie arrives on the scene. Mom looks radiant. I am always amazed by Mom and her resilience. There is only one photo where I can see the exhaustion on her face. 

This picture , circa 1959, adds John into the picture. Apparently, there are no family photos with John as an infant. Certainly, at this point, Mom is at least pregnant with Tom. Or maybe Tom is already born and napping when this photo is snapped. John is most certainly in a body cast from the waist down for his hip dysplasia, which explains why his legs are at an unnatural angle. The dawning of realization is starting to show on Dad’s face. 

And then there were four. Tom, a self-declared only child, has burst onto the scene. This is the one photo through the years where Mom looks exhausted. Dad is actually smiling a little. Perhaps there is acceptance at this point. 

Fast forward a couple months, and Mom is back to her old self. Who knows, maybe Teresa is on the way in this photo. Here Debbie is three, Jeannie is two, John is one, and Tom is a few months. Dad is a mere 27, and Mom 24. This picture was from around Christmas 1959.

This is the end of the first photo album. I’ve been a little nostalgic with the 20th anniversary of Mom’s death looming this week. Mom’s younger brother, Gerard, is battling leukemia himself right now, so keep him and his whole clan in your prayers if you have a moment. I am overwhelmed that we lost Mom that long ago. Really, for my kids, it’s a lifetime ago. These albums, a labor of love from Debbie, are a gift to my family. We have always talked about Mom, but here she is on the page as a young woman undertaking her legacy, dragging Dad along. Showing resolve and commitment, theirs is a true love story that we can all aspire to. Around 1972, when Phil was born, Dad got his answer to, “Who has twelve kids?” To his credit, he never wavered, even when he realized that he was that guy. Surely, at six, or seven, or ten kids, he knew his answer and accepted it with grace and strength, and just a little stress. With time, we all get the chance to reflect on the gifts that the people in our lives pass along. I miss Mom everyday, but now I cry a little less for her loss and celebrate a little more that I got to know and love her. I find joy in the things in my own personality that remind me of her. Perhaps we can delve into that more another time.

Have a great week everyone.