A snapshot from 1986: Meet the members of our family:

First, my full sister Lisa, since I grew up wih her: We look an awful lot alike. We both have dark eyes and dark hair, though mine fades to red in the sun (it was red as a child) and hers is vivacious and curly, sort of like her. We've been mistaken for twins before, and for one another at times. This annoys us both. Since early childhood, she has been the favorite, the cute, perky, cheerful one. When I feel jealous, I tell myself that she's overly cutesy and has a simplistic, fairly narrow-minded view of life in general. Our closeness has been marred by years of sibling rivalry and mutual longing for attention and affection, a limited commodity in our world, and she always seems to win, despite just being herself. Being lovable comes naturally to her. Although I have spent a lot of time in her shadow, envying her, I wouldn't want to be be her for all the tea in China, so I don't even try. If people can't like me for myself, I don't want them...but it always hurts, just the same.

She thinks I'm entirely too eccentric, off the wall, and too indifferent to cosmetic appearances and the newest styles in clothing. I am down to earth, zany, creative and fairly fearless about it. We're about as different as two full sisters could be: me, earthy and outdoorsy, always climbing trees, finding an animals to play with, or running down a hiking trail or building a fort; her, domestic, sedentary, playing with dolls, organizing her barrettes and hair ties, baking cookies (always from a recipe), brushing her hair or washing her face. It's sort of amazing that we share the same DNA, the same upbringing- a slap in the face of both the nature and the nurture schools of thought.

When my mother walked out the door, my mom climbed into a car with her Greek boyfriend as we watched from the window of our apartment, alone, crying until our father came home and found us there. She married the Greek man and they had two children, my half brother and sister:

Michael: Of all my siblings, Mike is the most like me, outdoorsy and active. He's little for his age, as we all are, due to the Filipino blood and for him, the Greek blood, too. He has olive colored skin, shining dark eyes, and glossy black hair. For his size, he's very macho and gutsy, very tough and surprisingly strong. He's quiet and serious. We got along well together most of the time. When we didn't, it was because he called me a stupid girl, as though I were of those girly girls like my sisters. Compact and somewhat explosive, out interactions have tended to be volatile at times, but still...aside from Lisa I am closest to him.

Gia: Youngest of the bunch (I am the eldest), she has the same olive skin as her brother. Her dark eyes are heavy-lidded and she is fairly calm and even tempered in nature. She has thick, rambunctiously curly back hair. She is easy going and rarely ever confronts anyone or outright causes trouble. Oh, she has a sassy mouth, but the things she says are always followed so quickly by her slow and gentle smile that it's easy to forget them.

Mom: Our mother is half Filipino, and the exotic blood permeates her features. She has her American father's strong rectangular jaw and chin, but it is offset by large, dark soulful eyes, high cheekbones and olive skin. Her hair is glossy and black. The early pictures of her, the ones we grew up looking at and wondering over for so many years, showed a shy, trusting, demure girl, with long straight hair. She looked so sweet, so beautiful. With time, she has grown more determined than demure. She is still the charming hostess and the Asian blood is kind to the women in our family as we age, but the harsh experiences of life have left her wary and a bit paranoid, and the superstitions she was raised with have only fallen away to give birth to others which are no less odd. She is enigmatic and difficult to understand, yet loving and affectionate, both generous in heart and critical in tongue. As with all of us, the hot blood comes out in her temper, which can be fairly frightening and then she is wildly irrational and unpredictable. I do not say that she is a bad person, but many of the choices she has made have been absolutely disastrous. To this day, we are never quite sure what to expect when we hear from her. One thing will be certain: it is never routine.

After my mom left the Greek guy (who was abusive), she met up with my stepdad:

Dennis is a big man. He's big boned and overweight, with a potbelly. Usually people who are big like he is are sort of awkward and seem slightly embarrassed by it, but not him! For a large man, he carries himself with surprising dignity and grace. His black hair is graying, and he has piercing black eyes that glint alertly. An ex-cop, he retains the "don't even think about messing with me" attitude. He's very sociable and outgoing, and has the ability to converse with almost anyone he meets. He's directly descended from Russian royalty as well as Napoleon Bonaparte...at least that's what he claims. My mother's family lineage also contains royalty (though less directly and not as impressive or well known), but we don't wear the prestige of it stamped all over our persons as he does. As far as he's concerned, he should be a king- it is his right! Instead, he dominates whatever else is within his domain.