The pictures from France did it. Before viewing them, really seeing them, for the first time, I’d thought I understood. I’d thought I understood my parents and their relationship. Their story. Their truth. But, I didn’t. Not by a long shot. Not until my brother, Donny, had the family slides made into a CD and I viewed them, wallowed in them, for hours, on my laptop, in bed, did I realize that there was something I’d missed. The photos stunned me.