Every Picture...

...tell's a story, don't it? Pictured, clockwise from top right; my grandmother, Edith Harvey; my great-aunt Florence (Floss); my - as it turned out, Aunt Kit (Catherine); and my great-aunt Rose. Aunt Kit was always my great-aunt Kit when I was a kid: my dad's aunt, so he was led to believe. But at the death of my grandmother, the truth came out, and my dad suddenly had a second (half) sister. A pre-marriage fling had led to my grandmother becoming pregnant with Kit, and as was the thing at the time, the family concocted an elaborate ruse to hide the whole thing.

Apparently, my great-grandmother packed my grandmother off to relatives for the duration of the pregnancy and proceeded to feign said pregnancy herself, until the birth; at which point the child was raised as hers within the family; my dad only discovering the truth at the age of thirty-two. The more one digs into one's family history, the more interesting it gets. BTW, the young aunt Rose is a dead ringer for my niece, Helen...