Kerry Wright
1950
Yes, Mr DeMille, I am ready for my close-up!
My first, formal, studio portrait. Mum would have knitted the little ensemble I'm wearing, including the tiny baby booties with the satin ribbons. And I suspect the large kiss-curl atop my head is also, very probably, my dear mother's handiwork.
My mother, Emily Flora Wright (known as Flora) nee Glover, was 38 when I was born in November 1949, and my father, Ray Wright, was 41. Because of the significant age difference between my three older brothers and me, I virtually grew-up as an only child.
We lived in a funny little house, not far from South Narrabeen beach on Sydney's Northern Beaches. I slept on a partially open verandah, the seaward, east-end of which was open to the elements. I was lulled to sleep each night by the sound of the waves breaking on the nearby beach.
I once asked my mother, as children sometimes do, because of the age difference between my brothers and me, if my birth had been planned, or was it a "mistake". At that time, Mum assured me that I had been planned and wanted. Certainly, no parents could have ever loved or cherished their child any more than my parents loved and cherished me. Though Mum could be a strict disciplinarian, she was always fair and just. And Dad was a sweet, gentle man, who never once raised his voice to me, let alone his hand. I never doubted their unconditional love for me, which I returned in abundance.









