My parents left for Spain as scheduled, eager to visit my Dad’s ancestral country. It was their first trip abroad. But both my Mom and Dad were anxious about leaving me, the youngest of their four kids, in the hands of my three teenage siblings.

I was thirteen. My brother, Matt, was nineteen. My eldest sister, Meg was 17, and Juli was 15.

My family, circa 1967: Matthew, Meg, Mom (Wilma), Juli, Dad (Orlando), and me.

The three had promised my parents to look out for me, the problem child with Anorexia.