So many things we acquire from family, some good and some not so good, some through nurture and others through nature. However, there are some legacies best left unclaimed.

In my paternal family lineage there is a dark cloud that seems to linger over the family members like a curse that was placed there years ago and has never been lifted. Out of five siblings, three girls and two boys, all of the girls succumbed to suicide, two by deliberate means and one who, after many weak attempts, just gave up and committed psychological suicide; she literally died of a broken heart.

Each of these women possessed great physical beauty in their youth and had such warm, funny and brilliant spirits when not gripped by the 'dark cloud' of depression. Humor was the saving grace for them most of the time. However, when tragedy hit, it hit hard. Loss of a husband and a child was overwhelming for my Aunt Dottie. Life ceased to be worth living for her many years before she decided to just check out emotionally.

The oldest of the five was my Aunt Virginia - Aunt Gin, Gin and she took her own life after losing her oldest daughter to cancer. Barbara was her anchor and light of her life. She just did not find living an option with such a void in her life.

Finally, the youngest of the five, Aunt Anita, took her life after years of being incorrectly treated for a thyroid condition. The medicines taken caused severe depression and no one realized just how bad it was for her until it was too late.

The family was one that was forged during the Great Depression, so stability in the face of such bleak times was not always an option. To survive, the children were sometimes farmed out to orphanages for a time until they could be reunited again. Hunger and despair were the only constants in their lives.

Despite it all they were close as siblings and always tried to look out for one another. The brothers, my uncle Harry and my dad, were the early bread winners in the family and the caretakers of their sisters.

From as far back as I can remember these five people meant the world to me. I remember as if it were yesterday the gatherings we would have and the stories that would be told. They had survived so much in their lives and they chose to balance out the many traumas with humor; the most excellent storytellers ever.

I have often pondered what life would have been like for all of them if they had been born at a different place and time. Would there have still been this morose curse plaguing them?

Each of them possessed artistic talent, ranging from accomplished artists to poets, musicians and extremely adept storytellers, a wealth of organic talent all in one family.

T.S. Eliot said "anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity". I believe this was very true where my dad's family was concerned. They all had the artist's sensitivity; they were extremely bright and creative people and electrifyingly connected to life.

It has left me to ponder for decades the source of this legacy of depression that seemed to be passed down from one generation to the next. Was it the result of nurture or nature? Was there some genetic code being passed from mother to child that triggered this sea of despair. Most importantly, would it be transferred to me?

Most assuredly, having parents that came from such hard times and basically never had childhoods to speak of, some of their sadness and sense of despair did seep into my psyche, so many of their dreams, if they dared to have any, would never come to pass. You can't give a child something you don't possess, which in their case was a sense of self-assurance and security in oneself. They lacked both of these traits.

What they did give to me through example was a deep sense of personal integrity, a strong work ethic and the ability to draw from a deep well of inner strength to weather difficult times. They definitely knew how to persevere in the face of sometimes overwhelming odds. Their lives rolled 'snake eyes' more than 'easy eights', but they never quit.

I do not believe there was ever a family curse, just a series of horrible circumstances that at some point became insurmountable. These lovely women had tragic lives and they stayed with it as long as they could. Then one day hope did not appear, even in a small way, and they just quietly took their leave.

My memories of them are ones of love and laughter. I can still see their shining faces today and I love them as dearly now as I did then. I try always to keep their legacy of love and laughter very close to my heart. That is the legacy I claim and no other.

So, in this season of reflection and hopeful promise of a New Year, I am compelled to remember three wonderful angels that were and always will remain very special in my life.