One day Grandma Bertie came to stay with me and my brother while Mom was at the hospital. It was a Monday.
Tuesday morning, Bertie was cooking us breakfast. Having installed a wider sink in the counter the year before, Dad had removed the guts of one of the drawers and nailed it back on the front of the cabinet to accommodate the sink's wider proportions. Bertie asked Dad where she'd find a spatula, and he rather absently pulled open a drawer or two, and then handily pulled the false front plumb off the cabinet, to peals of giggles from me and big brother. He stared at it for a second, then broke into his usual mega-watt smile as Bertie dissolved into paroxyms of knee-slapping laughter. Bertie and I laughed over that many times over the years. It was a great memory of a moment alive with possiblity and wonderful prospect. I suppose Dad was a little distracted, just then. That was a strange day, waiting for Mom and the baby bundle to come home.
When we'd go to the store, people would coo at the pretty, perfect little baby in the carrier in the shopping basket. More than one person asked if she was a doll. Her own babies have been a glorious reminder of how pretty she was. I'm not biased at all-- she really was that pretty and still is.
Mom was adamant that there not be pets in the house. Fine, Blowfuzzy said-- she'd get her own pet. She began carrying a dead housefly around in a shoebox, calling it Fred. (yep-- we're related.) Fred went to church with Blowfuzzy and on family roadtrips and the like. Blowfuzzy talked to Fred. Mom finally caved in and Blowfuzzy got a puppy. No one pushes Mom's buttons like Blowfuzzy. Then again, Blowfuzzy pushes everyone's buttons.
Wow. Has it really been 35 years since you were born?
I wished and I wished. When I was a little girl, I thought having a little sister would be the best thing ever, would make life so much better.
I was right. I love you, Sis. Have a happy birthday. :)