Thursday, March 20
And Happy Birthday to one of my favorite people.
Forty-four years ago, I was blessed with a baby sister. I already had a younger sister--2.5 years younger, but Wendy was born when I was eight. She was the true baby of the family.
My mom says that after Wendy was born, Debbie and I would come and ask, "What did we do before she was born?"
And I know I've thought that many, many times over the years.
In Junior High, Wendy was my shadow--always wanting to do what I was doing, go where I was going.
I told her that I hated outhouses--remember those bottomless pit ones?--because I thought the devil would come up and pinch my butt. Well, guess who refused to go to the outhouse unless she was escorted? And since it was my story that freaked her out, I had to take her--usually right in the middle of a softball game that I was watching. Softball was our summer.
In high school, when my friends were dating, and I wasn't, I'd take Wendy to the movies or to the newly built Clackamas Town Center for our favorite Square Pan Pizza.
When I got married and we rented an apartment, I made sure there was a second bedroom for Wendy. Mike was a Taco Bell manager at the time and worked long weekends, so Wendy stayed with me.
Now, we are adults with families of our own, but we still love the same things--Snoopy, anyone? Some of my favorite things have come via Wendy--Downton Abby, Dangerous Beauty, On The Island.
And even though we disagree on some major issues--religion and politics--we still have the best time together.
Happy birthday, my dear sister. I love you.