I was reading Lizzee's post about being 61 and I couldn't help but think about the fact that I'm 5 years older than my "little" sister. Thinking back about when she was born, I remember that we were living in Vallejo, California, in some old Navy quarters. Because I was 5, I didn't pay a lot of attention to the new arrival, I was too busy with my own really cool things, mostly going to kindergarten and learning to read. My teacher realized that I was ready, and let me stay in from recess (I didn't like it much anyway) and practice my reading. We had moved down from Boise, Idaho and it was so much nicer in California; almost no SNOW! You could play outside most of the year, and I remember that I did. I wasn't really aware that there were babies in the family until Edward came along two years later. We had moved onto the base at Hamilton Field and with two younger siblings, they were more obvious; especially when Ed started to try to walk and used Betsy's (that's what we called her then) doll buggy as a crutch. Betsy didn't like it, and would push him down. He'd wail, Mom would come running, and there would be commotion for a little while. I was taking accordion lessons and trying to practice and it all just added to the noise level.
So don't feel bad, Liz... it isn't too tough. I'm a lot closer to 70 than you are, and I don't HAVE any grandkids to spoil. Dang it. Well, I can hope.
This could be the start of something great!
10 years ago