Friday, February 13, 2009
Today It's All About The "Twins"...
My mom and dad, about the time they started working on their last two (of six) children. They were not deterred by the first four children, first a son, then a daughter, another son and another daughter.
They decided they wanted more... I'm not sure that they were ready for what they got, but they always swore that they loved us.
This, I'm sure, is what they wanted... All spiffy and hair combed and curled, me in a nice little dress, my baby brother in an age appropriate suit and a clean white shirt.
It was boy, girl, boy, girl until I came along to mess up the order of their lives on this day in 1945. They gave it (at least) one last shot, as it were, and on this same day in 1948 my baby brother was born.
Dad was ecstatic, he had 6 of the 8 children he wanted. There were 3 boys and 3 girls. Mom and the doctor said if he wanted 2 more to make it 8, he could have them. After all, mom was 36 when I was born and 39 when Bennett was born. Enough is enough, especially when the last 2 could think up and get into more orneriness than the first 4 put together.
All my sibs and I are tight. All in different ways. Baby brother and I have a special bond. The same birthday, twins, seperated by three years. I teased him for a long time that since he was born on my birthday, a Friday the Thirteenth, it took me years to decide it was good luck. But if you look close at the photos, you know what I know... It was great luck. For me, anyway, and I think he would agree.
My daddy said that when he came home and told me I had a baby brother for my birthday, he asked what I wanted for the next birthday... he swore that I told him twins.
I don't remember getting a baby brother for my birthday, after all, there was a mess of us kids already and I probably wasn't too impressed with another brother. I do remember, however, that I got my first pair of cowboy boots. Now THAT, to me, was impressive.
Now the first pair of boots has long ago bit the dust, but that bond with my brother, my twin three years removed, has done nothing but grow over the last 61 years.
So Happy Birthday Baby Brother, my 61 year old baby brother, from your 64 year old big sister. If we still had the boxing gloves we could go another round.
Oh, yeah... THIS is what mom and dad got... a bare-footed baby girl with fine, unruly hair and a dressed to the nines WITH a hat baby boy.
Aren't birthdays GREAT!!!