Baby sister came home from the hospital in a stocking. She was our holiday baby. That was 1977. I was three years old. We nearly lost mom--her stay at the hospital was longer than expected. Thankfully, baby sister was perfect! I remember the first time I saw her...She was the first baby I remember seeing. Her hair was dark and curly, her skin beautiful. I remember the first time I kissed the top of her forehead. From that moment, I was her protector- I was the big sister and she was my only baby sister.
My first memories of her are of those in our little pink bedroom. The one the three of us girls shared. She would bang on her crib in her pink footie pajamas until Wendy and I would give in and let her come sleep with us. It was a double bed- we three snuggled together. That was 2nd East in our little red brick house.
My first memories of her are of those in our little pink bedroom. The one the three of us girls shared. She would bang on her crib in her pink footie pajamas until Wendy and I would give in and let her come sleep with us. It was a double bed- we three snuggled together. That was 2nd East in our little red brick house.
At the very hardest times of my life, she has hung in there with me even when I made it very clear she was not wanted. She was my life preserver. After each of my babies were born, she would drop in at bed time and help get my "littles" to bed with a bedtime story. After Rigby's stroke, she would listen to me and give me courage- she was my strength.
As a kid, she loved dogs- I didn't it. She would always walk closest to them to ease my fear. I gave her bloody noses, gave her fashion advice, argued with her, loved her -and simply adored her. 
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