The Circle Closes

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Today is July 18th. I was born 63 years ago today the first child in a family of what would be 11 children. Eighteen years later my little sister was born as what was to be the last of 11 children. The numbers are inexplicable but clear. We were born 18 years apart, on July the 18th, I in 1946 my sister in 1964. The last two digits of the years reversed themselves and, as I said, the circle was closed.

It was 1964. I was a senior in high school. I remember the summer she was born and I a snotty teenager recent high school graduate. My mother went into early labor and my dad took her to the hospital. When my mother returned a few hours later, I was derisive. Why did she bother to go. We all knew when the baby would be born. She would be born on July 18. My Birthday. The only thing left in the house that was mine. And I sulked.

And surely enough, my sister was born on July the 18th. I named her and I loved her as dearly as if she were mine. I taught her to read by gluing noun words on matching objects. DOG, REFRIGERATOR, GLASS, BOOK. What the heck is this, my dad asked after work. Everything in the living room and kitchen had nouns glued to their objects. We placed duplicates of the words on the fridge and eventually added verbs (once my sister could identify the words no matter how I had them arranged). Eventually the dog ran, Mom sat in a chair, the father reads a news paper.

I took my sister along to college for a day when I was in my junior year at Temple University. She fell asleep and my prof laughed at me when I apologized. I took her to the ocean where a ball got caught up in the waves and danced out to sea. I waved good-bye to her as I drove off with friends to graduate school. When I became a prof at the university here, she was an undergraduate. She lived with us part time and her graduation party was at our home with Mom and Dad flying out for the events. She is my first son’s godmother.

If, as a child, I witnessed all the children in my family come into the world, she witnessed us all leave home. One at a time. And she witnessed my parents move into advanced age.

We celebrate our birthdays together whenever we can – France, Italy, Martha’s Vineyard, Las Vegas and this year, my home. She and my husband arranged a surprise birthday for me on my birthday. And when she left, she said in 5 years she will fifty. It will be her birthday and we must circle the day in advance. She gets to choose what to do.

She just posted her arrival home where she is busy starting her own business. When I was her age I still had Mom and Dad.

And if she did, if they were still here, they would have been very proud of her. As proud as I am. As we are.

Happy Birthday, Baby.