The first time I saw her, she was about 48 hours old. She was nursing and my Mom held her as if she were the most precious thing in the universe. This little tiny bundle of dark hair and skin was a tremendous contrast with my mother’s pale freckles. I was 17 then… and she was my baby sister. She WAS the most precious thing in the universe (even if our brother wanted me to throw her out the window, and she was soooooo colicky she NEVER slept!)
I left home just 5 months after she was born… but she’s always been my god-daughter, my sister and, as she grew, my friend.
She turned 30 yesterday. But I remember her as the wee little she was when I left home. Despite the fact that she’s a momma of two beautiful littles of her own, I think part of her is STILL that little girl… and I’m thankful for that.
Happy Birthday, Kisseemeemee! I’m sorry you’re sick right now and hope you’ll soon feel like this again!
I’d really love to see your comments on the projects I do and the ideas I have. I learn more from critiques than praise, but, honestly, I adore praise (and who doesn’t?).
Thanks for stopping by.