Sunday, January 25, 2009
Here are the birthday kids...
Faye (almost 28) and Daniel (almost 31) were born on the same day, three years apart. WAAAAAY back in 1978, when Daniel was born, Connecticut had a horrible blizzard. Really bad. So bad, the Governor closed all the roads to everything but emergency vehicles. OF COURSE I went into labor. My father in law was chief of OB-GYN at Hartford Hospital and he made it there through all the snow just in time to deliver his first grandchild, who, I might add, peed all over him. That was Feb. 2, Ground Hog's Day. (Which was so odd and bizarre and made for wonderful jokes because we had a hog farm!)
Fast forward three years, and I had a BIG birthday party planned for Daniel with about 24 people expected, when I went into labor again. My mom came over to watch Daniel, I went to the hospital about midnight and Faye was born in the wee hours of the morning, also on Feb. 2. I let them weigh her, do the Apgar and then I brought her home.
By then, little Daniel was sitting at the table having breakfast with my mom.
"Where did you go?'' he asked.
"To get your birthday present,'' I told him.
"Sit down here and I'll give it to you,'' I said, and he sat down on the rug in front of the kitchen sink.
And I handed him his little sister.
To him, it was the best gift - there was never a moment's jealousy, after all, SHE was HIS. When everyone came that night for the birthday party, we didn't tell anyone she had been born (it was less than 18 hours earlier and believe me, I still had that big belly and my loose clothes made for a good disguise and my mother had promised not to breathe a word.) Shortly after the party began, Daniel announced he wanted everyone to see what he got for his birthday. Again, he sat down on the rug in front of the kitchen sink, and again, I handed him his sister.
They have remained very close always. Daniel was a BMOC, football star, etc., and he threatened every boy in their high school to watch themselves around her and it got to the point she couldn't get a date. He was crushed when she began dating, cried when she left for college, wept at her wedding and is DEVOTED to her daughter, the famous Kiley. He was the first family member (besides myself who was already there!) to make the drive north to see her when she was born.
Even now, when they are supposed to be grownups, they slip into this silliness when they are together, talking to each other in movie dialogue and retelling every, every, every story from when they were growing up. They SKPE each other almost daily and he has been known to drive two and a half hours just to have lunch with her and then turn around and drive the whole way back. They both brag about each other to anyone who will listen.
They are brother and sister, yes. But even more than that, they are best friends. What more could a mom ask for?