favorite

Mother told me the day she was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer that I had been her favorite baby. Not favorite daughter. Favorite baby.

No kidding. My eldest sister was a war baby, her daddy overseas when she was born. My middle sister was a baby at war. Hers was a war my parents would never understand - bipolar. She has written a book, It's Not Your Mind-It's Your Brain. And I was the happy, nosy, fun-loving Fire Monkey. Who could have resisted my impish ways?

By the time I came along, Mother was 11 years into her second, very secure marriage. Most likely her heart was nearly healed from being a war widow and trying to raise the daughter from her childhood sweetheart on her own. She told me that painful day in the hospital that I was so cute I made her want to have another baby. Oh, how I wish she had.

Being the youngest had many advantages. Like, I seemed to be center stage most of the time. Everyone thought I was adorable and amusing. But I always wanted a younger sister. Honestly, being the youngest is often irritating. My sisters sometimes are compelled to give me unasked for advice and seem to think I don't have sense enough to come in out of the rain, so to speak. Here I am almost 50 and I would really like to be taken seriously once in a while.

I dream about being an older sister. You know, the calls late at night, "Hattigrace, I really need your advice about. . . " Or, what would it have been like to have a 6'3" strappingly handsome older brother throwing his arm around my shoulder, telling me what a good man I married and how he is like a brother?

The hardest part of losing my mother is how she respected me and listened to all my ideas. She never gave advice unless I asked for it. And she always encouraged me. She found something good about every harebrained idea I came up with. I forever have a new business idea that will make my next million! Of course, it is all talk, but sometimes it is fun to just talk these things out. She never belittled my oft silly ideas.

We would laugh about my childhood and all the fun times we had going to antique auctions out it the country side in Michigan, sewing, embroidering, knitting and watching our goofy dogs playing on our tire swing. We giggled the most over how much I loved bananas when I was very young. I would actually eat two or three a day.

See, I really am a Monkey!