Category Archives: birth order

Lara’s Blue Rose

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When Lara ‘graduated’ from her Schulz Elementary School, to

head off into what is now Willis “Middle School,” I talked to her

about finishing well in fourth grade and how proud of her I was.

The family all were very excited about her test scores and the way

she had handled school thus far.

If you grew up in the period where sixth grade was the year you

advanced to Junior High School, that is the way it when my

children, ages 28, 32 and 34, were young. They went from

fifth grade ‘graduation’ to Willis Middle School, where it was

sixth through eighth grades. Then, the last child, only stayed in

middle school for sixth and seventh, advancing to Dempsey

Junior High were she went to eighth grade. Have I confused you

yet?

What grade does your small town or big city school system

“change up” or move on, passing from elementary to a different

school?  What label do they give to the next level of education?

 

Lara’s birthday celebration was held in June, reaching the ‘big’

milestone of a ‘two digit’ number: 10! I gave her clothes for her

birthday and a craft kit to make a variety of jeweled and braided

bracelets.

 

Recently, Lara found my latest name pictures that I had drawn,

used pen and ink then ‘coloring’ in the letters, decorative items

and the little children in the pictures, with watercolor. She asked

me about the one I had done for a past friend, a mother of three

children now.

She wondered if the baby was going to like it, when she grew up?

This comment came due to the fact the baby was in a basket. She

noticed this was different; instead of my usual design that includes

an active child or a resting child. I like to make the child around 4

or 5 years old, since that is about when they will notice the framed

picture on the wall, with the letters of their name included in the

design.

I had not wanted to make Lara sad, but I told her the baby was in

“Heaven,” that she had died last year. I went on to tell her how I

came to make this picture for someone I really knew much better,

in the past.

I ran into this woman, who once a long time ago, in her high school

years, had decided to volunteer at a nursing home that I worked at

as an Activities Director. This young woman, Michelle, became quite

involved with the program. I became involved in her life. She was

living with her grandfather, but she liked when we had lunch in the

summer months and for us to run by the hospital to see her mother,

Fay, who worked at the little coffee shop there.

Along with my picking her up and dropping her off, for after hours

events and trips, we went by my house one day. I ran in and asked

my oldest daughter if she had any dresses Michelle could wear. Our

nursing home was ‘strict’ and as long as we were in the building,

we weren’t allowed to wear pants. The Director of the nursing home

also liked the female volunteers to wear skirts or dresses, too. I only

had my son, Jamie and one other young man, volunteer in the four

years I was in activities. They were asked to wear khaki pants or

dress pants, plus a collared shirt. No t-shirts allowed!

I also rummaged through my closet and allowed Michelle, to check

out a variety of clothes, then we bundled these and Carrie’s up into a

garbage bag, for her to go home and try on.

 

When I ran into Michelle at Mingo Park, I hugged her, as I always do.

This is a habit to greet all the many young people that have come and

gone from my life.

I had been pleasantly happy and amused when my coworker, Felda,

had often mentioned that she had a ‘best friend’ she met at Goodwill,

who was named “Michelle.” (Never using her maiden name, just her

married last name.)

Soon, I “met” her at the parties held by my friends and coworkers

from the Philippines. They insist we call them Filipino and they love

us to try their foods. Michelle and I have sat together at the baby

shower for Zach, his Christening Party and also Felda and Jason’s

house-warming party. I take my grandsons, who share a babysitter

with Felda’s kids, if they wish to go. Recently, my M & M girls have

chosen to attend Kridia Dawn’s birthday party and other functions.

 

We were in ‘touch’ but Michelle had never shared with me about the

loss of a baby, until we were at the park in early July. She and her

husband were with their 3 children. They were running around with

my two grandsons, Micah and Skyler who were also having fun on

the playground equipment.

 

Michelle showed me pictures of a healthy baby girl, full term, who

weighed 8 lbs. 2 oz. She was named, “Katie Mae.” She had fair skin,

like her sisters Lily and Anna. Also like her blonde brother, William.

The children had held their new baby sister, last summer. Michelle,

who started to cry throughout this visit, told me that Anna had

kissed her sister many, many times. Lily was happy to help get

diapers and bring her blankets. William had held the baby for a

minute then had asked to have her given back to her mother.

The baby cried a lot after she came home from the hospital with

her mother.

Lara was absorbed by all of this, she and her brother Landen, had

been a ‘family’ once with a Dad name Kevin and their mother,

Trista. The parents got divorced, my son met Trista when Lara

and Landen were preschoolers and married her.

Lara has been a wonderful ‘big sister’ to Jamie and Trista’s girls,

the M & M’s. This, along with two more brothers, from her Daddy

Kevin’s second marriage.

Lara wanted to know why the baby died?

It is hard to explain, but Michelle says the baby got a red rash on her

second day home from the hospital, she worried and called the doctor’s

office. The doctor’s nurse called back to suggest a different formula.

She suspected an allergic reaction. The parents went out and got new

formula, this time the 2nd night at home, was filled sadly, with the

baby’s shrieks.

They bundled their children into their clothes, wrapping little Katie

carefully up.

She just seemed ‘tender to the touch,’ Michelle explained.

At the hospital, they were in the waiting room for quite some time,

but once inside one of the E.R. rooms, the intern was very kind

and blood was drawn. He thought it may be an allergic reaction

but was concerned about the way the baby was shrieking, not

wanting to take the bottle, the redness and rash was bright and

splotchy. He prescribed a baby’s antibiotic, sent them home.

There would be a call the next day, the diagnosis possibly of a

blood disease, a different prescription to pick up.

The baby went to sleep quietly, eerily, after first being held by

each parent. Katie looked solemnly into her father’s eyes. Next,

Michelle held her carrying her to bed. She says Katie “searched

her face.” She remembers Katie studying her eyes.

There are many photographs, but the one that stands out most

to me, is heart-wrenching. They managed to capture Katie looking

straight into her Daddy’s eyes. It was a profile image, which is so

precious.

This was her third night at home.

Michelle nodded her head when I exclaimed,

“Katie is looking at him like, ‘Why can’t you make me feel better?!'”

This was the last picture they took of Katie. She died on her

fifth night of life.

(The coroner found cause of death to be, “Undetermined.”)

 

Lara wants me to make her a new name picture, it has her

name in ‘cursive’ with a blue rose above it, with cheerleading

pom pom’s on the sides, a football with Cleveland Browns

written below it, with an ice cream cone, one scoop of mint

ice cream and one of vanilla. She was adamant about the blue

rose.

I will share what I found out about blue roses. I want you to

know, all of you literary people, that I right away visualized the

scene in “The Glass Menagerie,” where Laura is called, “Blue

Roses,” by the brother and by the visiting ‘gentleman caller.’

This is due to her having pleurosis, which I thought was ‘pleurisy.’

Wikipedia says Tennessee Williams’ real life sister was named

“Rose” but did have ‘pleurosis.” I remembered the blue roses’

reference from that 1944 play.

Then, I looked up the way that genetic engineering has created

blue roses. In the past, blue roses were ‘made’ by putting white

roses into blue food coloring or sprayed by a blue vegetable dye.

 

I had made pictures in the past years of Lily, William and Anna’s

names years before. I delivered Katie’s to Michelle’s family, on

Sunday night. The three children, Katie’s sisters and brother,

wanted me to see their bedrooms and their toys.

In the picture I made, I had added a pink rose above Katie’s head

on her little blanket and one on where the blanket crossed her

chest, there are blue forget-me-not’s in the grass and a white

bunny lying by the basket. There are tall sunflowers and tulips

in other places on the picture. I had included a sun bonnet, with

purple violets hanging on one of the tall letters.

I mentioned to Michelle and Kevin, quietly, that I lost two babies

before they were born, one at 4 1/2 months and one at 4 months.

My children and I had a tradition that I started the year the last one

died, which includes reading a special book to and putting an angel

ornament on the Christmas tree for each of their 2 ‘lost siblings.’

I told them once I had been to hear a country gospel group, The

Greens, sing at Ohio Wesleyan University, in Gray Chapel.

One of the sweetest songs I heard that night was called, “There’s

A Rocking Chair In Heaven.”

We nodded, words left unspoken.

We hugged.

The M & M girls!

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The youngest pair of “wild children,” “keep me on my toes constantly,”

and cutest little darlings are my two granddaughters, Marley and

Makyah. We have taken to calling them the M & M girls!

I write more frequently of my oldest daughter’s son’s, Micah and Skyler

and about our fresh, unique conversations. I feel bad that I don’t write

quite as often about the two girls who just completed more than a

twenty-four hour long visit!

I have wonderful times with my daughter in law and son’s two youngest

children. I also, when the older ones are home from their visits with

their own father, treasure the older two! (Lara and Landen) Last time I

posted about Lara and Landen, it was on their Grandparents’ Day and

my individual experiences in their classrooms.

We could say I am not partial to any of my grandchildren, but I have

to admit that while with whichever ones I am with, I follow that old love

song’s advice:  “Love the one you’re with!” (Just in case you were not

familiar with this one, it was originally a single by Stephen Stills, later

performed with Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, and there also exists a

Luther Vandross’ rendition.)

During our first exciting part of my visit with the M & M girls, I intended

have the girls try on “fancy” dresses and take photographs of them. I

had lost the shots done about a month ago, due to a glitch or override

on my old digital camera. My youngest daughter gave me a recent gift,

since I am the family chronicler of photos,of a new digital more finer

tuned camera. I was all set to do a fun photo session.

Rounding the girls up from looking at the Halloween decorations,

playing with the baby dolls and other distracting things was became a

monumental event! Marley is great in her second year of preschool,

the “teacher’s pet.” She tries to “mother” (or smother) Makyah and that

just puts Kyah’s “brakes” on! This is a stubborn, willful, and very smart

young two year old! She can go potty, put on and take off her clothes

and prefers the latter procedure best!

So, I enticed Marley by showing her the “princess” dress which would

have made her the cutest flower girl ever in my oldest daughter’s

wedding, had her partner had gone through with it! I am still paying

on the wedding dress and other attirements, as her father is paying

for the reception deposits!

Marley’s parents went the more economical way, a back yard wedding

out by a stream at my daughter in law’s grandmother’s house. Her

son, Landen, was the ring bearer and Lara, was the flower girl. Theirs

was all paid for by themselves, except my donation towards some of

the food and the children’s attire. My brother generously footed the

alcohol bill.

Marley’s dress is a deep lavendar, I put her hair up on her head in

a bun and got pictures of her holding a posey bouquet with white,

pink and yellow. I then gave her a tied together collection of deep

burgundy roses, white roses and baby’s breath. I will probably end

up developing both, since she is just so cute. Kyah kept walking

around us in her undies, took a turn in the bathroomand cried a bit.

Since her dress was Marley’s from when she was 2 and is a cream

satin one. She wanted to wear purple! (or “poople,” as her little voice

wailed!)

I came up with another way to shoot Marley, not to make it such

a wedding attendant’s but as just a “fancy” dress, by getting one

of my English bone china tea cup sets down and asking her to

pretend to drink from it. She did the cutest thing, even with her

prim expression, at first, maybe she has seen a movie with someone

doing this? She looked “British” in her head held high, chin up and

tea cup in one hand, the other one holding the saucer. I had her sit

sideways for her last, more relaxed shots and she was just leaning

on the back of the chair with one arm on the light oak back, feet

tucked up under her. Her poses with the whole gown covering her

bare toes while standing sideways and looking at me, looked like

a “pro!”

What got cooperation out of Makyah? The arrival of her cousin, Micah,

who my oldest daughter had thought arranged a play date with and

he was suddenly at “loose ends.” She was on her way to bowling alley

with my oldest grandson, Sky. They were rushed and Micah looked

at the one girl nearly naked and the other dressed to the hilt and

exclaimed, loudly, I may add, “What in the heck is going on here?!”

(He is four years old and tells me all the time I cannot use the word

shit so I say “shoot” and he also lectures me on saying the “stupid”

tire or “stupid” can or anything inanimate that is not cooperative.

I have had to tell him and the other five grandkids, if they hung out

with my two brothers, we were allowed to say stupid or silly but

no “heck,” “darn,” or “dummit” since there are implications of actual

swear words in those substitutes.)

Anyway, Kyah was told that Micah wanted to go on a flashlight walk,

that we needed to get her portion of the photo sitting done, pronto!

She walked over, got the dress off the bed, stuck her head and arms

into the lovely dress and promptly told “older” sister, Marley to “get

off the chair and leave Nana and me alone!”

I unbuttoned Marley and she went into the living room dressed to

play with Micah. I got a few cute shots with a sort of smile, one with

a smile I had to tickle and do the little chant “This Little Piggy” on

Kyah’s toes and one looking at her hands, pensive shot. I know her

mother, my daughter in law will be happy, since Makyah is a tough

one to get to smile. She is one that when you do get the rare one,

it is like a huge rainbow feeling. You feel successful and in awe, at

the same time!

On our flashlight walk, we had three flashlights and all the lights at

OWU that light the way around their property. We investigated and

looked for the ducks in the creek, crossed two of the three bridges,

looked for walking sticks. (Kyah’s was the thickest and heaviest, of

course. And seeing that stubborn little waif dragging it, rather than

leaning on it as the others did, cracked me up!)

We came to big bright green orbs in the grass, the size of tennis balls.

I saw one half open, knowing there were nuts inside, I pried it with my

fingernails open, there were white mealy worms in there, but finally

I managed to unearth the walnuts! Are you yet realizing how stupid I

was to do this? I am still typing away at the library with pitifully brown

fingers that have endured three soakings in bleach water and every

other kind of cleaning liquid I could find in my house! Never, ever do

this mistake!

When we found some spider web like leaves that were huge and looked

like they belonged in the rainforest, we were excited. Do I know the tree

and am able to impart this knowledge to you? Nope! But each child

wanted to drop their walking sticks and carry these leaves that were

partly green and the rest weblike brown, transparent enough to put

your hand on one side and flash the light through to see the shadow

on your hand. They waved them above their heads like they were

carrying an umbrella made of a leaf. When we got to the tall bridge,

I held each child up to look over the ledge and they shone their light

to see if they could spot a fish or two.

Once home, we made a big effort to clean their hands that “Thank God!”

I had not let them touch the green coated shell of the black walnuts!

We managed to get our p.j’s on, except Micah who would be picked up

around ten o’clock. I served little trays of drinks in sippy cups with lids,

popcorn and 100% fruit snacks.

Nana hates spills! That is when “shit” just comes flying out of my mouth.

I managed very hard to say nothing when, in the morning, maple syrup

was spilled and also, milk. I make fifty cent piece size (some may be like

the old silver dollar sized) pancakes and give little empty applesauce

cups filled with maple syrup. I cut apple slices up to give some extra

nutrition. I was okay with how the two girls ate and wiped them off

fairly successfully. There will need to be a reapplication of carpet

shampoo in one area, but if that is the worst that the carpet endures,

that isn’t too bad!

We watched two movies, one at night: “Hoodwinked” and one in the

morning during our stickers, coloring and making cards for Sweetest

Day time for Mommy, Daddy and Great Grammie Oldrieve. (My Mom)

The animated movie, in the morning, was titled, “Madagascar 3, Europe’s

Most Wanted.” Since this post is overlong, and I really want to review

those two hilarious movies, I will be reviewing and writing their

summaries next post! You can skip them, that way, without having to

go through them, although both can be viewed and enjoyed by adults

only, without accompanying children or grandchildren!

Today, we went to Mingo Park and played for an hour to wear off the

sugar from natural maple, apples and corn syrup served by myself

to youngsters. They loved to chase each other, I helped them go

down poles, followed them on slides and we did the whole Big Toy

experience. We also went back past the Olentangy River subsidiary

and saw lots of ducks and a heron, too.

When I dropped the girls off, they ran inside showing their sticker

and artwork cards and said, “We only ate pancakes for breakfast, mac

and cheese for lunch and we are hungry!” I smiled, because the park

exercise had done its job and worn off all those calories and sugar!

Happy Columbus Day! Enjoy your day off, if you are lucky enough to

have it!

 

 

Oh, Brother!

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From those Early Childhood classes to the Psych coursework, I have

a few pieces of information about birth order, siblings and the “onlies”

in the family. I hope to just talk and compare the studies and learnings

with my own experience with two brothers and my three children.

Since my six grandchildren are from age nine to age two, like little

stair steps, I probably will not include their growth so far or make any

hasty “predictions!”

Let’s think about the only children out there. I am sure most of you

have wished to be an “only child” at least once in your life! Their

secure life, being the center of their parents’ “doting” eyes, more

possession, and all new clothes, made me envious at times! I had

one good friend throughout my entire life who was an only child.

I am writing to a good, new friend, Tracy on our blog sites who is

lauching her son out into the world of college and it is a scary but

exciting moment for her.

The wisdom that I learned from rereading some notes on child

development about only children also includes not just their feeling

of security. I read that they relate to adults better, grow up being

more confident in mature or “adult” relationships, and they have

a parent or set of parents who introduce more activities, social

settings and make up for no siblings by being close knit. I am still

confident that this is a wonderful position to be in.

In the next “category,” are the first born children. I could go on

and on about my personal experience of being 18 months older

than my next brother and then 3 years older than my youngest

but who  wants to know more about Me? Ha!

There is a predominant “theme” going on, when you read about

how successful, both professionally and monetarily the first born

children achieve. This is not so true in my case, but having the

children, divorce and life were some setbacks. Both my brothers

have had great relationships with women with children. My

“youngest” brother has spent over twenty years with his wife,

who had three children of her own. I like that part of our personal

journeys, since he says, my having three children, being single

and having some similar dark hair and eyes could have contributed

to their successful marriage.

Although genes, parents attitudes and reactions along with that

ever present “danger” and sometimes “blessing” of peers (with

peer pressure) studies still say the relationship of siblings has

a huge impact on the way we see things and carry out our lives.

Certainly, in most cases, your brothers and sisters are the ones

who are your ready made play pals. They can impact upon your

life through those 10 -17 hours a week you spend once school

starts. Before school, obviously, endless hours can pass by yourself,

as an “only” or with your sibling(s).

First borns have become the majority of our Presidents, leaders

and again “successes” in the measurable ways that studies are

carried out. There have been even a few to impart this fact: First

borns may have higher IQ’s. I suppose, looking at it as a parent,

you spend a lot of time on that first one. I didn’t have much time

since my first husband envied the wonderfully combined ways

that my brothers and I worked as a team. So, we chose to “make”

a second baby (even finding out a higher probability way to have

a boy for our second child so we could be “finished.”) His brother

and sister, being 5 and 7 years older than he, made him feel

separated and not included in their older life style. It did contribute

to him rolling his big brother’s car out of the sloped drive at age 12

to go on a “cruise!” It also, always to me, made him seem so mature.

Little did I know…!

The second child or even, middle child, becomes a different source

of information. The ways the first born “cut the path” or led the

family are already formed. There are significant ways that the parents

have developed relationships with children through that first born

that impact the next born. The choices and points of view, even the

“rules” and discipline patterns are being developed before you, as

a second child, have come along.

The “middles” go to friends more, studies show, while the first born

goes to his or her parents for information and support, whether

emotional or financial. There are several stereotypes also in this

category, where they seem to not know their way, their position is

more precarious. Sometimes these sterotypes may influence your

thoughts upon reflecting upon your middle child, as they do mine.

Also, they may not be quite fair either. I found by having a son

between two girls, I would make a joke, maybe it would haunt me

later…”My son is the thorn between two roses.” We spent a whole

year in therapy, from age fifteen years to sixteen years old. My son

and I were very close before he turned nine, when I married my

last husband.

This is a little regretful confession, I allowed my second and third

husband to take my son’s position of being the “man in the house”

away. Believe me, I thought for sure this would be a relief! I am a

big analyzer and never dreamed that he loved sitting in the front,

being the navigator. Really! I didn’t know he even liked taking the

garbage out, starting my car and also, the chore of mowing the

lawn! Along came men, twice, (one for two years and then a

span of seven years of singledom, then another for 13 years

who each “took his position away.”) I was so sad when Dr. Miguel

Hernandez intoned these words to me. I thought he had always

his Dad, my first husband who loved him “best.” Sorry, but it is

true, my ex did not take my daughter (oldest) to any Cincinnati

Reds baseball games or Bengals football games. She stayed at

home with his second and third wives, sometimes to go shop

but usually to maintain by herself.

I thought by putting more time in with the girls, my littlest had

my full attention once the second divorce occurred, that son

would be just fine.

Anyway, the most important part of any time you spend with

your children is to pay attention to what they like. So, after or

before therapy, once a week, we did miniature golf or got a

big bucket of golf balls and whacked away at them. We went

off to bars, to play pool and drink pop with wings. We went on

walks, we talked and we celebrated his sixteenth birthday on

our own, with Mexicans singing their “Feliz cumpleanos” and

how he now had big “cajones!”

I can add to the middle child syndrome saying through the

fine art of observation of my middle brother and my son,

they are very creative, independent, have their own unique

identities and sometimes are more sensitive. They both have

a little “wish they had paid more attention to me.” My son used

to count the Christmas presents and the jelly beans in his

Easter basket. I think they want to really know they are loved!

Whoa! the youngest are amazing individuals in my children and

my brothers and I’s cases. They set their own path, sometimes

more secure in all that “trickled down” love. (This and a few of

the quoted words are all my opinions and not taken from any

books.)

The studies include for third or last born children, these lovely

“edicts” they are risk takers, they break the mold, and they

move ahead faster. They have bundles of “baby love” piled

on them. I can tell you this, if I heard it once, I heard it a 1000

times, my little brother was “cute” and “adorable.” He was a

blonde towhead that my brunette brother (18 months younger)

and I would declare, “was the mailman or milkman’s son,”

depending on which way we wanted to try and bring him a little

down!

At U.C. Berkeley, there was an interesting study of three famous

baseball players, all with the last name of DiMaggio. They were,

of course, Joe, (who married the gorgeour icon, Marilyn Monroe!),

Dom and Vince. In the study, they pondered, gathered information,

and came up with the conclusion that the youngest DiMaggio “stole

bases more often” which confirmed the studies in other areas of

the “babies in the family”: They are secure in areas unlike others

in the very same family.

I love this study that was done about favorites. Everyone believes their

parents show favoritism. I felt that my parents were “hardest” on me

and expected more. I am never sure, though, if some of the reasons

were that I was the only girl. There were some advantages to that! I

had my own room, my mother sewed matching dresses for us and I

was chosen to go along to the grocery store and to the Great Northern

Mall in North Olmsted. I was always happy to have these one on one

“ride along” experiences.

Anyway, the study, interestingly enough covered from the grown kids’

points of view compared to the parents. Of course, many parents were

kind and proper in their approach, saying they “loved them all the same.”

I could not disagree more with this statement, as a mother of three, I

loved them all differently, uniquely and favored each during different

stages of their lives. Sorry, but sometimes I relied and loved my oldest

daughter more. I loved the baby child since I knew she was my last one

and I didn’t have to share her, thanks to my ex’s mistake of infidelity

and a very sympathetic court. I got to raise her as my own while sharing

her with my then retired parents, brothers, and along with a generous

and loving (only sister) sister in law! Lastly, my son, like me, being the

only boy, had his own room, his own ways of getting away with things,

after all, a boy should be allowed more freedom (wrong thinking on

my part and very stereotypical! But it happened within my own siblings

and my life, so hard to break that pattern.)

A last intriguing study was done by a man named William Ickes, PhD.

He was a professor of psychology who did his research in 1983. You

probably can look this up for any further interest or verification. He

chose to look at the picture of male and female sibling relationships

and then, take the way they responded in a different setting. When

the girls with older brothers, boys with older sisters were studied

compared to ones who were only children or were oldest. The ones

who had someone to look up to and “emulate” (again my word choice)

This watching, imitating and respecting the ones who had gone before

them, helped these siblings combinations to break the ice and become

more social in a setting established by the researcher. He further

extrapolated that closer knit siblings within this study had more

positive relationships with the opposite sex. So, thank your older

brother or sister for that great marriage or romance, folks!

I feel an interesting end of this thinking and contemplating siblings, is

to picture growing older. I found a few situations that were written

about how the oldest ended up the caretaker of the parent(s). I also

found that sometimes the differences that were well entrenched and

established between siblings changed and evolved, very positively

when grown older.

Death and other tragedies can bring people in families closer or

widen the gap between siblings and parents. Sometimes there is

the hurt egos, the old feelings of neglect and playing the “blame

game.” I would hope, in all sincerity, that illness, death and other

disasters would bring new ties, building and binding those wounds

so that everyone can have a happier future. When my Dad was ill,

I have mentioned we had a jokes and funny stories “rule” that

everyone had to find something to bring smiles to Dad’s faces,

and I will tell you that I will never forget how we all felt so much

closer and so much joy, despite the true reason for our joking.

We tried to carry out some of Dad’s “bucket list” and we did

not cry nor complain. My brothers and uncle had built a ramp

for my Dad’s wheelchair about a week or two in the freezing

cold of winter, before he died on January 27, 2001.

Birth order sometimes affects personality, success rate, happiness

and does reveal continued patterns that show up across the world

in varied studies. Generalities can be proven, but also there will

naturally be exceptions to any “rules!”

My final thought, of course, is to try to repair any damages in your

relationships, whether with siblings, parents or friends. We all have

limited time on this earth, we need to be spending that “guilt free”

and carefree.

Happy endings are always the way that I wish you all to go!

Don’t postpone joy for another day!