Thursday, August 4, 2011

August 4, 1995

Dear Sal,

Today is your 16th  birthday. And you are DRIVING! (Well... not on your own yet, but, we are stapling notices to telephone poles warning the neighborhood to stay off the sidewalks.) When you were little, I'd let you sit on my lap in the truck and drive it down our gravel road. You've been practicing a long time, so you should be doing great!

When you were born, it was a day very much like today. It was hot and sunny and a beautiful day. You had decided that you did NOT want to be born and were content to stay inside your mom. You were 10 days late and your mom was not having any more of this pregnancy thing so the doctor induced her. You made your grand entrance sometime in the afternoon... late afternoon... and if I were your favorite Auntie, I would know the exact time, except I don't. Sigh. I know. I KNOW! Your dad came running out of the room yelling, "It's a BOY and his feet are HUGE!" Your mom said "his eyes are kinda far apart and he looks like a frog". I thought you were beautiful. We didn't know whether you were a boy or girl beforehand. Your mom didn't have the ultrasound to find out. You were a huge surprise to all of us.

You were the best baby, despite your mom being kind of a freak show about you. It was the middle of August and she had you all wrapped up in blankets ALL the time and then couldn't figure out why you were fussing. You were a warm kid and didn't need all the blankets. Your mom, Munka and I would cart you all over the place. We took you shopping, to antique stores, the pumpkin patch... and I got every Tuesday night with you because your mom worked.

You never complained about anything we ate for dinner. You helped Ed with projects around the house. You'd play ball with Jessie and eat Kiu's food. "It's yummy! Try some!" you'd say.You would slide from the back hall, through the kitchen on your knees and slam into the sink cupboards and get up rubbing your head. When I'd ask you, "How'd that feel?", you would say, "That feeled fine, Auntie." Then after two or three trips of sliding down the hall and me asking the same question, you'd say, "NOT FINE."

Now you are taller than me, a fact that you never let me live down. And that's OK. I figured that some day you would be. I love that you are best friends with your cousins. I love that even though you tease your sisters mercilessly, you adore them.

I love that you still call me Auntie.

Happy, happy 16th birthday, Sal. I'm so proud of you.

Love,
Auntie