The 1975 song by the Four Seasons starts out…
Oh, what a night
Late December back in sixty three
What a very special time for me
I remember, what a night
My night was in mid-March back in sixty-five, but oh my, the memory of that night is vivid. And the night was, for me, life shaping. On March 14, 1965 my baby sister, Lisa, was born. This week, we celebrate her 60th birthday!
I was 10 years and 343 days old. Being almost 11, I understood I was old enough to play an increasing role in helping my mom and dad with the younger kids as the family welcomed another baby. As the oldest of 6 (with Lisa’s birth), I had fast been approaching the capable category for a while. Raising a family in the 60s, especially in a family with 2 working parents, was a team effort. It required all available and capable hands on deck. In 1965, I think I was much older than 11 year olds today. To be fair, in 1965, 70 year olds were much older than they are today, too. I guess it all works out. 😊
My mom had been pregnant for what seemed (to me) to be forever with this 5th sibling of mine. In fact, she’d gone into false labor a couple of times, always during the day when it was easy to marshal a babysitter for the 5 of us while dad took mom to the hospital. But on this night, mom went into labor in the middle of the night, and after a couple of false alarms, the babysitter situation wasn’t quite so easy.
I remember Dad waking me up, and telling me that he had to take Mom to the hospital, that I was the babysitter, and that my job was to stay awake and if the house started on fire, get all my brothers and sisters out. Someone else would be there to watch us at about 6 in the morning. He parked me at the kitchen table, pulled out his Smith-Corona typewriter in its case, and set some typing paper in front of me. My eyes widened and I instantly lost all desire to go back to sleep.
I loved that typewriter, but it wasn’t a toy. Dad reminded me every time I asked if I could use it that it was an important work tool for him, not a plaything for me. Though I knew how it worked, I was never allowed to “play” with it. Being able to use it, all by myself, for hours…wow! Dad had me pegged for sure. He knew I wasn’t going to fall back asleep before the real babysitter arrived.
I already loved to read, and I don’t remember if I was writing by then, but that night with the typewriter was uniquely memorable for me. I fell in love with the process of putting words on paper. I haven’t stopped since.
That typewriter experience was only the first of many things that created the life I live today because of the birth of my sister, Lisa.
Lisa and I had a special relationship from the start. She was like my own little, living, breathing, pooping baby doll. I learned a lot about mothering because of Lisa. I was fascinated, and competent. As she grew, I grew right along with her. When I was 15, I started hanging out with a boy a year older than me that I met at CYO (Catholic Youth Organization). Steve had a little sister the same age as Lisa so the 4 of us spent a whole lot of time “double dating.” We took those kids everywhere we went.
My teen-age years were spent helping mom and dad with the 5 younger kids. I learned a great sense of responsibility and common sense. When I turned 16, I also got a part-time job at SS Kresge Co, a five and dime store (like Woolworths) that was the predecessor to the Kmart stores. I loved everything about that job and about business in general. I liked what my dad did every day much more than what my mom did, and I decided, when I was 16, that I was never going to have kids. My life’s ambition when I graduated from high school was to be the manager of a Kmart store. I never did have kids, but neither did I ever become the manager of a Kmart store.
Randy has a baby brother (Mark) born about 3 weeks before Lisa. When he and I started dating, we spent a lot of time with those two kids. They were 10 by then. Randy and I bought a house in Green Bay and Mark and Lisa overnighted there whenever they could. Eventually Randy went back in the Air Force and we moved far, far away. So far that I missed all of Lisa’s teen-age and early adult years.
By the time Randy retired from the Air Force, and we moved back to Wisconsin, Lisa was married and had 2 babies of her own. Over the years, she moved to a southern suburb of Chicago, and then, in 2019 she moved to Naples, Florida. That worked out well for us when I retired in 2020. We visited Florida 3 times in about 18 months.
Lisa, in retrospect, was the trailblazer for our own move to Florida. I doubt we would ever have actually moved here without her being here first. She and I are alike in a lot of ways, and far different in others. We both love the beach, the sun, the water, the sand. We both like jigsaw puzzles, a lot. We both love our mom, a lot. And we’ve become friends as well as sisters while living in Florida, as close to each other as we’ve ever been in our adulthood.
So, this week, I’m celebrating my not-so-baby sister, Lisa. You’ve grown into a woman I respect and admire, who knows how to have fun with almost anyone, anywhere, who speaks her mind confidently and boldly, who doesn’t take any crap, and who is tender hearted, thoughtful, emotional, and loving. Lisa, I’m proud of you and I love you! Thank you for trailblazing our path to live in Florida and thank you for being the best baby sister a girl could ever have. Happy, happy birthday!
P.S. Our friend Bruce and Randy are finally doing that tub to walk-in shower conversion in our guest bathroom I’ve been dreaming about since we moved in. I couldn’t be happier! Only a couple more interior projects until the house is perfect.
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