You were always there, ten years ahead of me. At seven, I went downstairs every morning to get your freshly ironed Kent Place uniform from the laundry room and even though mom said that I shouldn't do that for you because I would be late for school, I did it anyway. I would do anything for the chance to enter your room which was filled with all the teen age trappings of a sister who had entered a world I could barely imagine. You once said, "if you want to know anything about stuff, ask me. Mom won't tell you anything." So it was you I turned to and still do.
When I was thirteen, you were married and drove west for a new life in California. "You will visit me," you announced. And so I did. I got to experience Golden Gate Park in the 60's, where Country Joe and the Fish played free concerts and hippies wore flowers in their hair. At sixteen, we camped in Wyoming. Years later, I traveled with my young daughters to your Oregon Farm where they climbed trees to pick cherries and rattled the bucket to call in your sheep.
Now it's Portland that we explore when I come west. We take art classes and sit at Townsend on Alberta Street, sharing a pot of Immortalizer Tea. More and more we reflect on the mystery of it all.
Happy Seventieth Rue.
I wish for you a year of deep peace, good health, and good times.
2 comments:
Yay Ru. Happy Birthday.
Wow, 70?…that's old, right?
Well, not so much. You'll
be fine! Health and Happiness
to all.
I am so fortunate to have had you in my life...I held your hand when you were toddling and I know you will hold mine twenty years from now, if I need it. But for now, it's a great party every time we get to be together! Thanks for the blog post!
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