Widgets Magazine

Jan 18, 2013

Some Things are Never Forgotten

I have a story for you. I was 6 years old when my little sister, Deb, was born. I was just about the same age that Scout is now. I thought I was pretty smart and I knew all about babies. There was no logic to that assumption because before my parents decided to have Deb, there were only five of us and I was second to youngest with my little sister being about 18 months younger than me. Obviously I never cared for her when she was little, but I thought I knew everything.

Deb was born in October, 1971. I immediately adopted her as my own. I lugged her around and shook a rattle for her. I even changed her diapers with a little help from Mom. She was cute and growing so fast! I kept telling her what a big girl she was...

That's Scout in the pink pants...same age as me when this happened.
Remember when I told you about the table my parents had while growing up? It was a massive thing with chairs that were attached and swung free without legs. We played ping-pong on it as kids when we weren't using it to eat dinner. (It's still at Dad's house and this is a picture from our visit last spring.)

So one day when Deb was three or four months old, I was playing "mommy" and I hauled her into the kitchen. The phone rang. It happened to sit on a little phone stand just east of the table in the corner. No one else was within earshot, so I sat Deb down on one of the chairs and reached for the phone.

I know what you are thinking...how many four-month-olds can sit up by themselves?

And you are right. No sooner had a turned away to reach the phone than she toppled right off the chair and onto the hard linoleum. Why was it that Mom couldn't hear the ringing phone but as soon as the baby started screaming she was right there?

I received one of the worst tongue-lashings of my life and it was repeated many times even up until several years before my mom passed away. I don't think she ever quite fully forgave me for letting Deb fall on her head even though I wrote her this really nice thank-you note.


And it didn't stop there! Even six months ago at a family get-together my little sis reminded me that I had let her fall on the floor. Never mind that I was under the age of accountability then. Let me just tell you, some things are never forgotten.


5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I am struggling with your post. Should I tell you I was actually born in 1971, or pretend I can't remember because you dropped me on my head?! Love ya! Deb

Mom of 12 said...

You are absolutely right! I'm having one of those moments. Randy was born in 1973. I will make the change. Thanks!
Sandy

Mom of 12 said...

And that means I can't do math either...I was 7 when I let you fall, but I was only six when you were born. Somebody must have dropped me on my head when I was little... Laurie? Jim?
Sandy

Natalie Ockey said...

Thanks for the story. I've never heard this one. It certainly explains a lot, though . . .

~R

LeAnn said...

Yes, I have had some moments when something's are never forgotten. I enjoyed reading this story. Thanks heavens, Deb was OK. Being 6 or 7 years old you are not accountable. I am sure you were devastated by it all. It was sweet that you cared for this little sister of yours.
Blessings!

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