Caitlin is leaving for a six-week study abroad trip to Germany on her birthday, which is Friday. Before then, I'm hoping she'll read this...
For the first 13 years of my life, I can remember wishing for only three things:
Caitlin Denise Jones. Named for our father's mother (Kathleen) and father (Dennis) and given the most popular first name of the year (technically, the 44th most popular for that year, but every friend she had for years was named Caitlin too).
Caitlin was born when I was at the end of seventh grade. I remember leaving for school that morning, saying goodbye to Mom and Dad while they timed contractions. Caitlin was due later--I think on the 7th. But Dad assured me that she'd most likely come that day.
In seventh grade (and all through middle school), I had every single class with my best friend (and still one of my favorite people) Katy. She and I were on pins and needles all day on June 1st, wondering what was happening back at my house. After lunch, our home ec teacher (yes, home ec: it was hell for me) let me go to the office to call home. When no one answered, I ran back to class with the news that they'd probably gone to the hospital. My home ec teacher suggested that Mom had merely gone shopping... At the time I thought she was an idiot, now I get that she was a smart ass...
My next class was pre-algebra, and when the front office called for "Becky" over the intercom, the whole class jumped. However, there was another Becky in our class... and that's who they wanted.
Eventually, God smiled on me, and I was called from class. Dad, calling from the hospital, said, "You have a baby sister."
At this point, I should say that we didn't know what they baby was going to be until she was born (well, I didn't know. Mom and Dad may have known and kept it to themselves). We had been calling the baby, "Embry" (short for "Embryo," obviously), since Mom first told me she was pregnant. It actually took me a long time to stop calling her that, but I'm pleased to say that I haven't slipped on her name in at least two years. :)
And this is where Caitlin's "Birth Story" ends for me. Oh, I know a little about it from what I've been told. But she's not my daughter, and I won't pretend to know what only her parents can know: who she was in the first precious minutes of life.
Here's the story I'll tell instead: On June 1, 1988, my life was changed forever by one of the most talented and awe-inspiring individuals I've had the privilege to meet.
But Caitlin didn't start out all "awe-inspiring" and stuff. I can remember screaming into my pillow in those first months, "Make her stop crying!! Shut her up!!" Nothing is better birth control for a teenager than a newborn in the next room. She cried and cried and cried. Cait, Mom might tell you differently, but I'm telling you: you didn't sleep for at least three months. Why do you think Mom and Dad slept on the other side of the house??
At about age four, Caitlin turned from sobbing to violence. Every boyfriend I ever had over--and even the "he's-not-my-boyfriend-but-I-wish-he-was" friends--got attacked by Caitlin. She'd hit them with pillows until they ran away screaming. And to make sure they got the point? She'd show them her Barbie dolls, all tied to dining room chair legs...naked. Dad with a shotgun could not have been more effective than my sister in her Peter Pan phase.
I, of course, was the ideal babysitter. I'd plop her in her swing (or on the floor with a snack when she got older), start her favorite video, and fall asleep on the couch. So I suppose I only have myself to blame for having to endure, "Bambi" 7,468 times in the first five years of Caitlin's life. Seriously. Incidentally, I think Caitlin's love of movies comes from that "bonding time" with me...and I still fall asleep to most movies...
With no good transition from the funny to the touching, I'm just jumping right in...
Caitlin has shown artistic ability in many forms forever. She used to send pictures she'd drawn for me in college (and I can't bring myself to really touch on what it was like to leave for college when she started kindergarten...), and they were good. I still have a favorite painting that I plan to frame and hang. I have a beautiful green box she painted. I have a purple and green vase she made me because those are my two favorite colors.
I've seen Caitlin perform in concerts, in plays and musicals, and in church. She's worked in the art department for two short films that Ike has directed. I've seen furniture she's "fixed up" to make new after buying it at Goodwill. Annie has a lamp that Caitlin painted and decorated to match her room. Jake has a huge elephant pillow that he still asks for when he has a stomachache.
I think I've made it through only one of Caitlin's performances without tearing up (and that was because she played the part of a murderer...and a man). She rolls her eyes at me again and again for being so emotional, but here's what I've never explained to her:
Caitlin, you are the little sister I prayed for. You're further proof that God is good because you are more than I ever imagined a sister could be. Watching you grow up, and being there for it, has been a blessing for me. Your creativity, your talent, your dedication to your beliefs and principles are all things that I admire, respect and love about you. You are mature and level-headed in ways that I certainly wasn't at your age and that I might not even be at mine.
For nineteen years (Nineteen!! But you were just born!), I have been amazed and impressed by you.
God Bless You, Baby Sister. And Happy Birthday.
And you know what? I think we do rule after all.
For the first 13 years of my life, I can remember wishing for only three things:
- That God would make Kenny Rogers my grandpa;
- That He'd throw in a kingdom for which I'd be a princess;
- And that I'd have a little sister to help me rule our land...
Caitlin Denise Jones. Named for our father's mother (Kathleen) and father (Dennis) and given the most popular first name of the year (technically, the 44th most popular for that year, but every friend she had for years was named Caitlin too).
Caitlin was born when I was at the end of seventh grade. I remember leaving for school that morning, saying goodbye to Mom and Dad while they timed contractions. Caitlin was due later--I think on the 7th. But Dad assured me that she'd most likely come that day.
In seventh grade (and all through middle school), I had every single class with my best friend (and still one of my favorite people) Katy. She and I were on pins and needles all day on June 1st, wondering what was happening back at my house. After lunch, our home ec teacher (yes, home ec: it was hell for me) let me go to the office to call home. When no one answered, I ran back to class with the news that they'd probably gone to the hospital. My home ec teacher suggested that Mom had merely gone shopping... At the time I thought she was an idiot, now I get that she was a smart ass...
My next class was pre-algebra, and when the front office called for "Becky" over the intercom, the whole class jumped. However, there was another Becky in our class... and that's who they wanted.
Eventually, God smiled on me, and I was called from class. Dad, calling from the hospital, said, "You have a baby sister."
At this point, I should say that we didn't know what they baby was going to be until she was born (well, I didn't know. Mom and Dad may have known and kept it to themselves). We had been calling the baby, "Embry" (short for "Embryo," obviously), since Mom first told me she was pregnant. It actually took me a long time to stop calling her that, but I'm pleased to say that I haven't slipped on her name in at least two years. :)
And this is where Caitlin's "Birth Story" ends for me. Oh, I know a little about it from what I've been told. But she's not my daughter, and I won't pretend to know what only her parents can know: who she was in the first precious minutes of life.
Here's the story I'll tell instead: On June 1, 1988, my life was changed forever by one of the most talented and awe-inspiring individuals I've had the privilege to meet.
But Caitlin didn't start out all "awe-inspiring" and stuff. I can remember screaming into my pillow in those first months, "Make her stop crying!! Shut her up!!" Nothing is better birth control for a teenager than a newborn in the next room. She cried and cried and cried. Cait, Mom might tell you differently, but I'm telling you: you didn't sleep for at least three months. Why do you think Mom and Dad slept on the other side of the house??
At about age four, Caitlin turned from sobbing to violence. Every boyfriend I ever had over--and even the "he's-not-my-boyfriend-but-I-wish-he-was" friends--got attacked by Caitlin. She'd hit them with pillows until they ran away screaming. And to make sure they got the point? She'd show them her Barbie dolls, all tied to dining room chair legs...naked. Dad with a shotgun could not have been more effective than my sister in her Peter Pan phase.
I, of course, was the ideal babysitter. I'd plop her in her swing (or on the floor with a snack when she got older), start her favorite video, and fall asleep on the couch. So I suppose I only have myself to blame for having to endure, "Bambi" 7,468 times in the first five years of Caitlin's life. Seriously. Incidentally, I think Caitlin's love of movies comes from that "bonding time" with me...and I still fall asleep to most movies...
With no good transition from the funny to the touching, I'm just jumping right in...
Caitlin has shown artistic ability in many forms forever. She used to send pictures she'd drawn for me in college (and I can't bring myself to really touch on what it was like to leave for college when she started kindergarten...), and they were good. I still have a favorite painting that I plan to frame and hang. I have a beautiful green box she painted. I have a purple and green vase she made me because those are my two favorite colors.
I've seen Caitlin perform in concerts, in plays and musicals, and in church. She's worked in the art department for two short films that Ike has directed. I've seen furniture she's "fixed up" to make new after buying it at Goodwill. Annie has a lamp that Caitlin painted and decorated to match her room. Jake has a huge elephant pillow that he still asks for when he has a stomachache.
I think I've made it through only one of Caitlin's performances without tearing up (and that was because she played the part of a murderer...and a man). She rolls her eyes at me again and again for being so emotional, but here's what I've never explained to her:
Caitlin, you are the little sister I prayed for. You're further proof that God is good because you are more than I ever imagined a sister could be. Watching you grow up, and being there for it, has been a blessing for me. Your creativity, your talent, your dedication to your beliefs and principles are all things that I admire, respect and love about you. You are mature and level-headed in ways that I certainly wasn't at your age and that I might not even be at mine.
For nineteen years (Nineteen!! But you were just born!), I have been amazed and impressed by you.
God Bless You, Baby Sister. And Happy Birthday.
And you know what? I think we do rule after all.
