Happy Birthday to my most MATURE and WISE sister Marci (I thought she’d prefer that to actually revealing her age even though she’s still a young whipper-snapper)! As I’ve already declared in a previous post, I always wanted to be like Marci. She always had perfect boofy hair and did everything that I wanted to do (wrote in her journal, was drum-major, went to Ricks, got married, had cute babies, etc.). I don’t actually have a ton of memories of her being around, but her example was always present.
One thing I do remember was when I was around 8 or 9 years old. I had just gotten in a fight with Miles and TOOK A WALK (this is still debatable in our family) down Riverdock Road to the other road where the school bus always turned around. Somehow I was gone for quite some time. Apparently someone called Mom and told her I ran away and they couldn’t find me. Eventually, on my way back from my walk, Mom pulled up in the big brown van to take me home (which was less than a 1/2 mile away).
To make a long story short (too late), when I got back Marci had written a letter for me to find in our room and she told me how much she loved me no matter what anyone else said or did. I still have that note in my journal. I always knew that Marci loved me and I’ve always been so grateful for that since it probably would have been easy to hate us all because she had to take care of us a lot.
Marci has also taken several trips to Arizona just to hang out with me and do one of my favorite things . . . SCRAPBOOK! I don’t know if she’s actually forced into coming just to appease me, but I’m sure happy when she comes!
And even though I wasn’t grateful for it then, I’m glad Marci never let us bring the cats in the house. You’re a good woman. Happy Birthday Sissy!
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