August 2. The birthday of my little sister, a beautiful summer day, bringing into our house a lively revival of the days my parents probably thought were in their distant past-- an infant to care for, and to love and nurture.
My sister, Vee, and I at this time in our lives, being ten and thirteen, probably thought we were pretty much (half) grown.
My parents had first thought to name the child "Grace," for they deemed it true that it was by the grace of God that this miracle had visited them in their advancing years. Dad, though, always looking at all the angles, feared that as she grew up she would be called "Gracie Lacy." For some reason, he did not find this to be a pleasing prospect, so they chose instead to name the child after a good friend.
Sister and I were pretty excited to have a baby sister, and since the responsibilty for her ultimate welfare rested with the parents, we had a sweet deal going. I left home before she started kindergarten, and thus did not really get to know Ilene until years later, and that in our adult lives. Happy Birthday, Ilene.
I posted a birthday tribute a year ago here.