My younger sister Mary was born this day 29 years ago. BYU was in yet another Holiday Bowl, and my dad was excited that my mom went into labor the same time as the Holiday Bowl, because he could watch the game in the lobby while my mom delivered the baby. These were the old days, folks. My mom says dads weren't expected to be in the delivery room. My dad saw one of his children, the oldest, be born, but he almost passed out. And even though he spawned nine more children, the delivery room was a stranger to him.
Growing up, Mary was my closest confidant. We shared the same room for about four years, me on the top bunk and she on the bottom bunk. We'd read stories together every now and again. And we'd laugh a lot together. And we cried a lot together. We both had the same sense of humor, the same sense of dread, the same sense of justice and injustice in the world; even the same affinity for boys. One of our favorite games was to lie next to each other on mom and dad's bed and pretend we were laughing until we really did start laughing.
Mary was my wing-man. She was always a good sport to tag along with me along all my adventures. I'd even bring her along with me on dates. When I was dating Kulani, I asked Mary to create a mix CD full of awesome love songs for me to give to Kulani. She delivered in fine form. She was the ultimate secretary, always helping me with special requests and tasks.
When Mary was young, she was known for her big brain. She loved to study medical books my grandma gave her and share her knowledge with us pea-sized brains. Her goal was to become a doctor. But somewhere between freshman year of pre-med at BYU and taking the film appreciation class, she switched majors to that super-lucrative film studies program. She later earned her master's degree in library sciences while mothering her first child.
Now she's married with two kids of her own and lives far away in a land named after Indiana Jones. If I could, I would be her secretary for a week; fetching glasses of water, changing diapers, or changing out DVDs of her all-time favorite movies: It's a Hard Day's Night, Pretty in Pink, and Reality Bites (at least, those were her favorite movies when we used to spend Saturdays watching movies). But instead, she's getting this blog post. Happy birthday, Marester! I hope you know how much I dig you; to your very core.
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6 comments:
THANK YOU!!!!
And Dad was in the delivery room when I was born. And he did pass out. They had to use the forceps to get me out and Dad said that it was one of the only times he heard Mom really act like she was in pain -- he thought she was dying and he passed out. Mom says she did think she was dying -- it hurt like crazy -- Dad saw the pain on her face and it was too much for him.
Happy birthday mary! We need to get you into the blogging world! I bet it would be awesome!
Cindy -- this was a great post.
Mary -- you are awesome. While you were Cindy's "wing-man," I think you were my replacement. I was so tired of babysitting by the time you came along that I think you had to start way too early. I'll always remember you changing diapers when you were 6 or 7. Why can't I get Grace to do that?! I love you!
Here's the thing... If I were to rank in order who did the most in the Christenson family growing up, my order would be thusly:
1. Mary
2. Cindy
3. Amy
4. Kathy
5. The boys
6. Hetty.
I beat out Amy? Yes! And here's my reasoning: Amy had a paid job, outside the family business, by the time she was 12 or 13, which enabled her to quit the family business ("every time I think I'm out, they drag me back in"). Plus, she was heavily involved in extra-curricular activities by seventh grade. I was the one to pick up the slack. I was babysitting all the little kids, with Mary's help, by the time I was 9 when Mom and all the older kids went to mutual. And I helped in the family business longer than Amy and Mary. And Mary had that year off when she went to Germany. But I still think Mary did more than me. I think we'll total it up in heaven to make it official. Don't be surprised, however, if I really do make it to the top. Zing!
True dat -- I did do a lot. And I got the bonus points for being your assistant when you were doing the most. I was not so lucky... dang that Hetty.
Have you ever asked anyone about how they did laundry when they were kids? Most kids will say their parents did it or they did it themselves. I've very rarely come across a kid that did it Christenson style -- gathering up everyone's dirty laundry, sorting them into very specific piles (permanent press, light play clothes, dark play clothes, whites, towels), and doing it all. Luckily by the time we got to the Carlot, there were two washers and driers, but the shop washer could get gunked up with oil so you had to proceed with caution with that one.
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