I am the oldest daughter. I am not sure it is an easy spot, but I hear being the youngest or in the middle has its own set of drawbacks. My own oldest daughter celebrated her birthday today. In New York City. Far from me.
Don't get me wrong. We managed to celebrate early while we were there over Thanksgiving. It was a blast to walk the park, see the Macy's parade, take in Jazz at Lincoln Center. But on the actual birthday, now that it has arrived, we are all missing each other.
Becky called sad and weepy from a cold dreary apartment. Drew (3rd born son) called within 5 minutes from sunny South Carolina with a flat tire. Finding help in a new city on a Sunday is not the easiest proposition and he was frustrated. Ruthanne (youngest daughter) then phoned in from Vienna with 102ยบ temp wondering which medicines to take first. It was time to parent from afar. Grateful for the technology that allows the conversations. Wishing I could give a hug in person. Not today...
Instead a cup of tea, fire in the fireplace and football viewing will fill my quiet afternoon. Maybe a bit of present wrapping and follow up texts with the kids. Missing them all is a huge part of this season of my life.
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