August 29, 1964

Happy Anniversary 

Mom and Dad. Mary and Lloyd. Sister and Elder. Grandma and Grandpa. 

"Mom, who is your best friend?"

"Your dad."

"I thought it was Patti."

"No. I married my best friend."

a different kind of mission

two years ago, i (with sobs and heavy feet carrying a heavy heart) left this:

*no, not a cultural hall - my mission*

and i came (still sobbing) to this:

*no, not Haystack Rock - the Pacific NW*

i said good-bye to sisters like them:

and i said hello to sisters like them:

i said goodbye to children like these little ruffians:

and i now chase around the affectionally named "Portland Monkeys":

i had to stop trying to be cool around teenagers like these:

and i had to learn to be the effortlessly cool aunt to teenagers like these:

i could no longer wear clothes like this:

but i am now expected to put something like this on:

i said good-bye to some pets:

but i was greeted with joyful barking and uncontrollable peeing by pets like these:

i ended my mission with a birthday like this:

and i ended two years home with a birthday like this:

happy anniversary. 

For Rachel

After celebrating 27 birthdays together, my twin and I have settled into a routine regarding birthday salutations and gifts. For example, around August 5th, we usually have the following conversation:

Me: So...what do you want for your birthday? *translation: It's in three days and because of my lack of money/imagination/time/sentimentality, I haven't purchased anything for you yet*
Rachel: Um, I don't know. What do you want? *translation: I can't think of what to get you, much less what I want.*
Me: I'll think of something. *translation: You think of something for me to get you and then I'll have an idea of what I want*
Rachel: Yeah. I'll think of something. *translation: I see what you're doing. YOU pick something first, THEN I'll pick something.*

At this point, the conversation usually meanders to other topics and the birthday present issue isn't addressed until the day of. When other family members/friends are handing in their gifts.

Me (looking up from a recently unwrapped present): Hey, I haven't bought yours yet. *translation: You never told me what you wanted. This happens every year.*
Rachel (pausing in unwrapping a gift): Yeah, I didn't get yours either. Yet. *translation: Well, you never told me either. It is just as much your birthday/responsibility as it is mine.*
Me and Rachel (in unison): Let's go to Target/Barnes and Noble/Borders/any close and inexpensive store and buy each other's presents tomorrow. *translation: Let's spend our own money on what we want and call it presents from each other.*

Happy Birthday Rachel Lucinda Randall. The best twin/sister/friend/accomplice in teasing Mom and Dad/co-babysitter for our 21 nieces and nephews/roommate/shopping partner/running inspiration/and birthday sharer anyone could have.

The "Newblett"

Before she is fed/or after someone puts her down/or if her favorite aunt j.g.r. has to leave/or when someone is holding her but SITTING down/or before she is fed again/or when she senses her mommy will put her down/or if her sisters aren't making her laugh/or if her daddy is working too hard/or if her brother isn't making her tiny tufts of hair into a faux hawk.....

we see this:

But after her tummy is full/or her sisters are by her side/or her brother is grabbing the crisco to style her hair/or her mother is holding her and resolving to never let her go, even if she has to weed, clean, paint, drive, and run/or her daddy is kicking back with some mt. dew/or her favorite aunt j.g.r. is walking through the door to pick her up.....

we see this: