Sweet Allie

Sweet Allie

     There really never was a time when Julie and John did not have Allie.  In only their second year of knowing each other, my daughter and her then boyfriend did what college kids do when they think they may have met the love of their lives:  get a dog together.  

     Puppies are the first engagement rings.  Not quite as expensive.  A good primer for the challenges that will come in the years ahead should the couple stay together.  Their Allie taught them about patience, commitment, loyalty, and love.  All of those the ingredients they would need to grow not just in their love for her but in their love for each other.

     For fourteen years, this beautiful Boxer faithfully followed their regimen and routine (except when I came to visit and let her jump up in my bed after they went to work--it was fun disobeying Julie). The rest of the family swore that sometimes Allie's paw made this motion to salute when Julie walked by.
    But, oh, how Allie was loved by two individuals who were as bound to her as she was to them.
    They were family.      
    A family that is now smaller, as Allie's 14 years of curling up at the end of their bed are over.
 
    May they remember Allie's puppy-ness that in the beginning gave them a common focus, her wagging stub of a tail that greeted them every day when they walked in the door, and her unconditional devotion to her favorite people on this earth.

    "I want old love, the kind that takes years, to turn to gold love...."

     I pray Julie and John will experience this kind of love with each other fifty years from now.
     And they can thank the sweetest Boxer that ever lived for preparing them for their own golden moments.

When the Baby of the Family Turns 50

On September 5, 1966--which was also a Monday and a Labor Day (a double entendre for Mother Lillie)--Sabrina Anne Sullivan rounded out the line-up for our family.

She broke the gender tie as the girls were now up 3-2 with no chance for the boys to make a comeback. Our family--started in 1954 with Scotty's entry--was now complete, other than the numerous animals that would turnstyle through our backyards.

Today, this baby turns 50, and we are in denial.

The youngest in the family is supposed to be ageless, isn't she?  Sabrina kept Christmas toyfest going longer for all of her siblings.  If she believed, we all got the goods. If she cried when hurt, it could be a nice diversion for a teenager who was on the cusp of some serious scolding for a totally unrelated situation.  Little girl Sabrina had gymnastics, dance, softball--good excuse for teenage siblings to ask for a car in order to develop our altruistic gifts.  Of course.

Sabrina and her older brother by only 19 months--that would be Mr. Shane, pictured below licking a fudge pan as he still does to this very day--kept us all young. That was their job.

I don't want her to catch up with her aging siblings.  Give us that Danskin look, that ducked head with a shy smile,  those sleepy eyes lying in bed with her "Whitey," the beloved stuffed animal that one night just "flew away."  I want to relive hearing little feet hitting the floor, running from the room to get Mother because her prankster sisters were throwing up, which of course we were not (but mine and Sara's sound effects were excellent).   Sabrina fell for it every time, at least until Mother did not think it was so excellent to be interrupted from the only 15 minutes of alone time that she probably had at night.

Because Sabrina refused all suggestions, requests, pleadings, and threats from her siblings to throw her a big party, we are not celebrating together.  Unlike her siblings who enjoy any chance to shine through entertaining or performing, Sabrina just left town with her family.  That's what babies do--get their own way.  She wasn't like that as a real baby.  She was so placid and peaceful and quiet and even keel and compliant (as noted in the above story about vomit).  Actually, today, she carries many of those same beautiful qualities, although I have witnessed her get a bit rowdy when her Atlanta Braves are playing.  

Nope, I am not ready for Sabrina to reach this milestone.  Partly because it makes me feel older, which I am by a longshot, but also because she is our last thread to childhood.  To youth.  To days of playing outside and watching out for her. Sabrina is our reminder of the happiness we lived on Hill Avenue before we all grew up....the youngest who handed out Christmas presents with an assist from Shane, the last to attend East Elementary before it was torn down, the last to get her driver's license, to go to prom, the one who drove off to college signaling an end to our family's public school attendance from 1960 to 1985.    

 As a middle school history teacher extaordinaire, Sabrina's age is now a bonus for the students fortunate to be in her classes. Her older perspective, experience, and passion for history are now adding up to give her "babies" the best educational experience they can imagine.  She is almost old enough to retire. Did I just write that?  Time will not honor my request for this Labor Day baby to remain young in years, nor should it because her wisdom is serving to help so many students during those challenging middle school years.

Think I'll  request an audience with the birthday girl when she gets home from The Calculated Escape, act like a baby myself and say, "Hey, your Braves are in last place by 25 games. Happy Birthday!" That's what she gets for skipping out and also for not being a Yankees fan.