Twenty-one years ago today I was in Providence, Rhode Island, visiting some friends before our senior year of college began. We went to a movie (Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, I’ll never forget) and when we got back to their apartment there was a note on the door:
“Ilene: You’re an aunt. Julie Samantha was born at….”
(I don’t remember the exact time or her birth weight).
Wow! My first niece, or niecelette as I called her because she was to tiny. By the time I got in the car and drove back to NJ, she was already at home. I remember how scared I was to hold her–she was so tiny, new, and fragile.
And now? Well, now, she’s twenty-one and just back from a summer internship at The Onion in San Francisco. She’s pledge mom at her sorority and president of the public relations club at her college. It seems like just yesterday she was a mop-headed toddler crawling around at my college graduation.
So, from my mop-headed toddler to the original niecelette, by special request:
Happy Birthday, Julie!