I'm one day early, but the way things tend to unfold, I wanted to get this down on - er - paper...virtual paper...digital paper...ASAP.


What I remember is standing at my parents' front door when I was 5 years old. My mom, I think, was standing next to me in the red, red, RED living room, and I stared out into the night sky and caught a glimpse of a single star. Or maybe it was the moon.

For the purposes of the story, it was a star.

I said aloud:

Star light, star bright
first star I've seen tonight,
I wish I may,
Iwish I might,
have this wish
I wish tonight.

I closed my eyes, and, propped up in the doorframe in my tiger-striped jammies, I wished for a little brother or sister.

This is one of the most vivid memories of my young life.

I pictured playing and tumbling with a younger sibling; shoving eachother down on the grass, inflating the pool and splashing around, playing catch if it was to be a brother, breaking dolls' necks be it a sister. Lo and behold, one year later, I was told that the McGarrys were to be introduced to a new family member: Mom was preggers.

Our Dad recollects waiting for her to go into labor, and as they carted Mom out of her room to deliver the long-awaited babychild, "The Bridge on the River Kwai" played on the television. It was during the pivotal March to the death railway camp scene, and Dad was torn between dashing out to help deliver his 2nd born and watching the brave soldiers march to their certain deaths (a family classic tale that has been spun time and again).

My own memory is being wakened by our grandmother early one morning with the phrase, "It's a girl!" being uttered in a thick Italian dialect. Half-asleep and completely confused, it took a few seconds to sink in, but once it did, I remember being excited to finally meet my little sis, and then realized that sometimes, wishes do come true.

Tomorrow, Renee hits 30 years of age: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EmNay!