And this time, I am older and I can remember what she looked like. I can remember what it felt like to wait for the baby to arrive. I can remember how it felt when the baby kicked her tummy.
It was exciting! And me and my two sisters knew, with every ounce and fiber of our being, that it was a boy.
My dad did not share our conviction. But, he wanted a boy. Oh, yes, he really did want a boy.
And we wanted a brother. We had sisters, and they were great, but a brother would be even cooler!
And I already knew what his name would be…
Bill, of course!
Learning how to spell “Bill” was the best thing I learned in Kindergarten.
So, I informed Mom that the baby would be a boy and his name would be Bill.
She did not agree with me. About the name anyway.
But, I didn’t let that bother me. In my mind, he was Bill and that was what he was going to be.
During Art class, I took to making family portraits. I drew every member of our family in order of birth and wrote their name over their head. Dad was first, then Mom, then me, then Maria, then Wendy, then our dog, Misty, and last, Bill. He wasn’t born yet, but he was a part of us already.
I proudly showed my drawings to my mother and father. Mom said it was inaccurate because his name wasn’t going to be Bill. Dad said it was inaccurate because the baby wasn’t a boy.
Well, we’ll see who wins this one…