My cousin happened to send me this morning an electronic copy of a telegram sent in 1952 announcing the birth of "Janice", who turned out to be a boy, my brother Gary.
Strangely, I don't seem to have been aware that my parents were hoping for a girl named Janice. I was aware, however, that my father would have preferred to have a girl and ended up with two boys instead. I know that I was certainly glad to find, as I popped up two years later, that I had a brother rather than a sister. What is a boy supposed to do with an older sister, anyway? On the other hand, I suppose that I might have benefitted from the presence of a female sibling in the sense that it would have provided more of a knowledge of that sort of critter before I grew into adolescence and thus better prepared me for the years ahead.
My dad probably would have been better off with girls, honestly. He was not really great at showing affection for boys and would likely have benefitted in his own person from the sort of affection shown to a father by a daughter. As it was, he did his best to raise us to be men, and had little patience for boy sorts of things. I know that the little daughters of friends of my family adored my father, and I remember thinking, along with my brother, 'What the hell, are you crazy?'
Having raised three boys and two girls myself, I know the vast difference between daughters and sons, and that there's something to be said for both. And I'm glad to have enjoyed that balance as an adult. There's nothing like being loved by a girl, and there's nothing like being loved by a boy; and the two loves in themselves are both totally complete and totally different.
So, Janice, I am sorry to have never met you, for I have missed your tender care and laughter, especially, I think, in my latter years.
Strangely, I don't seem to have been aware that my parents were hoping for a girl named Janice. I was aware, however, that my father would have preferred to have a girl and ended up with two boys instead. I know that I was certainly glad to find, as I popped up two years later, that I had a brother rather than a sister. What is a boy supposed to do with an older sister, anyway? On the other hand, I suppose that I might have benefitted from the presence of a female sibling in the sense that it would have provided more of a knowledge of that sort of critter before I grew into adolescence and thus better prepared me for the years ahead.
My dad probably would have been better off with girls, honestly. He was not really great at showing affection for boys and would likely have benefitted in his own person from the sort of affection shown to a father by a daughter. As it was, he did his best to raise us to be men, and had little patience for boy sorts of things. I know that the little daughters of friends of my family adored my father, and I remember thinking, along with my brother, 'What the hell, are you crazy?'
Having raised three boys and two girls myself, I know the vast difference between daughters and sons, and that there's something to be said for both. And I'm glad to have enjoyed that balance as an adult. There's nothing like being loved by a girl, and there's nothing like being loved by a boy; and the two loves in themselves are both totally complete and totally different.
So, Janice, I am sorry to have never met you, for I have missed your tender care and laughter, especially, I think, in my latter years.
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