My First Love

Hands Down! My mother was my first love. The earliest memories of myself was that of me pulling on my mother's skirt or dress tail, and her looking down at me with a great big smile on her face. I had the distinction of being her first-born daughter after having three sons one after the other.

I am sure that I got lots of Mom's attention in the fourteen months before the next daughter was born to Mom. That was my sister, Ruby. She was a chubby and happy child that was always doing, and eventually, as she learned to talk, saying things that kept the rest of us, Mom included, in stitches.
Being a part of a large family had it's negative aspects; but in that case, I personally do believe, the positives overrode the negatives. My Mother
loved me (us) unconditionally, and I (we) adored her, too.