Now I really am on countdown. I have a niece who is 5 weeks and 3 days older than me. She had her special birthday in January, and her party at the weekend, which means it will soon be my turn. Just in case I had forgotten, she keeps sending me texts which say 'you're next'. Her Mum is my sister. My sister and my Mum were both pregnant at the same time, back in 1969, which must have been quite an unusual occurence. But how fantastic! In the first picture, I am on the left, she is holding my hand.
My niece and I are very different - she is blonde, I am dark. She is left handed, I am right (always..) She is slim, I am not. We were never in competition, although there were of course times when we did the same things at the same time. We went to the same infant school, although we were in different classes. The other kids knew we were related but could never quite get their heads around how. We weren't especially close, but we spent lots of time together. The second photo was taken at my Christening and I am in the centre, with my Mum. She is on the left with her Mum. And on the right, is her big sister, being held by my big brother.
I think we were probably enemies by the time the third photo was taken, although momentarily united by the thrill of having our photo taken. I would imagine that we were told we had to put our shoes on first, and mine were probably lost so I had to wear slippers, and she was probably so excited at the prospect that she put hers on the wrong feet. I love this photo so much. I can remember what those slippers felt like, and how much I liked my polyester dress. And even the garden behind us. My Mum got fed up with it being a wilderness and one day, hired a rotavator, dug it over and then planted grass seed. She didn't mess about!
When we were little, having our picture taken was still quite a special event. Photography was my Dad's hobby, and we probably had more photos than the average family at that time. He developed them at home, and I think he used the cupboard under the stairs as a dark room. I have no idea how he managed to fit under there as he was very tall, and even I used to struggle to squeeze in there when, aged 6, it was transformed into a car while I played driving schools, sitting on the hoover with a dressing gown belt tied around me for a seatbelt.
When we were about 8, my niece and her family moved away to a big new house over the other side of town. We still saw each other regularly, but no longer lived in each others' pockets. We became friends again as teenagers, and went to stay with my brother and his wife in the Isle of Man when we were 14. That was our first big adventure, travelling by coach from Northampton to Birmingham, and then up to Liverpool to catch a boat across the Irish Sea. Our visit coincided with a big sports festival and we met a couple of lovely Irish boys who livened up our trip. She wasn't so taken with hers, but mine was very nice, and not dissimilar to Mr C; my tastes haven't changed at all. Hers thought she was called Cassidy, which she quite liked, and in the middle of the night, she shouted out in her sleep "My name is Cassidy", and I laughed so much I nearly wet the bed.
A few years later, in 1987 we got married 6 weeks apart. Both of us had big white weddings with all the trimmings, and moved into our first starter homes, only a mile or so apart. We followed different paths, mine a bit bendier than hers with a couple more weddings, but she shared the dance floor with me at my 40th birthday, and we even managed another photo together - although this time her shoes were on the right feet.
And on Saturday night, I joined the rest of her family and thousands of her friends to celebrate her 50th birthday, and we shared the dance floor once again, although I did have to sit down a few times to catch my breath. But she danced all night, and sparkled and dazzled, and made a lovely impromptu speech, without crying or stuttering. I am in awe of her her, and hope that I will be able to celebrate my own 50th with half the grace and aplomb. She has paved the way, as she has done throughout my life, always a few weeks ahead, always there. What a smasher!
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