Mom was pregnant when I was eleven. Nancy cuddled her doll baby in eager expectation. The still-birth hit her hard she tells me now. But I was carefree, dashing across the street to Doreen's house to watch Mickey Mouse Club or pre-occupied on the sidewalk for hours keeping the hula hoop whirling on my waist. There were memorable times with Mom: May walks in Lilac Park; summer picnics and camping; singing in the car on the way home. Best of all were our Skip-a-Cross games after the younger kids were in bed. Yet most times I was content alone or with my friend Alice whose tree we climbed.