In Praise of Youngest Daughters

We lost another one today.

Kris lost her fight with cancer today, six months and a few days after Barbara lost hers, and one day short of the three year anniversary of my mother’s death. All three of them were youngest daughters.  Maybe that helped explain why they all got along so splendidly.

Youngest daughters are charmers. It’s how they learn to survive being surrounded by bigger people, because let’s face it, older siblings can be cruel.

They are doting mothers, because as the youngest, that’s the treatment they got.

They are usually the smartest one in the room, because they were always trying to keep up with the big kids.

They love the theater, because all the rest of what they are primes them for it.

And oh, can they make conversation.

It’s a lucky man who gets charmed by a youngest daughter, the women who never forget the joys of being a girl even when they have to be adult. The ones who know how to get just the right mix of silly and profound. The ones who steal your heart but never break it.

The ones you will never forget, even after they are gone.