The picture above is of Aunt Cindy, my Cindy and Dad. I think the year was 1983 that the picture was taken. Aunt Cindy is one year younger than I am. When she was born, she was already an aunt to Ron, Keith and I. When she was in college, she wrote a story called, “An Only Child of Nine” as part of a college assignment. I think the year she wrote this was either 1964 or 1965. This is that story.
by Cindy Nunley
“Hi, I’m an only child of nine.” Have you ever been approached by someone making this statement? I doubt that you have but, if you had been, you would have probably overlooked it and would have taken pity on the ‘poor soul’. I have never approached anyone with quite such a statement, although in a sense that is exactly what I am. I am an only child in a family of nine.
This problem all started forty-two years ago when two young people, very much in love, were married. They were, as I am sure you have guessed by now, my parents. About a year later, a beautiful little girl was born to them and that seemed to ‘pave’ the way for the rest of the ‘happenings’. A few years later another little girl was born, they were beginning to wonder whether or not there was going to be anyone to carry on the family name. The suspense was soon ended however, for then came, what many mothers would have ‘thrown their hands up’ over, a long list of boys. There were six to be exact. Then I guess they decided to put a halt to all those little ‘happenings’. At least the worry of carrying on the family name was solved.
All went well for about seven years, at least it was all going well for the youngest boy who thought he would always have it easy being the ‘baby’ of the family. Then a very tragic and unexpected thing happened, the second little girl, who was then eighteen, was killed in a car wreck. This was very hard on my parents as our family has always been an extremely close one.
A year later another unexpected, but not dreaded, thing happened. At the age of forty-two my mother gave birth to a beautiful little baby girl. (At least they said I was beautiful.)
You are probably still wondering why I call myself an only child. Although I have six older brothers and an older sister, I have been reared alone. By the time I was old enough to appreciate my large family they were gone. However, I like the position I am in. I have all the advantages of a large family and the privilege of being an only child. Some of the most rewarding factors in being the youngest in a large family are the honors of having twenty-six nieces and nephews, a grandmother that is one-hundred and four years old, and a grandniece to whom my name was given.
These things may not seem like much to be so enthused over, but I am proud of my family and I feel that I am one of the chosen few who are fortunate enough to be ‘an only child of nine’.
Posted by Judy
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