Happy Birthday Daughter

It was 53 years ago today. It was the second time we had been to this Western Kentucky hospital within a week. The first visit we were told was a false start--so we went back home to wait. And then toward evening days later we drove frantically to the hospital. No false start that time.

Husbands were not permitted into the delivery room. So, with a friend who held my hand we waited for what seemed to me to be an interminable time. The Doctor came out and said, "You've got a girl and you can go in." And there was the smiling nurses holding the baby. Red-headed. Quiet--which would be her disposition all these years.

My wife roused up, "Let me see her ears." And the Nurse leaned close and showed her the ears. "Oh," my wife said, "I thought so--she has her father's ears." Not good. I often thought my Obama ears were larger than life and having little hair--there was no way to disguise my affliction. This was, of course, years before the Donald Trump coiffure. But this lttle girl would have plenty of hair.

We were told the next day that she had developed a fever, then pneumonia and we would have to go home without our baby. We were terrified even though we were told there was nothing to worry about. She was in the hospital a week. And the day my mother-in-law had to go back home--we came home with the baby knowing very little of what to do.  But a neighbor came to the rescue--some of the church members where I served helped immensely. And somehow we learned sorta how to take care of the baby.

And now today she is fifty-three years old. She has two daughters of her own. She finished college, got a Master's degree, teaches school. Teaches special education in Atlanta and those that have her as teacher are fortunate indeed.

"Who knows", as Judy Collins sang so plaintively, "Where the Time Goes?" It all has gone so fast and I look at this beautiful, talented smart woman and think, "Could this be my daughter?"

I won't bore you with the nuts and bolts of all the years that have made up her life. But this next picture captures it all. Shoes and purses--then and now. I guess you could even add a wine bottle--but that would come later.

We love her. We re proud of her. And today we thank God for all the memories and all the fun-hard times. And for Leslie just being Leslie. Happy Birthday, Daughter!

--Roger Lovette  /rogerlovetteblogspot.com