Sunday, September 29, 2013

September 29, 1977

A call to the office in high school, I was sixteen in my junior year. A phone call waited for me. My mother told me my second niece was born out in California. I skipped through the halls and told everyone. I even scooted into the pay phone to call my boyfriend. He cooked at a restaurant, so I woke him. He pretended to care in his sleepy haze.
I think we thought Diane wouldn't ever have children, but anticipation mounted. Debbie would be nine in January. We needed another baby in the family. I look back now and see Diane and Herman only were married five years with the first two in the military in far off places like Okinawa and Thailand, then finishing in Florida. They did their time in Wyoming University married student housing while Herman graduated pharmacy school. Why were we anxious? We love babies.
Michelle Diane entered our world, but we wouldn't see her till Christmas. A long trip to California never entertained by my parents, at least in my presence. I longed to see her, but pictures in snail mail sufficed. I felt so proud.
Later that evening, I sat in the living room with my parents. An anonymous phone caller chided me for being so excited in telling everyone about my niece. He didn't care if John Smith had been born. I hung up the phone startled that anyone wanted to steal the innocent joy of a new addition to a family. Did it hurt anyone?
I walked down the halls at the high school the next day, looking at everyone, wondering if they all felt that way. Should I have kept my mouth shut? I don't think so. No one else ever made fun of my excitement. Nor would I ever joke about someone's joy.
I still celebrate life. Grandparents sharing newborn baby pictures on Facebook gives me pleasure.
I'm truly proud of my niece, Michelle and the wonderful mother she became with her three darling children. I wish still I could be with her. Happy Birthday, Michelle, my bell.
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