It also marks the birth of my son, Adam, who was born July 1, 1980.
Twenty eight years ago, during a heat wave Indiana hadn’t seen in a long time, the temperature reaching and staying in the 100’s is when he arrived, a day before his due date. Prompt, that’s a wonderful thing to a very pregnant, swollen young mother!
He and I aren’t always on the same page at the same time, but oh, when we are, we enjoy so many things together.
He’s my creative one. The one who we all turn to when we have computer issues, the one who knows all there is to know about music and what’s new and interesting in film. He could carry on an interesting conversation full of wit and humor with a rock. (It’s true, I’ve witnessed it!) He was our man about the house while he was growing up, a house full of GIRLS, put on this earth to torment and aggravate Adam. Yeah, baby, I’m sorry about that!
My middle child, the quickest, sharpest wit, he who shared my love of corny puns, now, maybe not so much.
Seems he always got gypped on his birthday, had to share it with the whole damn nation.
Happy Birthday Son, I love you, - Mom.
He's around six (the candles are a clue) here.