My daughters are both on another continent today, celebrating my elder daughter’s birthday together. Last year’s birthday sunset sky swirled into an enormous bird. I had forgotten that another birthday post, “In the Beginning,” described different facets of the same day. As with all our children, her dad saw her first and so I first visualized her through his words.
Before we married, Jim promised me we would have five boys.
Because I was very young, somewhat gullible, and only took college laboratory courses because I had to (notwithstanding my lack of scientific skills), I believed him.
We had two boys in under two years. Promising start.
On a windswept January day the following year we had a few extra hours on our hands: my scheduled delivery had been moved to make way for an emergency one. (I did not prove much more successful in the childbirth department than I had in the hard sciences.)
We took our toddlers to breakfast at a riverside restaurant where I managed–just barely–to slide my mid-section behind a sturdy stationary pine table where the boys laughed and gave us sticky kisses before we dropped them off to play with friends–and Winston, the venerable bulldog.
Jim had only sisters and I had only brothers, and…
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