Happy birthday to Sally and America (07/05/07)

It was hot, of course. It's always hot in Indiana on the Fourth of July.

But we were inside that morning, kept cool by air conditioning.

Well, maybe not all that cool. We'd been at the hospital since the night before, heading there when labor pains told Connie that our third daughter was ready to make her first appearance.

The twins were shunted off to neighbors, and we headed over to Jay County Hospital.

It was quite a contrast to the birth of our first girls. That had been back in 1977 in the old hospital building. Deliveries were done in what was essentially an operating room in surgery. It was cold, tiled, and about as welcoming as a bus station restroom.

And, in 1977, my very presence in the delivery room was unusual. It just wasn't done very much in those days.

By 1986, times had changed more than a little. The hospital still felt brand-new, and there was much more of a home-style atmosphere to the delivery room.

There was a rocking chair, as I recall.

And there was wallpaper on the walls instead of ceramic tile.

We'd arrived at the hospital about the same time as Howell and Dot Kelly, and both Connie and Dot spent most of the wee small hours in labor.

I've long forgotten who gave birth first.

Instead, I have snapshot memories of the day.

I remember the comforting voice of Dr. Alphonso Lopez as he guided my wife through the procedure.

I remember Connie saying at one point that she wasn't sure she could go through with it, drawing a soft chuckle from Dr. Lopez as he noted it was a little too late to turn back.

I remember the two of us joking later that while the rest of America was watching Elvis impersonators parachute onto Ellis Island for the centennial of the Statue of Liberty, we were witnessing the birth of our child.

That was 21 years ago, which is hard to believe.

Folks often tell young parents to cherish their children because they grow up so fast. It's a cliche, but it's absolutely true.

It never feels that way when you're changing diapers or driving to softball practice or sitting through a PTO meeting. But it's true.

One minute you're in a hospital room with a bundle of pink flesh that's new to the world. The next minute you're wondering about paying for college. And half a second later you're talking to an adult at the kitchen table instead of a child.

So, on a birthday like this, you celebrate and you marvel at the same time, that this baby, this kid, this teen-ager is now this grown-up, ready to take on the world.

Happy birthday, Sally.[[In-content Ad]]