Happy Birthday, Chickie!

Today is my one and only favorite son's birthday.

28 years ago, Bob and I were living at George AFB, just outside Victorville, California. I had gone into labor Friday afternoon, just after my regularly scheduled OB visit earlier that morning. Bob and I had gone to Lamaze classes and thought we were prepared for the long haul. Just how long a haul it would be was a huge surprise to us both. Stephen finally made his entrance around 8am on Sunday morning, after over 40 hours of labor. Just a few months ago, while going through a box of Bob's papers, I came across a log book where Bob had noted all the times and durations of my contractions. Amazing.

Stephen was a long and thin jaundiced bundle of joy who spent the first week in an incubator under bright lights. His eyes were covered with gauze patches to protect them from the lights and he looked like a little orange fly. We called him our little Chiclet gumball and that soon became just Chickie.

He has continued growing tall and has, through a personal discipline reminiscent of his father's, maintained his thin physique. He eats well and takes good care of himself. He has already run one full marathon and will be running the Los Angeles Marathon on March 2.

He is determined, calm, compassionate, self-assured, content. And like his dad, he never lets me forget that I am loved.

His Daddy would be proud of him.