From birth I have been lucky in love. My parents were in their 40’s when I was born. They both had lived other lives by the time they got married. They’d learned life lessons, made the mistakes of youth. They’d been scarred and battered. And then I came along. A surprise. A chance to “get it right”, to savor every moment, to enjoy being a parent. As they left the hospital with me, a nurse told them they were the happiest parents she had seen. My dad sang silly songs about the ‘apple of his eye”, his little “skeeter-eater”, as he planted corn that spring. My mom filled our old farmhouse with warmth and safety and delicious food.
They were children of the Great Depression and WWII rationing. I wasn’t spoiled with things, but was surrounded by kindness and love, songs while washing dishes, stories while loading hay, laughter over tea and always a safe place to come home to.