75's a Good Number

    Today is my birthday and I'm a proud and happy 75. I don't think much about aging and how old I am or how much life I have left. I've enjoyed my 75 years. I will enjoy what's left and not worry about it.

    What I do like to think about on my birthday is my birth.

    I was the first born child for my Mom and Dad. They were in their mid 20's and were the young generation which lost heavily in the great depression. Mom worked as a house maid and stayed home with her parents. Dad roamed around and picked fruit, worked in the bush and sawmill. worked on a dairy and did as many day jobs as he could find. He stayed with friends and relatives. 

    My Dad was able to buy a small farm and this is what he took my Mom to when they got married. There were only country doctors and the nearest hospital was 40 miles away. Most children were born at home. I imagine my mother was somewhat terrified as there was really very little expertise as far as delivery was concerned. The old doctor had much experience but nothing to work with. Mom's two friends came to be with her. My birth went smoothly , the doctor left and Mom's two friends took over. 

    It was a very warm fall day. Dad said the house got hot when the old cook stove was used to heat up lots of water for my delivery.

    I like to think about the mixture of excitement and fear my Mom and Dad had when I was born. The story of my birth was told many times. I was born in the house and both parents shared the experience. 

    So it makes me happy to reflect on my birth once again.