My mother sent me this letter on my 32 birthday.
“32 years ago on July 16, 1945, we received a God-given gift, a son.
Weight: 6 lbs. 13 oz.
Length: 20 inches
Head: 14 inches
Shoulders: 13 1/4 inches
Chest: 12 inches
You didn’t have any eyelashes or fingernails for about 2 weeks because you were born a few weeks early. Your skin was olive and so soft and smooth. Your eyes were dark blue when we could see them. You had dark brown hair.
You were a sleepy little boy that didn’t care if he had his bottle or not. The nurses would snap your little cheeks with their finger until I objected and asked for cold wet cloth to wipe your face to wake you up. I don’t remember you taking your full quota of milk for several weeks. You felt it was more important to sleep, so you slept more than usual for the first month of your life.
Your birthday, July 16, was our choice. Dr. John R. Evans had given us a week from which to choose a date. You were born by Caesarean section.
You were born in Denver, Colorado at St. Luke’s hospital. During the time you were delivered, your dad stayed in the father’s room, where hundreds of fathers had written their thoughts in big books while waiting for their child to be born.
Later when your dad came to visit us each day, he would wait outside the iron-gate that separated the maternity ward from the hospital. His favorite hospital story concerns the gypsy mother that was brought to the hospital because the grandfather could not deliver her at the camp.
We went home on the 9th day where your little sister anxiously awaited your homecoming. Carolyn was thrilled, she thought you were better than any of her dolls.
It’s 32 years later now and we feel more than ever that we were given a special little boy to love and cherish.”
I cherish Mom’s foresight to pen these memories to enjoy for the rest of my life.