Life in Words
My earliest memory is of my brother's birth. He is a little over 2 years younger than me. He was born just 3 days before Christmas. The family story is about how my father was on his way to a company Christmas party when my mother went into labor. When the baby was born, the hospital left a message at the restaurant, as my Dad had no yet arrived, but several of my Dad's friends got the message first and headed to the hospital to see the new baby, the first boy. As the story goes, they all claimed parentage to have a chance to see the baby first.
In my memory, I am walking with my father, bundled up in a winter coat, up a very long set of stairs to the doors of the hospital. It's cold and there is snow on the edges of the stairs. Then there was a nurse, handing me a tiny sled with candy and a popcorn ball (which I had never see the likes of before). She said "This is a Christmas present from your new baby brother." And so ends the memory.
Welcome! I’m Joanne and this is my little corner of the internet. Thanks for stopping by!
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