I have a very vague memory of sitting at someone’s house in Kingston, Tennessee, and talking to an older lady on the phone about how we were moving back north to Evansville. I was around three years old and I’m pretty sure it’s the earliest memory I can recall. But it’s so vague, it’s more like a snapshot.
The next-oldest memory I can remember is much more vivid. I remember standing in the hospital and looking into a big picture window with a family member (maybe Grandmama? That part, I’m not so sure 0f). I remember watching people in their scrubs walking around in the room. And I remember Dad walking into the room with scrubs and talking to one of the nurses. Then I remember a lady coming out of the big room I’d been looking into through a picture window. She had the same scrubs on.
“Are you excited to see your new baby brother?” she asked me.
I don’t think I said anything. I was shy. But I was also speechless. Kinda tough for a three year-old. But I did nod furiously. I was, in fact, excited that my baby brother was born. He was behind the picture-window because he was born early. I didn’t realize until a few years ago just how early he was, and how big of a deal that really was (and still is).
That was 31 years ago today.
And I’m still excited about my baby brother. Most of the time. 😉
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