Wednesday, February 27, 2013


      Ma and I began around midnight, I say around because she started pushing six minutes before midnight and finished four minutes past midnight. Sometimes I say I was born on the 18th, sometimes I say I was born on the 19th, sometimes I even say I was born on both.
      Ma once told me, "Henry, you only took a few minutes to come out and you didn't even cry, not for a second, not until you laid eyes on your Pa." I have often wondered why, and why she told me that.
     Over the past 60 some odd years, I've come to realize neither the day(s) nor the lack of crying had any real significance. Except, I suspect, they may have been the canvas for my curious personality.

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