The story of his birth is a good one, as it didn't really follow our original plan. (And isn't it interesting, that I can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday, but I can remember this? In detail?) We were living in West Lafayette at the time, and I had done my prenatal visits with the father of the fiancé of a sorority sister. Follow that? He was nearing retirement, and when I saw him early the week of Thanksgiving, and asked if it was ok to travel the 2 hours to my parents' home for the holiday, he assured me it was fine, and that it would likely be longer than a week before the baby made his or her appearance. In 1982, we had to wait until the baby was born to learn if we had a boy or girl, since we didn't routinely have ultrasounds.
So we had our Thanksgiving dinner in Greensburg, complete with sugar cream pie. (A decision I would later regret.) As the evening wore on, and I realized that I was, in fact, in labor, my mom called their friend Dr. Hansen, to see if he would see me (for the first time) to deliver the baby. Of course, we now know that we could have made it back to WL in time, but being a first timer, I didn't want to risk having the baby somewhere along I-65. Many accused my mother of slipping me something to start my labor, just so that her first grandchild would be born nearby. When we arrived at the hospital, dear Dr. Hansen asked me where my mother was. When I said, "Oh, she didn't come." He calmly said, "Did you check the rear view mirror?"
By early morning, we were thrilled to welcome David John Stewart to the world! A Thanksgiving blessing. We continued to be blessed, as we took him home to our little house on Evergreen Street, and learned about being parents.
We didn't always get it right, but we made our way together, learning how a tiny little person can make your heart nearly burst with just a little grin or a sweet little hand wrapped tight around your finger.
David was a sweet, easygoing baby, and we treasured those so-short newborn days.
There were lots of smiles,
and a few messes, of course.
David's thoughtful, kind, caring personality was evident from the start. When he was about 4, he told me that he wanted to be a fire fighter when he grew up. That way, he could live next door to me, so in case my house caught on fire, he would be there to save me. My. heart.
And now, that sweet, kind, compassionate boy is a father himself,
Aunt Janet made a cross stitch that hung on the wall for many years. It said:
Little boys' pockets hold amazing things -
Fishworms, apple cores, a mess of string,
But this treasure is nothing to the wealth one finds
In little boys' hearts and little boys' minds.
Happy Birthday to my little boy. I love you, David!