Fourth of July, 1977

Almost forty-one years ago, wow, am I that much older now? Yes, math doesn’t lie. Almost forty-one years ago, it was much like a day today is.
Hot, real hot and humid. I was in my twenties. I was married and had a little girl named Rachael Wagner who was five. I lived on the outskirts of Warsaw back then.
I was only days from introducing a new baby into the world. The world seemed quiet then compared to the noise today. I was happy. I had a wonderful husband, a daughter who smiled all the time.
My parents and grandparents were still alive. Prices were more even with the economy. This was the time period when we had the blizzard of 1977.
I delivered a baby boy in less than twenty minutes with no real pain; I swear I am telling the truth here! A piece of cake, a real fire cracker baby, born on July fourth. My last son, Randy Weaver, was a real corker at being born, but it was well worth it.
Life sure has changed. My daughter lives out of state. I have one son who lives very near me and another son who lives less than an hour from here.
I have I think, eleven grandchildren. I am no longer married. I have lost my parents, grandparents and brother. I am different from this, but also more in touch with who I am.
I live for times, texts or phone calls from my children. I love my camera, writing and painting. I love peace and quiet. I hate my short-term memory that is showing its ugly teeth more and more.
I am far from rich, but rich in riches. I am blessed. I love my kids and grandchildren. I am lucky. Happy birthday, Ryan Weaver.

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