would have been is my daughter’s 29th birthday.
I remember two previous ones, in particular.
The night before the day she was born, it was laundry night, and I went to the local laundromat to do the task.
This was 1983, and we didn’t have cell phones.
I arrived back home and my wife gleefully announced, “My water broke!”
I stayed calm and handled everything appropriately I went a little crazy, probably acting a like Rob Petrie in the Dick Van Dyke Show.
But, we made it to the hospital, all was okay, and at 0730 the next morning our daughter was born.
Fast-forward 12 years later, and my daughter wanted a party with her girlfriends, and with our friends.
So we had a quick get-together at my house (my wife and I had separated, but she was present) with a few adult friends (better gifts, don’t ya know!) then they left and I was herding a bunch of eleven and twelve-year-old girls who were eating snacks, drinking soda and giggling. LOTS of giggling.
After the impromptu fashion show and make-up show, I was banished to the Elba of my room while the girls watched Jurassic Park, The Bruce Lee Story, and The Mask. (my daughter was nothing if not eclectic in her cinema choices!)
Then, it was bedtime (you’ll notice I didn’t say sleeptime) and there was more giggling. Eventually all went to sleep, I think.
In the morning, I made real pancakes with real maple syrup and bacon. And the parents eventually collected the giggling brood.
The next month we were T-boned and Molly was lost. Molly was just 12.
Every birthday, every holiday, every new year is bittersweet.
At least we had her for twelve years.
Happy Birthday, Molly!