In The Beginning....

There was a couple who met at a dance and started dating. They actually went to school together and dated for a while, marrying right after high school graduation. This couple were to become my mom and dad.

I am not sure exactly how long they dated before they married. My mom is gone and my dad doesn't remember squat (and no, he's not that old, but he's a man, so there ya go!). They did marry on June 27, 1964. My mom was only 18 and my dad was 20 years old. Not very many people marry at that age anymore, which in my opinion, is a great thing. The world is just not what it used to be. Here is a picture of my parents when they were dating :

I absolutely love my parents' wedding photo. They both look so good in it and for as old as it is, it's very clear and crisp. When my mom passed away, I wanted to put it into a nice new frame and display it alongside her casket at the funeral home. I've seen this done at many funerals. Lots of photos put up to chronicle the life of the deceased and I think it's a very special tribute to them. However, my Dad did not want me to. I am not sure why and I didn't question him, but he was very adamant not to have it there. We did put up a nice photo that I have of my mom and her 3 granddaughters (my two girls and my sisters') and it was a great way to show them how happy and healthy she once was. Anyway here is there wedding photo:

My mom and dad were married for almost 6 years before I came into the world. That is unusual for that day and age, as most people started having kids very early in age and usually right after they married. (If that was not the whole reason they married in the first place) That reason being, my dad was in the Army and travelled as far as Germany. He was there for over a year while my mom stayed here back in the states. Once he was finally discharged and returned home, I entered the scene:

I was born on January 19, 1970 at 2:40 pm in the afternoon. I weighed in at a whopping 8lbs. 8oz. My mom once jokingly told me that I interrupted General Hospital to make my entrance into the world. I always thought that was funny.

According to what was written in the photo album, I was only 1 day old here. I am not sure if I actually had been brought home that soon, or if I had only actually been home 1 day.

I love this photo of me with my mom! I will treasure it always. She looks so proud to have me and so good after giving birth. If I am not mistaken, I believe my mom suffered from post-partum depression. I am sure back then most people didn't really have that particular name for it, but I do remember my grandmother ( my dads' mom) telling me that she had the 'baby blues'. She said she loved you more than anything, but she had those baby blues. I think I remember my mom mentioning it when I had a slight case of it after giving birth to my oldest daughter.

More to come..........