Remembering

Holly's 30 now! That is a big deal. When she was diagnosed, the average life expectancy was 18, and for so long, I was afraid to hope for more. Now here she is at 30 and doing well. She has her problems and flare-ups, but overall, she is really healthy. Praise God!

When I called Holly to wish her a happy birthday (she's in Alabama, I'm in Texas), I could tell by her voice that she was jazzed to be 30, so unlike many women who hate the thought of moving past their 20's. It's just so different with CF and all its statistics staring us in the face.

Every time one of my girls has a birthday, I remember back to the day of her birth. It was no different this year. I remembered when I realized I was in labor -- shortly after my husband and my cousin's husband had decided to go to stock car races. I had urged him to go, saying something like, "You might as well go and have fun. I'm never going into labor." Ha! In those days before cell phones, we had no way of reaching them, so five hours later at around midnight, my cousin and I were just about to leave for the hospital, 60 miles away, when the guys rolled in. They were covered in dirt, mud and grease, but my husband and I headed on out the door for the hospital. I'll never forget the sound of that little 4-cylinder engine whining as we flew along the highway back to Dallas.

Holly finally arrived, after an easy labor, at 7:06 a.m. on May 13th 1979: Mother's Day. Once again this year, I thought back to my first glimpse of her when a nurse put the tiny person all swaddled in pink in my arms. I remembered how good it felt to hold her -- so soft and warm. She was absolutely beautiful with perfect features even though she was scrunching up her little nose and mouth. I treasure the memory-video that replays itself in my mind when I think of that day, and I pray it never fades with age.

Thanks for the memories, Holly. This one and all the others that follow after. You will always be my special girl.