Thirty-three years ago today, I was born.
If I go anywhere near my mother today, I will hear the whole story of my birth... again. I know it by heart. I guess I should by now. Sometimes, I just tune in and out. My mother went into labor... I was her second baby and she was nervous... she didn't know if she could ever love anyone as much as she loved my sister, her first baby... the love she felt had taken her breath away... the selfless purity and depth of that love- it was like all parts of her- her body, heart, mind and soul- were firing all at once... she KNEW in that moment- without hesitation, without even being asked- that she was willing to die for this person... after all those months of growing, after all those hours separating from each other... she held me and laughed at how silly she had been... she learned that love comes from an infinite place... she had more than enough love... she loves me... I weighed 10lbs 1.5oz... I didn't look that big my mom always says... the nurses tried a couple different scales... I was also 23 inches long... that's probably why it was hard to tell... my dad brought a bag of pacifiers to the hospital, all proud of himself... my sister loved those things and only gave them up after she chewed them apart when she was teething... they popped a pacifier in my mouth... I popped it back out at them... I taught them I am my own person... they learned... my sister, Amy, is about 18 months older... she loved to hold me... she called me "Baby Joy"... she stole my pacifiers for herself... she chewed them up... my sister was born with hair...
I was born bald... I am bald again...
Today, I am 33 years old!
My Driver's license had to be renewed this year.
I don't want a bald picture for the next 4 years.
So here I am...
on my way to the DMV.
I figured somebody would ask me to take off the hair I bought at Party City on clearance for a couple dollars. I wanted to make sure somebody did not feel like crap when I pulled the wig off to reveal my bald head AND my cancer diagnosis. I brought the fun with me. The woman behind the desk asked how they got my hair all those different colors.
I am happy to report nobody's feelings were hurt at all.
A week later, I opened the mail.
My new ID!