It is Sept. 8 and not my birthday though I appreciated the salutations. Born 4 August, and at a mere 4 pounds 3 ounces in 1959, my lungs not yet matured, my prospects for a future uncertain, I spent a little over a month in the hospital and got released at five pounds after doctors determined I could feed and breathe satisfactorily. My mother divorced at the end of Sept, and by Nov. she and I had travelled to Florida to meet relatives before going on to the then Panama Canal Zone. She had been raised there, her siblings born there and both her parents employed there.
I've blogged a bit about this over the years but the discoveries made researching my family that led me to the exact date I came home. As indicated in my previous post, I am grateful that my maternal grandparents stepped up.
Happy Tuesday...
