Tuesday, July 28, 2015


Today is my oldest son's birthday. I was a mere child myself when Scott was born on this day, July 28. The following is the first couple of paragraphs in the chapter titled, "Were Those Salad Tongs?" from my memoir, From Pigtails to Chin Hairs: A Memoir & More.


The U.S. Army almost killed my newborn son and me. Actually, it wasn’t the entire Army—just a few medical personnel at William Beaumont Hospital in Ft. Bliss, Texas.

It was the end of July 1972, a week before my due date. I was swollen, bloated, and miserable. Our living room “furniture” provided zero comfort, such as it was. Two webbed lawn chairs near the black and white TV were the sum of our d├ęcor. My only alternative was to lie on our bed with its saggy, lumpy mattress.

Scott and me in Germany, 1973
As you can see from the photo above, we both made it through the horrible delivery. Scott was a plump, happy, and healthy little guy! (Ah, for me...it would be nice to be that slender again...and young, but in totally different circumstances.)
I know, too, that I wouldn't be the person I am today, had I not lived through all the ups and downs in my life, and that makes it all worth it.
Some of you will remember the very frightening time in the summer of 2010 when Scott had a burst appendix, while being in England for business. http://beckypovich.blogspot.com/2010/07/happy-birthday-scott.html
Happy Birthday, Scott! I love you humongously! J
"Grown don't mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What's that suppose to mean? In my heart it don't mean a thing." ~ Toni Morrison, Beloved, 1987
"There is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart." – Washington Irving