My mom is a great story teller. I love to hear her stories of growing up on the farm in Upson County. She came last weekend for my birthday, and was telling a story I’d never heard.
The subject of syrup somehow came up, and she shared that she and her father ended every meal with ribbon cane syrup and a biscuit.
“No matter what we had for the meal or dessert, we always had to end our meal with biscuit and syrup. It became our tradition.” Just she and her dad.
She also retold the story of having her first child. Married in 1952, my mom and dad could not get pregnant. Two different doctors told her she’d never have children.
My mom started feeling tired, and a co-worker suggested she might be anemic and should get her hemoglobin checked. So she went to the doctor, her hemoglobin was low, and the doctor asked if she might be pregnant.
“I told him I couldn’t get pregnant.”
“Why is that?”
“Because two different doctors told me I’d never get pregnant.”
For three months, he asked, and mom insisted she wasn’t pregnant. Finally, she accepted the news that she was pregnant.
The day came for me to be born, and the doctor promised that she’d be awake for the delivery.
Mom said, “But things happened so fast that they had to put me to sleep, and I didn’t wake up until the next morning.”
“When I woke up, the nurse came in and asked me what I thought about the baby, and I asked, ‘What baby?’”
The nurse said, “Your baby.”
“I haven’t had that baby.”
“What makes you think you haven’t had that baby?”
“Because the doctor told me that I would be awake and would know what was going on.”
The nurse said, “You had the baby. Would you like to see it?”
“What is it?”
“A little boy.” The nurse brought the baby in, and my mom said she made sure I had all my fingers and toes. That was five years into their marriage.
My dad worked across the street from the Macon Medical Center and before he went to work, at morning and afternoon breaks, and at lunch, he was at the nursery window to see his firstborn. He was just as proud of his three other boys when they arrived.
Now her little boy just had another birthday, and it was great birthday weekend. I knew Rebecca, my daughter from Houston, was coming. I knew Ruth and Andy, my daughter and her husband from Alpharetta, were coming. I knew Jonathan and Amanda, my son and his wife from Charlotte, were coming. I knew my mom was coming.
I was wishing my daughter and family from Ft. Myers could be here, but it was so far for such a short time. I was sitting on the sofa reading Friday afternoon when the front door opened and in walked Rachel, Perry and the granddaughters. I could not believe it. I had no idea. What a blessing it was to have the entire family together for roughly a day and a half before they started scattering Sunday.
Another year is a blessing, and birthdays are a time to celebrate, especially when they bring your entire family together. Life goes so fast, kids grow up too fast, we are so busy, and that special day gives us opportunity to pause, affirm, express our love, and build special memories.
There’s another special day that needs to be on our calendar, and that day is our spiritual birthday, the day we received Jesus Christ as Savior. Do you remember that day? Have you experienced that day?
I can’t remember the exact day, but I remember the event, and I cherish that life-changing moment. We used to sing:
“I don’t know what day it was that somebody touched me,
“I don’t know what day it was that somebody touched me,
“I don’t know what day it was that somebody touched me,
“It must have been the hand of the Lord.”
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[Dr. David L. Chancey is pastor, McDonough Road Baptist Church, Fayetteville, Georgia. Join us this Sunday March 29 for our Easter musical, “The Power of Easter,” presented at both 10:55 a.m. and 6 p.m. Visit us on the web at www.mcdonoughroad.org and “like” us on Facebook.]
