Happy Birthday to Me!

Four years ago was the last time my dad called to wish me a happy birthday.  I didn't think he'd remember, and wouldn't have held it against him.  He was dying of cancer and was on morphine and was slowly slipping away from being himself.  I was thrilled that he remembered my birthday.

Eight years ago, my darling son was 3 months old.  I had been back to work for a month.  I was pretty much a nervous wreck most of the time then.  I didn't know if I had what it took to be his mom.