On this day, 44 years ago, my then wife and I didn’t open presents. We didn’t have the traditional Christmas dinner. Instead, we spent the day at the hospital in Lima, Ohio, and our celebration centered on the birth of our first son, Jonathan.
For whatever reason, Jon decided he wanted to wait and be an almost Christmas baby, as he was way overdue. We decided later that my slipping and falling on the steps into our trailer was what precipitated his arrival.
The labor was long, and I kept pacing the waiting room, wondering what the delay was, but something that evening, Jon finally made his appearance much to our relief.
Forty-four years later, many of the minute details have blurred in my mind, but I’ll never forget the joy at holding him in my arms for the first time.