We were on the way to Camp Pendleton, fifty-eight years ago today. Sunday evening traffic had picked up and the drive from Santa Ana was a nail biter. Clutching my medical file, given to me at the last month of my pregnancy at El Toro Marine Base, I wondered if I would be delivering my first baby on the side of the road.
No such luck. We made it with time to spare. Lots of time. The hospital, 12miles beyond the gate, was overflowing with infant deliveries on tap. In fact, there were seven of us hanging out in the lobby because there was no more room in the Inn. Loooking the status of my impending birth, the doctor sent the father in waiting back to Santa Ana. No baby before tomorrow, the doctor predicted
Easy for him to say, I thought, while I huddled on my gurney among 6 other Marine wives, not a familiar face in sight. We didn't bond, each of us wrapped up in our own world of discomfort (a euphemism for pain). Some were more vocal than others. Not a reassuring scenario for a novice.
Born the next morning, no family around, yet so thrilled at this miracle. Long, skinny, 22 1/2 inchs long, with coal black hair. Parted in the middle by a playful nurse, he looked like a member of a barbershop quartet.
Back to the future, that baby is a tall man with a salt and pepper beard and soft brown eyes. David is a grandfather now which makes me a great granny. He was so thoughtful that he arranged to have his first child, Suzanne, arrive in this world on my birthday, which comes later this month.
David's middle name is John, after my father. When David met met the love of his life, Barbara, my father's health was failing. They were married in Ojai on an August day in 1973. We buried my father three days earlier. I choose to believe he was at the wedding right next to my mother. A bittersweet day.
Back to the future once more: Happy birthday to David John Malmin, born at Oceanside, California on October 6, 1952. You have been a joy to behold.
So Says Sassy
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