I had a birthday in April and turned 75. It did not make me feel particularly old. A lot of my contemporaries didn’t make it this far. It is hard to believe it, but it appears my birth date was April 8th, 1946. The first of the baby boomers.
Mothers are magical, mythical creatures curing gaping, wildly bleeding wounds with butterfly kisses and bear hugs. When order cannot be restored with lightly laid on lips, a bandaid with winged ponies may steadily slow a tumbling trail of salty tears and bubbling blood.
Those fairytale-like mommy moments don’t always come