1979. I’d graduated from the Boston Conservatory and married in May of the previous year. Those were both big events. And in the spring of 1979, I was offered my first full time teaching position and, on the same day, an opportunity to start being a computer programmer. I chose to teach music. Those were both big events.
All were small compared to August 7th. Meghan, my beautiful daughter, oldest of my three girls, was born at home in Marshfield, Vermont! This is a picture taken that afternoon. I think it may be the very first picture of Meghan. She is proudly, lovingly held along the arm of my father, Meghan’s Grandpa Roland.
Rebecca’s water broke around 3:00 in the middle of the night as she was coming back from the bathroom, climbing onto our platform bed. I called one of the three mid-wives, whose name I forget. How far apart are the contractions? 5 minutes? Call us when they get closer. I called an hour later. How far apart are the contractions? 4 minutes? Call us when they get closer. Half an hour later I called August, the head mid-wife of our three. Oh you called Sue (I remember her name now). She laughs. Sue is our sleepy mid-wife. We’ll be there in half an hour! They were and everything went smoothly.
Meghan has the most wicked sense of humor of anyone I know. I love conversations with her. Throughout her life, she has refused to fight for herself. If you make the mistake of hurting one of her friends you will find yourself at the mercy of the merciless lioness that is truly Meghan. When she was in junior high she wanted to volunteer at the library. All the librarians knew her as we were down there so much. She was too young. They told her she couldn’t. She went anyway, just started putting away books, helping kids find books they might like. The librarians never complained, often refered kids to her, their unofficial volunteer.
At 23, she proudly announced to me over the phone. Dad! I’ve got a job. Great, what is it? Teaching educable handicapped high schoolers. Hey Meghan! That’s wonderful. We get off the phone. She had her degree in psychology, not in teaching. And she’s taking on the hardest students to teach. I think to myself, She won’t last 3 weeks. 10 years later, I am proud to say that I was SO WRONG! She is still at it.
So, August 7, 1979. Now that was an event by which to measure all others. I am so proud of my daughter, Meghan!