First born child to Bill and Pauline, in a military town far away from their home and families. Mama was 18, daddy 22. Here’s the story of my birth I grew up hearing from daddy:
I was born 5 days late, still trying to catch up. He called his dad to tell him his first McFarland grandchild had been born, a girl. My grandpa, already in bed as I was born late at night, said to daddy, “You’re lying” and went back to bed. He was waiting for a McFarland name that would continue. A grandson. He’d wait 4 more years.
Two years later I went to live with grandpa and granny for a year and became the apple of grandpa’s eye. I might not always carry his last name but DNA doesn’t need a name to show its mark. I had his love which is always more important than names.
So that’s the beginning. There’s a lot to fill the middle as I’m old. I don’t feel old so don’t start with all your objections. Chronologically, you can’t argue with me. I do my best to fight against this age that always wins in the end. But this isn’t the end. Not even close.
My parents gave me my first gift, one that would get me through the coming years, the gift of faith. Through their belief and example and instruction, they instilled an unshakeable belief in God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. At times wobbly, yet certain.
Life has been fun and hard and confusing and hurtful and joy-filled and tragically sad. I’ve been tested and passed, and failed. Yet, I have received forgiveness, mercy and grace. I’m learning, always. Through it all, blessed. Beyond measure, beyond reason, more than I can count: blessed.
And you just thought today was all about Cinco De Mayo. It’s such an honor this would all be for me 🙂