Birthdays Remembered

I am new at blogging and what is interesting - I hated writing assignments in school and college! BUT, blogging is fun! Then I saw on Becky's site her post in response to a "writing assignment" at Momma's Losin It.

So, I am going to give it a try.

There are four prompts to choose from:
1. Write about a heart that wouldn’t quit.
2. Describe a childhood birthday.
3. Do you have reoccurring dreams? What are they about?or
4. Close your eyes, open a dictionary, and point to a word. Does your word mean anything special to you?
I have picked the childhood birthday, mainly because I did not like the random word that I randomly picked from the dictionary and the other two did not spark anything either.
I debated about this because one of the ones I remember the most did not necessarily have a great ending . . . family did gather . . . crowds gathered, for that matter. . . I do not remember the gifts I received. . . But I do know there were speeches given . . . people cheered . . . there may have even been some tears.

My birthday is January 20th and the year was 1977.

The day started out wonderful. My grandmother was visiting from Nebraska (we lived in Colorado at the time, but did not get to see her very often). My mom had made my all time favorite breakfast – French toast. Now, I tended to like my French toast rather simple, butter was all I needed on top! But this being a special day, you know, my birthday and my grandmother was there. She talked me into venturing out a bit, and convinced me to try something new, maple syrup on my French toast! It was different, not necessarily bad, just new (hang with me, this is relevant).

So I gobble down my breakfast and then I was off to school.

A few hours later, I became sick. Sick to my stomach sick. My mom was called; I was picked and went home, thinking and believing, the maple syrup made me sick! And sad to say, I still, to this day, do not add maple syrup to my French toast, pancakes, nada! Nope, not going to happen . . .

But this is where the gathering begins . . .

We turned on the TV.

And we watched . . .

The countries 39th President – Jimmy Carter – be sworn in.

As I said, crowds were gathered, speeches were given, people cheered, and probably, some people shed some tears.

Four years later, we had moved to Georgia. On my birthday, I again, got out of school early. This time, not because I was sick, but to experience history taking place . . .

to see Jimmy Carter return to his hometown.

Well, and to hopefully see a cousin that was a pilot with the Air Force One Crew.

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