We got back from Chicago (actually stepped inside our condo) at noon today, unpacked, made a grocery list, and went to teach. I am pretty tired this evening, so will let the photos and captions do the talking. In short, I had a wonderful Thanksgiving with my family and a nice birthday yesterday.
On birthdays: I used to think everyone had a birth story that was told to them every year on their birthdays. When I met Rick, I asked him, “So, what’s your birth story?” “What do you mean?” “Well, didn’t your mom tell you a story associated with your birth?” “No stories. I was just born.”
Well, every year for my birthday, mom told me how she CRAVED watermelon the whole time she was pregnant with me. She had recently immigrated to the states and has just discovered how impossibly delicious watermelon is in the midwest. All summer long, she gorged on it. In Sicily, it is bad for a pregnant woman to not give in to her cravings. By the time fall came, she was sending dad off in search of watermelon to ease her cravings. Back then, fruit was not available off season, so a bit of a panic set in when watermelon season was coming to an end and dad would come back home empty handed. November was not a happy month for mom as the watermelon supplies were non existent.
As for my actual birth day, mom went into labor on Thanksgiving morning. She waited for Aunt Lily to arrive to be with my sisters and help out with the the meal. Mom said to Aunt Lily, “By the time the turkey is cooked, this baby will be born.” And off she went to Mercy Hospital in Gary, Indiana, where she gave birth to me, her fifth daughter. Aunt Lily and my sisters got news of my birth just as they were about to have their turkey dinner. My sisters danced around the table! I weighed 10 lbs 10 oz (kind of like a turkey)!