Hello - Goodbye

Mother's day has always been kind of bitter sweet.
It was 30 years ago yesterday I gave birth to our son, Brian Anthony. Close to 4 months premature, he didn't have much of a chance. As I looked into that plastic isolette, I could see he had his father's dark hair. I declined to hold him, wanting him to have the best chance and staying warm under the lights. I offered him my little finger and his tiny hand could barely wrap around it.  It wasn't long. Our pastor baptized him, and soon after, Brian left us having lived only about 4 hours. Instead of the joy and happiness that surrounds a new birth, we were planning a funeral.

The Milkman

Growing up in the 60's we had a convenience that has all but disappeared. Our dairy products were delivered right to our house, early in the morning before we got up.  Mom put in a standard order of 2 half gallons of whole milk and depending if she were baking, sour cream or butter. Claude would bring the milk into the entryway and place it in an aluminum box, where it would stay cool until we got up and put it in the refrigerator. Our milk was in returnable glass bottles, that were sealed with a paper cap.  We took delivery 3 times a week. I am not sure when we stopped getting milk delivered, perhaps it ended with Claude's retirement.