In the late night hours 23,740 days in my rear view mirror this very night, my Dad paced the halls outside the surgery wing at the old Greenville General Hospital. The doctors were not encouraging at all–they would do everything they could to save Mother’s life but the cancer had ravaged her and with limited technology (1957), they basically had no clue of how ‘the baby’ would/could/ever be able to survive–or did the cancer invade the womb as well. In the wee hours of the next morning (I was always an early riser) Dad would tell me later that through the paper thin hospital walls, he hears a piercing bellowing defining cry. The first miracle of this early morning had made his arrival; he was loud, boisterous, healthy (and hungry–who knew… – miraculously Mother’s womb had totally protected me. But they needed a second miracle that morning–they needed to go back in and remove every evidence of cancer–her scalpel scars were jagged, invasive and massive–the surgeons told Dad her chances were less than 5%. BUT GOD. She not only survived but 14 months later she came home to me. And you all know the story from there. Tomorrow morning, I will be humbly thankful for Day 23,741–and eternally grateful for an extraordinary Mother who risked her very life to GIVE ME life, and a Savior who gave His life FOR ME and loves me in spite of me each and every day. And as in my tradition to those who know me well, Happy BIRTHday MOM from your blessed Baby Son. I love you and Dad immeasurably. We’ll be Home soon. BUILT IN THE FIFTIES–Original, Unrestored. Some parts are still in working order (?) BUT not everyone looks this good at 65–it’s ALL in the genes.