35 Years Ago

I had worked on what I thought for sure would be my third daughter's room for weeks. Pale mint green walls, on which I had hand painted Raggedy Andy and Raggedy Ann in swing sets. An antique twin bed matched the dark mahogany baby bed and dresser, and lacy white curtains hung at the windows.


All the baby clothes were freshly washed and placed in bags inside the drawers to stay fresh. As is my nature, I was prepared way ahead of time.


I wasn't due for six more weeks, but it was one of those sultry, summer days, and I was miserable. In fact, I had just been to the doctor that day and he predicted at least a three-week wait.
 
But I knew better.  Mama's usually do.
 
So, that evening, I found myself beginning a 19-hour labor with my first & only son, and what was to be my last child. I didn't know I was to have a son; that was before we could know such things, adding even more wonderment to the process.
 
We named him "Brady."

His sisters will agree that he was the highlight of our lives. They would dig him out of his baby bed early in the mornings to play Barbie dolls, before he could even crawl.
But he wasn't the kind of kid — ever — that was the spoiled, doted-on type.
 
Never demanding ... always kind and giving, free with a laugh.
 
He invented, built, fixed, arranged — his mind always active — a lover of cheeseburgers and all things music. A good child that grew up to be a good man.

I am proud of my children. We've not always had it easy, and they've persevered right beside me all the way. We've been through some tough stuff, and we're grateful for the experiences that hurt, but make you grow.

God gave me these children ... all three, and I always realized that they were only on loan. And so, when he was but 30, Brady suffered a brain aneurysm and God called him home, and I reluctantly relinquished this child — my only son and my baby — that 35 years ago I worked hard to bring into this world with so very much love.
About the Author
Carol Anne Cullum, writer, artist and Southern cook, lives in Little Rock, Arkansas, in a cozy bungalow as old as her soul. She is a Certified Professional Life and Relationship Coach. She began a blog after her 30-year-old son, Brady, died of a brain aneurysm on the 4th of July, 2010. She is the published author of "You Should've Bought the Mink Coat," and currently working on her second book.
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