Happy Birthday Brielle

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RSteve

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I had my daughters somewhat later in life, eight years apart. Baby daughter is now 34. I never thought I'd be a grandfather as my older daughter decided long before her marriage that she didn't want children. In 2013, months after my younger daughter got married, I took a bad fall in my garage. I shattered my right shoulder, broke four toes on my right foot, and broke my left kneecap and left cheekbone. My right arm just hung after the accident. I expected to spend several weeks in a nursing home until I could tend to my personal needs. My younger daughter and her husband were living in an apartment. At the ER, following the accident, the younger daughter insisted that she and her husband would move in with me immediately; that a nursing home was not in my future, regardless of my desire.
They did move in the night of the accident. My daughter hadn't lived with me since she'd gone off to college.

She confided that she'd been told that it was unlikely that she'd be able to have children. Both she and her husband had gone through numerous tests. When the young couple moved into my house with me, I gave them the master bedroom and I moved down the hall.

A few weeks passed and my daughter came to my bedroom sobbing.
"Daddy, I think I may be pregnant."
"Have you taken any tests?"
"No, I'm afraid they'll tell me it's a false alarm, and I'll be devastated."

She was pregnant and today is her oldest daughter's 6th birthday. Her son turns 5 in July and second daughter (a real surprise) is 17-months-old. The birthday girl was conceived in the same room as my daughter, her mother.

When Brielle was six-months-old and I was well on my way to recovery, my daughter, her husband, and Brielle moved into their own home. To this day, I wonder if the spirit of my late wife, moved the recycle box that I tripped over in my garage causing my fall and the course of my daughter's life.
 

Timbo

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I love how life manages to turn a turd into gold sometimes. Other times it's just spit polishing it...
 
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