Slice of Life Post by Barb Edler, May 9, 2023

Today’s my oldest birth son’s birthday. 39 years ago, I had him in the wee hours of the morning after a day of super cleaning my small rural classroom in Oxford Junction, Iowa. I believe it was around 2:02 a.m. when he finally arrived. This was before they had women sitting up a bit to birth a child. I was flat on my back and was told by my doctor that my pushes were not that effective. I actually tore, and the recovery from that was not pleasant. Even after all this time, I remember. My son has a huge head which is really true so that might have been some of the issues. I never think his head looks abnormal, but he does have quite a bit of trouble finding a hat to fit him. He weighed 9 pounds three and a half ounces, and I can never remember feeling happier than I did on the day he was born.

Anyway, after he was born, he talked and talked and talked. Members of the hospital staff would hear him, walk in, and say, “Is that that baby talking.” Apparently, he had a great deal to say since he’d clearly been present during an almost complete year of listening to me teach 7-12th graders English Language Arts courses. Although he couldn’t shut up after he was born, he was actually very quiet for months afterwards. A good baby who only wanted to eat and sleep. I kind of thought he may have been lacking a personality, but I was definitely incorrect about that because he has an awesome personality. He always wants to entertain and be warm and welcoming to all he meets.

Today is also the day I lost my father which happened to coincide with my son’s 13th birthday. I’ll never forget sobbing in front of a group of boys who had spent the night as part of a birthday celebration as I got into my car and drove the over two-hour drive to meet with my siblings. Fortunately, I had seen my father that week. He was struggling with leukemia, but I was very sad I was not able to be at home when he passed.

Quite a few years later, a very strange thing occurred. I’m going to say this was probably around 2010-2012. Anyway, I had taken a group of students to Chicago to visit the art museum and the Navy Pier. We rode the train from Maycomb, Illinois to Chicago and back that day. On the way up one of my students lost her father’s special panoramic camera. When we got off the train, I made some phone calls and they said to check back when we returned. Thankfully, she was able to retrieve her phone, but it wasn’t right away. A thoughtful student from a different school and a different field trip found it and was kind enough to take it up to the club car where another teacher from our group was present. He knew about the missing camera and so it found its rightful owner. I felt so much relief and had been quietly praying for its return.

I have sidetracked a bit with this story because although that was super fortuitous, the weirdest thing was that I was trying to find something in my coat, and I felt this pressure pushing through the lining of my coat. Seriously, I’m not making this up. Anyway, it was like this hand was giving me something, and as I finally got it pulled out of my coat, I found a playing card, the Ace of Spades. (This seemed particularly important because my dad was an avid card player). Now, this happened on my son’s birthday and my father’s death date. At this time, I had lost my mother, sister, father, brother, and half-sister so I’d experienced a few losses, and when I looked closely at this card, I saw that the ace had the words ALL IN written across it. At the bottom of the card were the words: Heartland. Hmmmmmm….I’m getting this clear message that all my loved ones were together in the Heartland. I still have my Ace of Spades, next to a photograph of my mother and father’s wedding picture and a favorite Christmas ornament of my middle son when he was quite young. Let’s just say, I’m not taking this card’s presence in my life lightly. I feel it was truly a sign from the other side.

Today, hold someone close and give thanks for their presence in your life. Sometimes, life goes by too quickly to really appreciate the moments shared with loved ones, family, and friends.