So Sunday February 2, 1992 was a lovely day in Kendall. Eric and Dana were down from Boston, where Eric was doing his medical training, and they had a one year old birthday party for their girl Jennifer -- at Eric's parents Norma and Marvin's house.
D1 was running around, and playing with an adorable little girl named Marissa. Decades later they'd become friends and fellow Dietitians -- Marissa would do her internship with D1.
And Wifey was pregnant. VERY pregnant -- two weeks past her due date. Her docs had scheduled a C Section, and it was set for the following Monday am -- the baby-ectomy I called it.
It came to pass -- early Monday at South Miami Hospital -- the place we bought D1 three years and a few months before. When the large headed D2 was born, my inlaws brought D1 in for a visit. She kissed her new baby sister on the top of her head. I melted.
And so the band was complete. Our Beatles had our Ringo. The four of us began our lives together in a house in what's now called East Kendall -- 107th Avenue, West of the Falls.
Six months later, a tropical cyclone of historic intensity, commonly known as Hurricane Andrew, literally ripped apart our house. We ran from room to room and found refuge in my Mitsubishi Diamante parked in the garage -- Wifey, the two Ds, my Mom Sunny, and two dogs that comically leaped in as well.
And after all that destruction, the year got much better. Insurance paid us for the losses -- and how! I brought home my first jumbo check for a case I had brought into the firm. And the storm's fury gave us a critical lesson -- all material possessions are just so much crap -- easily replaceable, or better yet, NOT to be replaced. The sanctity in life is the people. I carry that lesson to this very day.
And D2 was a joy -- a fiercely independent preschooler -- one of her less than skilled teachers at the JCC told Wifey "I feel bad for you." And then she started Kindergarten, and I sheepishly went in for a meeting with Mrs. Tables, her teacher, expecting to hear similar tales, and instead was told that she was brilliant, fun, and immensely popular among ALL the kids in class. Wifey looked at each other -- was she talking about the same child? She was.
She had tons of fun through Middle School -- getting decent grades -- and then in high school, self motivated, she got down to business. All As in all AP classes. She still had tons of fun, but realized maybe some of her long time friends were not headed for academic glory -- and she moved on.
She sailed into admission to UF, and got a Master's degree in a year. And most importantly, she met a tall, handsome, Caracas born Jewish boy, and as she said on FaceBook last week, "tricked him into marrying her."
She's comically humble, despite being beautiful and brilliant. We find out about awards, raises, and accolades from Jonathan, or her other friends -- rarely from her directly.
She adores her family -- especially her Little Man sobrino -- and really adores her over sized (now 90 lbs) puppy Betsy.
We had an early celebratory dinner the other night, and today she and Jonathan are headed to LA and Palm Springs for a friend's wedding. Next weekend she's having a 30 for 30 at our house -- an outdoor party of friends to celebrate the 3 decades. Thankfully, Wifey and I are invited to attend this Millennial gathering.
So my baby girl is three decades old. I adore and love her so. She makes me proud. Every once in awhile, we get under each other's skin -- largely because we are SO alike. And it passes -- even though we've been comical roommates now for 7 months on account of delays in her and Jonathan's new house.
Happy 30 D2. It's been a joy. And the best is, I know, yet to be.
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