For several years of my childhood I believed that Labor Day was a National Holiday in honor of me and my mother. I was born on September 2nd, Labor Day in 1962, and for some reason in classic childhood innocent fashion, I believed that since my mother was in labor for my delivery that they called my birthday, Labor Day. Well, at least my birthday is always close to the unofficial official end of Summer weekend that is usually packed with fun and frivolity.
This year was a very odd, if not surreal birthday experience for me. My birthday this year fell on a Friday, usually not a bad thing for birthday boys, unless of course you have to work. Compounding my dilemna was the fact that my son had a varsity high-school football game Friday evening in Kingstree, way to far for me to catch part of the game before going to work at the hospital. So after arriving home from work Friday morning to an empty house, except for my black lab Sammie, I proceeded to spend most of the day in bed only to wake up to a quiet and empty house since my wife traveled to Kingstree directly from her job. Then things really took a turn for the worse, my cell phone rings and displays my wifes cell number, initially thinking she is calling to tell me that my son just made an interception or returned a kickoff for a touchdown. Instead I hear her say, "Doug, Noah got hurt. He is on the bench with an ice bag taped to his knee." Wow! Happy Birthday Doug. So, off I went to work, after having spent the first birthday in 49 years of life without spending one minute of the 24-hour period with anybody who shares my last name and the knowledge that my youngest son is hurt in a football game on my birthday with me two-hours away.
As it turned out, Noah was evaluated this morning at the Roper-St. Francis Sports Injury Clinic and got some decent news. Not a blown out knee, but a severe sprain of the MCL. Even though he will be out of the action for a couple of weeks, at least he won't have surgery to repair a torn MCL or ACL. And wouldn't you know, that awesome home cooked birthday meal was even better today than it would have been yesterday, one of my favorites Filet Mignon Stroganoff, fresh peas and a tossed salad, not to forget the home-baked Salt Risen Bread shipped to me by my sister in West Virginia.
Look at what the wife and sons got me for my birthday, now I can proudly display that Mountaineer Pride on the golf courses of the Lowcountry.
And look at me, celebrating 49 with a wish, finally....