Well, it’s tomorrow but it all started on the Friday.
A long time ago in faraway Brussels, Belgium.
You were two weeks late.
I called the Captain and told him I was driving over to Louvain to be checked out. Twenty something miles away.
My water broke as I stopped in the parking lot. I wasn’t going anywhere, as in going home.
You were on your “merry little way.”
I called the captain.
He was at dinner with a friend but said he’d be there as soon as he could.
Hah! The man just didn’t want to get there too soon.
A friendly little nurse appeared.
“Did I want an epidural?”
The little nurse took an awfully long time to reappear.
With an apologetic shrug of her shoulders.
“An emergency heart bypass had come in and all the available anesthesiologists were tied up.”
Heart Bypass trumped Birth.
It was an excellent example of -
“Suck it up, Buttercup and get on with the job at hand.”
Five minutes past midnight.
Saturday June 2nd, 1984 you made your entrance.
And, of course, your name wasn’t Lady Jane! It was Stephanie Ann!
But Auntie Pam, who kindly fetched us from hospital in the “Rolls Royce” aka the beaten-up Peugeot always called you Lady Jane.
Why did Daddy not fetch us?
Well, you’d delayed your arrival by two weeks and he couldn’t delay his business travel.
Truly no biggie.
And waiting for us at home?
Your very own very British nanny – Julie.
On your 34th birthday, so very far away from us, have a wonderful birthday. Down here we’ll raise a glass or two as well.
And I’ll sing Puff the Magic Dragon while remembering the cave in Spain where he lived.