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Baby Boomer

By Kate Everson

Copyright 2011 Kate Everson

Smashwords edition

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I was the youngest of three. My sister was born in 1945, my brother in 1946 and I came along, totally unplanned, in 1948. We were known as “baby boomers,” children born after dad came home from the war.

“We didn’t plan on having you,” my mom admitted.

But somehow, they made room for me. And I tried all my life to fit in.

So I found myself making my own little world. I walked in the woods and talked to the trees, smelled the wild flowers and listened to the birds. Nature was my home.

We grew up in Ontario, first in the south, then the north. I was a sickly child, with bronchitis that made me cough and wheeze. The doctors sent us north away from the water. When that didn’t work, they sent us south again, to be near the water. I coughed and wheezed wherever I went. Dad would bring me big spoonfuls of medicine when I was coughing at night, and try to help. Once I stopped breathing and he brought me back to life. Thanks, Dad.

I guess being a wheezer had its advantages. I never learned to smoke like the other kids, stealing packages of cigarettes and smoking them all in the woods. Oh, I tried once, but the smoke hurt my throat so much I gave it up. Thank God for small mercies.

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