65 Great Years – Thank You – April 13 2009

65 years ago in a small Nursing Home in Ceylon, Saskatchewan – the world changed for a young couple. Their first baby came into this world with some great struggles. The baby almost didn’t make it. The umbilical cord was wrapped around his scrawny little neck – and his face was blue. The more that his mom pushed and the further he came down the birth cannel – the tighter the cord became. The much needed oxygen was not there for this tiny creature facing his first moment of life on the outside.

Now if this birth would have happened in a modern facility somewhere in a city hospital – there would have been less concern.

The Nursing Home was not a hospital. There was no doctor or fancy machinery. There was a nurse that had some experience in assisting women having babies. There was no light either. The Second World War was on and all fuel, power and the luxuries that we have today were cut off after 12 AM. At midnight it was dark.

As the delivery started late at night there was no light to see what was happening. Any checking on what was happening took place as the young, first time father held a flash light for the nurse to see.

Without being too graphic – it all happened in front of the young dad’s eyes as he watched the beam of the flash light. Then came the baby’s head and the site of the cord. It was not good.

But the cord was cut and the baby began making noise – lots of it… and has been doing this for 65 strong years.

That baby was me. I have heard the story many times from my dad and mom.

I finally arrived at 6 AM - after a wild night of birthing. My dad then rushed from the small nursing home to catch a ride to another town – then get on a bus that would take him to Regina’s Army Recruiting Station where he had to report to enlist in the army.

It was not nice times. The war had been raging for more than 4 years in Europe and Asia. Many men had already died. No one knew for sure that their son or father would return from the war after enlisting.

I can only imagine what the feelings my dad must have that day as he boarded the bus. The people on the bus could really have cared less about him after what he went through. There was no time to even tell his siblings or parents what he had just gone through – or to have the family celebrate his great joy with a new son. There was no time to even hold the baby… he ran out the door and began a journey into a war that was waiting.

Last night we had a Birthday Party for Grandpa Lincoln - ME. All my grandkids gathered around the table to sing and celebrate with and for me. We have it all on video(that may make it to YouTube today).

I looked across the table from me at my mom. Then I told a story for my grandkids… and how I arrived. I looked at my mom and said “Thank you… for having me…and going through what you have all these years.” She cried and so did I…

A birthday – special or not – is not about the person that has just turned another big corner. It is about the people that made it possible.
I want to thank some special people today…
* Karen Alida Lincoln – once known as “Jonesy” – my girl friend for 5 years and my wife for 42 years now…
* Dana and Anda – our two wonderful daughters that have made my life pure joy…
* Bruce Lindsay and Bill Rourke – our daughter’s husbands – the greatest men that I know… that were made specially to look after my kids and grandkids…
* For Clifford, Emma, Jonathan, Thomas, Michael and Christopher – the best Grandkids in the Whole Wide World…you guys keep my young!!!!
* And SPECIALLY for Clifford Leslie Lincoln – my Dad… and Marion Nellie Lincoln – my Mom… without them none of what I am or what I have done would have ever been possible…
* AND… a Million Friends that God has given me over many years of my living – they are my BIG FAMILY given by God.

God Bless you all!

~ Murray Lincoln ~ 65 and just beginning the journey!!!!!!
http://www.murraylincoln.com/

Sources:
http://www.storknet.com/complications/salafia/cord.htm
http://www.givingbirthnaturally.com/restricted-umbilical-cord-problems.html