dianaschnuth

[Posted on Flickr by dianaschnuth].


Thirty years ago this month, this was the scene somewhere in Medina County, Ohio. According to the captions in my baby book:

July 4, 1976 was your first holiday but I am saving this place for Christmas.
[Page Title: “My First Holidays”]

You were 8 months old and you were in awe. On the 27th you got the croop and bronchitis and spent 11 days in the hospital.

Gifts: Raggedy Ann, dress and leotards [tights], two squeeky toys, and a teddy bear (at the hospital).

Santa was played by Butch’s brother Bill.

Mom also wrote about Christmas Eve in the baby diary:

December 24, 1976: Just got back from Gramma Dobbins. Took a picture of your dad and his girl got real mad. Gean got you a Raggedy Ann.

Later – Everyone was fussing over you saying how cute you are. Bonnie got you a little dress and leotards and she got Grannie [Memaw] and Mom a juice set. It was after midnight when you went to sleep so I’m tired. I was going to watch “The Blue Bird,” a Shirley Temple movie, but you have really worn me out.

I love you, good night.
Mom

In addition to all this, I’d just like to mention that the plastic Santa suit with the beard made of quilt batting is so trés 70’s. Way to go, Uncle Bill! 🙂

Dear Butch,
Dear “Dad,”
Dear Robert,

Hello,

We’ve never officially met. Not that I could remember, anyway. I’m sure you know who I am, though.

You and my mom were an item back in 1975, until she got pregnant. From how I’ve heard it told, you offered to pay for her to have an abortion. I’m a little unclear as to whether that was before or after you two broke up. It doesn’t matter at this point, though, since she refused, and subsequently lost a paternity suit against you.

At any rate, you know who I am, even though we’ve never met. I honestly don’t know much about you, although your family is pretty cool and always accepted me as one of their own. Whatever. Like I said, it doesn’t matter at this point.

I’ve thought over the years about what I’d like to say to you, if I ever happened to be in the same room as you, or if I could ever get up the nerve to look you up in the phone book and find your address to write to you. Since I think I’m fairly safe here on the internet — since hundreds of friends and strangers will read this, but the likelihood of you actually finding it is slim to none — I choose to make this my venue to say what needs saying.
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