I Am Born

“I am born.”  The first line of the Charles Dickens novel David Copperfield is appropriate for my first memoir blog entry, I think. It was Tuesday, January 6, 1959 when I made my entry into the world at the astonishing weight of only 4 pounds 13 ounces.  My mother was only 17, and my father was 18.  I was their firstborn, the first child born into their family, which would grow to six in only seven short years.

The title page of my baby book.


I’ve been told that I was a fussy baby who would fit in the palm of my uncle’s hand, an uncle who lived with my parents for a short time while I was an infant.  My poor mother, who testifies that I cried all the time, couldn’t have known much about taking care of babies, but I managed to grow and become a big sister to my brother only 14 months later.

Me at four months. . .what a dumpling!


What is the old nursery rhyme about babies and days of the week?  If the internet is correct–and we all know it is, right? (smirk)–here’s how it goes:


“Monday’s child is fair of face.
Tuesday’s child is full of grace.
Wednesday’s child is full of woe.
Thursday’s child has far to go.
Friday’s child is loving and giving.
Saturday’s child works hard for a living.
And the child born on the Sabbath day is bonny and blithe, and good and gay (happy).” Mother Goose


I was born on Tuesday.  Full of grace.  Well, I suppose that’s true. Though my patience was wearing thin those last few years of my teaching career,  I have always been told that I must be a very patient person to handle at-risk high school students.  Maybe.  Is that grace?  I know one thing, God’s grace is extended toward me every single day, and I praise Him for that.

Me at eleven months.  Take me somewhere!


Where was I born?  Mercedes, Texas, deep in the Rio Grande Valley, known by locals simply as “The Valley.”  My parents grew up there and when I was two years old, they made the move to East Texas, following my dad’s family and a job opportunity.  Here we stayed, and here I still reside.



Being born in 1959 makes me one of the last of the baby boomers, the babies born in the US after World War II, between 1946 and 1964.  We were responsible for the postwar economic boom and continue to shape consumer trends.  Of course, now many of the products manufactured are for aging baby boomers, such as the Acorn stair lift!

My favorite baby picture.


I’m not quite there yet!

Bathing beauty!
My own wheels!  Check out those bare feet. . .


My earliest memories began while I was still in diapers.  Stay tuned.


By aencoker

Author, teacher, mom, grandmother, but most of all, Christian.

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