I saw the tiniest little baby at the food co-op the other day and it brought back so many memories of when Heather was pregnant with Willow. Here’s my favorite:
My Dad Works in the Golf Ball
I left Ohio, the state where I was born, when I was ten. I should say my parents moved our family out of Ohio in 1978. I don’t recall having much say in the matter. My father left Ohio for a job. He was an electronics technician by trade and was heading to a Federal Aviation Administration radar site in the Allegheny mountain range of central Pennsylvania.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my name: G. Sherman H. Morrison.
I love my name, but it took a long time for it to evolve into its present form. As a young child, I understood my name to be Jerry. I had two older brothers, Joe and Jim. Three J’s – Jim, Joe, and Jerry. Very neat and tidy, right? Except that Jerry wasn’t really my name.