Does anyone mind if I do tomorrow's now. It's going to be a busy weekend and this could be the only chance I'll get.
Let's get the lesser ones out of the way first:
Baptised 1765, in Portsmouth, Joseph Lush, a 6 x great uncle.
Married 1815, in Strichen, Aberdeenshire, 4 x great grandparents, John Birnie and Barbara Birnie ( why is Barbara so hard to type?)
And now the big one. I know lots of you know this story but bear with me, it's too special not to tell again.
I went to bed on the night of June 8th with no plans or expectations for the following day. At approximately 1.45 am on 9th, we were woken by my daughter's partner, phoning to say that they were in Lancaster Royal Infirmary and that although not due until 18th September, their baby was about to be born. There was nothing the doctors could do to stop it happening. Fearing the worst, we got dressed and tore hell for leather down the motorway, arriving at about 2.30am. I was allowed to see my daughter, who was very distressed and obviously well advanced in labour. She hadn't even started going to ante-natal classes and had no idea about breathing control or anything else so I did what I could to help but to be honest, she was beyond taking it on board.
At about 3.15, we were sitting in a waiting area when there was a mad rush of doctors and nurses, plainly heading for an emergency. In my bewildered state, I thought it was for someone else. But how wrong could I be. At 3.33am my tiny, grandson was born, weighing 1lb 14ozs ( 850 grams), so unready for this world that his skin was not fully formed and his eyes were still sealed, like a new born kitten. My first sight of him was as he was wheeled in an incubator to the neo-natal intensive care unit and all I could see was his head, so very small - about the size of a mandarin orange.
There was no sleep for any of us that night and later that day, the baby, who didn't have a name at that time, and his parents were transferred to Burnley Neo-Natal Intensive Care Hospital where they spent the next two months, with every day bringing fresh challenges and concerns but with the very best of care and equipment. At around ten weeks, he was transferred back to Lancaster and on his one hundred day birthday, he came home - the day before he should have been born!
Actually, typing this has brought back the most devastating emotions and I can hardly see the keyboard now. But look, here we are, about to celebrate his first birthday with all the family around us. And just to do some real nana-boasting - here he is, still tiny and more like the eight and a half month old which he should be, than a baby of twelve months but healthy, happy and perfect.......