THE EARLY YEARS
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No -- no gender confusion here (snort).
I was born six months after Japan ushered in the nuclear age by bombing Pearl Harbor -- thereby creating the necessity the Nagasaki Hiroshima retaliation. According to rumor and family apocryphal history. I spent the first two weeks of my life being cared for by the Sisters of Mercy after being pulled from my biological mother's womb -- a bastard child scheduled for adoption.
Thank the dieties someone wanted me. I could have been an orphan. Apparently, my biological father, son of a well-to-do Irish Catholic family fell under the spell of my biological mother, daugher of a not so well-to-do Protestant shanty Irish family. I was the result of their ill-fated and stort-term liaison. When my biological father told the good news to his mother (who would have been my maternal grandmother, so sorry I never got to know her), she said, "your hussy has two choices: an expensive illegal and possibly life threatening abortion or I will arrange with Father O'Hoolihan to have the bastard adopted."
My biological mother -- bless her soft heart -- chose the latter and so it was arranged. Father O'Hoolihan was the most popular priest in San Diego Archdioses and had the ear of every hopeful young couple from La Jolla to the Tiajuana border, who, for reasons myriad and/or mysterious, could not bear children of their own. Before cirrhosis of the liver took him to heaven, Father O'Hoolihan probably placed more children in th eagerly awaiting arms of prospective parents than the God he worshipped.
Dad
copyright 1999 Konnexxus
