The Appointed Hour

Ted in Paterson, New Jersey - January 1957 - just before I was born.

Today is my brother Ted's birthday. He's a few years over fifty now.

To me he will always be the big brother who looked out for me, tolerating his annoying crybaby sister as best he could while trying to grow up and have fun with his friends. "Take Debbie with you," was always mom's refrain, whenever Ted and his buddies were headed out to the crawdad ponds or to have big fun playing boy games somewhere in the neighborhood.

Ted would grudgingly oblige, and usually allowed me to participate if for nothing else than to serve as their imaginary game's "mascot." He'd say, "Debbie, you can play the part of the dog tagging along with us cowboys." And stupidly, I thought that was the best thing, ever. Woof, woof. I'd crawl around on my hands and knees and bark, thinking I had a major role in the activity. It never occurred to me how silly I looked.

After we grew up and moved away, mom established a new routine for our birthdays. She would still ask us over to celebrate with a homemade birthday cake and our favorite meal. But we worked now, and if our birthdays were during the week we couldn't always get away and spend time with her. She wanted so very much to still be part of our special day--a day, after all, that really she was the only one who shared. Back in those days, fathers were not a part of the birthing process. Although dad was present at the hospital, mom pretty much had to go it alone with the doctors and nurses. Eventually someone would find the father and announce the outcome. Seems silly nowadays, doesn't it?

Anyway, mom decided that one way she could be with us on every birthday was to call us at the appointed hour, the exact time of day we were born. Fortunately for all concerned, Ted and I were both born at reasonable times: Ted at 7:38 PM and me at 3:43 PM. When the phone rang at that exact time, it was easy to know who was on the line. Mom.

Since mom's been gone, more than 14 years now, Ted and I have soldiered on and have both taken a stab at keeping up mom's tradition. Sometimes if he's busy at work, Ted might miss calling me until past the appointed hour. I have often tried to call Ted at his appointed hour, only to discover that he is out with his family enjoying a birthday dinner. Now that technology is part of our everyday lives, we have both substituted the occasional text message in place of a phone call. Hey, it works.

So tonight, I'll call Ted at the appointed hour to give his official "Happy Birthday" notification. Somehow I imagine mom will be helping to dial the phone.

Happy birthday to my wonderful brother. I love you!