Day 2 There Is Proof

I was born. It was that simple. The date was May 22, 1949. My birth was not heralded by angels nor was there a star in the East to guide Wise Men. I was simply born to two loving parents who were going to spend the rest of their lives guiding me, teaching me and nurturing me. I have five documents that prove my birth, one official and four that are sentimental in nature. The official document, of course, is a birth certificate issued by the State of Texas. It states that I was born at 11:10 pm and not much else about me.
The sentimental documents seem to give more information. The first is the hospital certificate with a gold seal and pink ribbon in the corner making it look very official. Along with the official seal there is also the picture of the old hospital which is no longer in existence and the flowing handwriting of the clerk that filled in the information. Each of these have endeared the document to me. On the back side are my tiny footprints, slightly smeared, and showing 4 toes on one foot and 6 toes on the other. I have examined my toes several time since discovering those footprints and I have very normal feet, 5 toes on each foot. This document is framed and hangs below my husband's, who is six months older to the day, and was born in the same hospital.
The next proof that I was born is a 3 x 1/2 inch announcement that was cut from the Amarillo Globe News. Each week the newspaper listed all the births for the previous week. I only have the tiny section that says a baby daughter was born to my parents and she weighed 7 lbs. 3 oz. and was 21 inches long. More information, more proof that I exist. That piece of paper is in a box somewhere getting more yellowed each year.
The final two proofs that I was born are the birth announcement that was sent out by Mom to family and friends (I have the one that Grandma had saved and was given to me shortly after her death) and a letter written to Grandma by Daddy. Remember that this was long before email, cell phones or even very many people with land line phones; snail mail was nearly the only way to communicate. So the fact that time was taken to let others know I had arrived was something special. Each birth announcement was filled out in Mother's handwriting that seems to be full of pride as she wrote Mr. and Mrs. I love the letter because it sounds so much like Daddy even today. The letter doesn't give any particulars about me except my name, Patsy, and the fact that I have an older sister who was really missing her mother.
Yes, I was born. The proof is definate.