When Amos was born he was almost 3 months premature, and it was 1945. The doctor said, "The baby is dead" but the nurse didn't think so. She gave him artificial respiration, and he started breathing. He lived his first two months in an incubator. Within the next couple of years, our mother had another extreme premie, a girl named Susannah, who lived for only a few weeks, also in an incubator. And not too long after that, in 1949, I was born. I think I was the most uneventful of our mother's four successful pregnancies. Amos was not quite 4 when I was born, and I looked up to him with nearly worshipful awe until well into my adulthood. That worshipful sense lessened a little as we went through the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune -- but only a little.
The last few days have been the first in my life when Amos is not there for me to look up to It's a strange, challenging adjustment. I'm glad to read this thread, and I'm grateful.
One part of Mudcat that Amos and I shared was the old Song Challenges when Aine was running them. The most fun I've ever had on a computer.
I'm in Belfast, Maine. (PO Box 515, Belfast ME 04915) If any 'Catters in this neck of the woods would be interested in visiting, your place, mine or in between, let me know. email = firstname.lastname@example.org