Passing on a Birthday

 
I've blogged in the past about the fact that my mother, Catherine Burnham Rowe Leary, was born on November 11, before it was Armistice Day or Veteran's Day.

Today I'll tell you a story of a birthday being handed down to someone. One of the things my mother was most pleased with in her life was the job she held for about the last 15 years of her working career. She was a case worker with the county social services, and finally earned the position of being the worker in charge of adoptive placements.

Fast forward to 1975. We had just gotten our Steve from Viet Nam. She was doing the family studies required for another child who was coming from Viet Nam. A lot of those children had no papers and their actual birth dates were not known. (Steve's is, but not Joshua's). Anyway, the family that was adopting a little girl decided to give her my mother's name and birthday.

Here is Steve on the left, and little Catherine on the right. They were too young to remember this day, but the adults all thought it was pretty neat.



Here is Catherine with her new family.



And one more with Steve, Catherine, and her two "new" brothers. I suspect they might remember this.



I recently "found" Catherine on Facebook. It's neat to connect with someone who carries on my mom's name. I'd actually forgotten they gave her mom's birthday, but when FB showed me who was celebrating today, I suddenly remembered.

And, of course, I thank all the VietNam vets who did whatever they could to help save kids like these. I know that an argument could be made that they wouldn't have needed to be adopted if there hadn't been a war. But there was a war, and there was a war even before we got involved, and all any one person can do is the best they can for the people they are immediately surrounded by.

In other news: Om and I ate out since Applebee's gives free meals to veterans, and I wrote a chapter.

	See A Veteran's Day Story
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