Happy Birthday Uncle Joe

My brother, JP, turned 25 today marking a quarter century of enduring nicknames bestowed by our mother like Guipetto,  Pettibones, and Snodgrass to name just a few.  Finn and I called him this morning and regaled him with the tale of his birth.   I was 8 when JP arrived on the scene and I quickly became an off-camera voice in family movies.  Being 8, I have some pretty vivid memories of his arrival.   Since JP wishes that he had a blog from when he was a kid,  this is my tribute to him.

By the winter of ’82, my Mom’s belly was huge.  It was so big in fact the doctor thought that perhaps it was twins.   They gave her one of those newfangled ultrasound tests and they said, “No twins just one very big baby.” 

She was three weeks past her due and could no longer drive since she could not fit behind the wheel.     My Dad took us out for dinner since some lady told my mom, “Go out to eat.  It brings on labor (whatever labor is?).”   So we went to Angelo Bistocchi’s in Dunmore.   We ordered and my Mom went to the ladies room.   After a while,  my Dad got worried and sent me to check on her.   She said,  “Leah, go out and find one of the waitresses and tell her that your mother’s water broke.”   I complied having, of course, no idea what she is talking about.    I tell one of the ladies, “Ummm. My Mom is in the bathroom and her water broke?”   It sends this woman into a complete tizzy and then all the waitresses are running around the tiny restaurant like mad.    My Dad goes for the car and the waitresses usher my mom and I through the cold into the car.  

We get to the CMC and head for the entrance.  My Dad is helping my Mom.   She is wearing Duck Shoes, like Duck Boots but lower cut,  and they are squishing as she walks.   

My Aunt Shirley shows up for me so I miss out on all the action, but I get to sleepover her house which is always a treat.    The next morning my Dad takes me to meet my very big baby brother.   He was 10 lbs 12 oz with no neck just rolls, but he was super cute.  

His full name is Joseph Patrick, like our little guy Finn Patrick, but has always gone by JP.    Just before Finn was born,  JP asked if the baby could call him Uncle Joe.   This reduced me to tears.  He wanted to pay tribute to our Dear Uncle Joe who passed away suddenly a few years ago.    I am very proud of my little brother. 

Post Script – As my father points out in his comment below,  I was actually 7 for the blessed event.   Math was never my strong suit.    I turned 8 a few months later.   Bottom line, I had a lock on the whole only child racket until JP showed up.   


3 Responses to “Happy Birthday Uncle Joe”

  1. Dad Says:

    Great story except… for the math. You were 7.

  2. Lizzy Says:

    Ach! That bit about Uncle Joe made me cry a little.

    Holy crap: 10lbs, 12oz??? That hurts to think about!

    Anyhoo: happy birthday to Uncle Joe–lucky little Finn!

  3. Jules Says:

    The “dad” comment cracks me up!

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