. . . a few moments after Harry was born. I had just snipped off his umbilical cord with surgical scissors. (It seemed to have the texture of lightly boiled calamari.)
Harry's dad Rich had been working in a distant city when Harry decided to make his appearance. Rich jumped on a plane and would have arrived in plenty of time for the birth if his flight hadn't gotten delayed at a stopover en route. So I had to pinch hit as delivery room companion for my sister Lee. I quickly realized that my biggest duty was not to faint. Things were harrowing at times but the conclusion was exhilarating.
There is no other experience quite like holding a newly-born baby in your arms.
Harry turned 18 this summer.
We are still friends.