Thirty years ago

I can remember exactly what I was doing thirty years ago today on 14 July 1991. I was in labour at our local hospital. Just after lunch I had the very beginnings of labour pains and by 10:54 pm our darling daughter Kay was born. She was very much wanted and our one and only. I had conceived naturally at the age of 40 after a decade of disappointment, just when we had given up all hope. Given I was a geriatric mother, it all went swimmingly well - the pregnancy and the birth itself. Greg took her in his arms and sang La Marseillaise as she was born on the French Bastille Day!

Kay did not and has never disappointed us. Apart from not sleeping through the night until she was eight years old, she has been a delight and wonder. Even when her father died in her first year at university, she pulled all her strength together to carry on with medical school and has become the successful career woman she is today.

Last week we celebrated an early 30th (and my belated 70th) with afternoon tea at the Savoy. We got all dolled up and took the train to central London - for me the first journey in a year. We were treated by the Savoy staff like royalty. Afterwards we strolled over the bridge to the Southbank and basked in sunlight watching the evening crowds strolling along. The following day we were joined by her boyfriend and had another grand celebration at home.

Kay has now taken a much-needed break from her strenuous 16 months in Intensive Care and has two weeks relaxing in Cornwall with her boyfriend. She deserves it so much, as she is physically and emotionally spent after what she has dealt with at work. She'll be celebrating again today.

Happy Birthday, Darling. Enjoy your big day.

My own cake-making effort