On this day, May 22 at zero-dark-thirty in 1980 in my wife’s and my bedroom, we welcomed Audrey to the world. She was damned near perfect and I say “near,” only because if I said “perfect” I would be afraid you wouldn’t really believe it. We had a midwife and Stacey’s mom was there. My memories tell me it was a peaceful and easy birth, but I didn’t birth the baby. But compared to what we had been through when Elon was born, it was quick and seemingly easy as it might ever be.

After Audrey was in her momma’s arms we laid in bed until I got up as the sun rose to hang the banner I’d made that said, “It’s a Girl!” on the outside of the house. It was long, almost as long as the front of my house, and made with a magic marker and a long piece of extra-wide meat packing paper. I went back in the house feeling satisfied I’d done all I could to notify the world of it’s newest member.

We lazed around and agreed on Audrey’s name. I don’t remember which of us came up with the name, I think it was my idea. But she is Audrey. If I met her today for the first time, I think I could guess her name. She just is.

My other daughter, Elon, (whose name I came up with) was with my mom. Later that day they came to visit her new sister and my mom’s new grandbaby. And besides that, we had a birthday party for Elon, who, as it happens, was born at our old house with a midwife and my mom and dad, exactly two years before. That birthing was not easy. But, the days that followed were the best of my young life, right up to Audrey’s birthday gift to Elon. And, funny, if I met Elon today she would be “Elon.” No other name works for her.

My daughters are still close. They work together, they live with each other off and on, share cars, and look and sound like their mom. And they also share their world with little Xyla, Audrey’s daughter. She wasn’t born on May 22nd, but she might as well have been. She fits right in, and truth be told, “Xyla” is her perfect name, even though I didn’t pick it.

You girls made me damned proud!