The day is etched in my memory. It fell on a Tuesday. That afternoon, while playing hide and seek during snack time in school, I made a huge discovery: I could finally make the whistling sound with my lips. I’d been trying unsuccessfully to do that for days.
Earlier, already dressed for school and in high spirits, I descended the stairway to the dining room. Six eggs sat on the plate on the rectangular dining table and one on the saucer on dad’s coffee table. Dad gave me the egg on his plate and wished me a happy birthday. It was a few hours into May 8 1984 and I was just beginning my 5th year. Nineteen years later, I can still whistle. Life is beautiful.