I am sitting here with big tears in my life pondering how one life touches so many other lives, and how we are all connected - particularly those of us born in small towns!
The doctor who brought me into this world passed away this morning, Dr. "Curly" Watson, age 102. He was an amazing person - still working at age 100. He and his wife lived next door to my aunt and uncle for many years. If you want to read about an extraordinary man, check out his obituary.It doesn't mention it, but he worked on a farm for 7 years to get the money to go to medical school.
I owe my life to Dr. Watson. I had the cord wrapped around my neck, and he unwrapped it and saved me. If I had been born 100 years before [in 1862], I probably wouldn't have lived.
I've told the story many times, how Mom and Dad went to Dr. Watson's for a 4th of July barbeque and Curly noticed Mom was in labor and made her go to the hospital. She missed her barbeque that year, but she got a little red-headed baby.
I saw Dr. Watson at a funeral a few years ago. I thanked him for "getting me out of a tight spot." He just looked at me and smiled.
I told Michael today, if it weren't for Dr. Watson, he wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be here, so I couldn't have rescued my precious children. There are thousands of us- more than 15,000 "Watson babies" - including my brother and many of my cousins in Augusta. But like a stone thrown in a pond, creating exponential numbers of ripples, he saved lives that touched more lives, influencing so many folks for the good. And yet he was a humble man. Blessings multiply, thanks be to God.
If you want to read more, check out The Augusta Chronicle story - particularly the comments.
Goodbye Dr. Watson - I hope you are up there celebrating a life well lived. Tell Dad and my uncles hello.
My beautiful mom and me, circa 1963.
