Kelly’s Courage and a Mother’s Pride

Kelly Ann Brady was born on December 16, 1968 at 5:56 a.m. at North Miami Beach Hospital. I was thrilled out of my mind, beginning with my pregnancy. She had fine red hair that eventually fell out, leaving her a baldy for two years. According to the nurses, she was the loudest infant in the nursery. But no worry, she soon became a happy, contented, easy baby. Mom was there to help me, both before and after her delivery. In the final days of my pregnancy, Mom and I would sit by the pool and make Christmas ornaments, waiting patiently for the first contraction. When it came, it was a cold night in December, and Mom let me wear her wool orange dress, which I stretched out so badly it was unwearable thereafter. When we brought Kelly home from the hospital, Mom would walk by her bassinet and cover her up. Lee would follow right after, and remove it. It was sweet and fun to watch this battle of wills. Mother usually won. Lee was a sweet and gentle father. He adored Kelly and would sleep with her on his chest at night. He actually taught me how to bathe her so that she wouldn’t scream in horror. Kelly was a beautiful Guild baby with a big round head, and big blue- green eyes. She has a striking resemblance to her Irish daddy but also looks amazingly like her cousins. All of my sisters like to brag about just how beautiful Guild babies are, and Kelly didn’t let us down. But, Kelly was a true Florida baby. She hated wearing clothes. Putting shoes on was a losing battle. When she was eighteen months old, I took her to Moline for the holidays, and bundled her up in a snowsuit for a walk in the snow. I carried her down the stairs and plopped her in the middle of the snow. She refused to walk, and stood frozen in place while tears rolled down her little red cheeks. When I finally got her back in the house, and got the snowsuit off, she proceeded to totally undress. Mom found her on the little back porch dancing in a circle and singing “coolding!” Mom grabbed her up and said in grandmotherly fashion, “You get in here right now! You’re gonna catch your death of pneumonia!” Kelly’s best friend in her elementary school days was Byron Huntsberger. Kelley was two years his junior but five inches taller. They were constant companions, and both of them were daredevils. One day, I looked out the window and was shocked to see them both riding their bicycles down the driveway with their roller skates on. After I heard the inevitable crash, she came screaming into the house with Byron at her heels—Byron terrified by both Kelly’s blood and tears. They were far from angels. One of their favorite pastimes was playing “knock on the door and run away” in the neighborhood, then acting totally innocent of all outraged charges. They both loved Halloween and would spend weeks planning and designing their costumes. Byron’s mother was a designer and would make elaborate costumes for both of them yearly. One year, she designed costumes so that Byron could be The Jolly Green Giant and Kelly his little Green Pea. On Halloween night, when she put an elaborate chicken-wire frame shaped like a pea on Kelly, she immediately burst into tears of pain, and cried, “I don’t wanna be a pea.” Kelly’s favorite childhood foods were homemade chicken and noodles, chocolate chip cookies, and Kraft macaroni and cheese. When she was four years old, she made a Father’s Day card in nursery school that said, “Daddy, I love you more than macaroni and cheese.” It was her greatest literary contribution. Grandma joined our traditional fishing trips when she was down for her yearly winter visit and many nights the four of us would play 500—Mom’s favorite Moline card game. As soon as Kelly could recognize her numbers, we taught her to play and she has the entire score card memorized to this day. She and Grandma were always partners. Kelly got her Masters in Rehabilitation Mental Health Counseling in 1990. Kelly developed an interest in Traditional Chinese Medicine (which she now has a degree in) after being treated and cured of Hodgkin’s disease in 1995. Her courage and strength were put to the test, and not only did she face this challenge heroically, she embraced it and used it to grow into a wise, compassionate and incredibly stellar woman. Underlying her determination and strength is a tender heart. And, as her mother, I cannot describe the intensity of the love and pride I feel for her.