Typically, I was a bit unprepared.
There were tears.
Big, gushing tears.
Screaming that gave way to crying, gasps, and sobbing.
It was freezing.
Where I was from the temperatures didn't very more than a degree or two - holding steady in the upper 90s.
It was very, very bright - and no one had packed sunglasses - and those usually resting on top of my head must have slipped off somewhere along the line.
That's right, I was completely naked.
And everyone was staring.
Could someone get me a towel? Or a blanket?
Why didn't someone alert me to the occasion - perhaps I could have prepared a few remarks!
I talked, but it seemed like no one was listening.
But eventually, after weeks, months, and years - folks began to come around to my way of thinking.
I'm told I was able to get the people in my house to watch the grainy television each Sunday to watch Mr. Lombardi and his team.
I wish I could take some credit. I can't.
All these many years later - I'm still most grateful for the loving arms of those two people into whose lives I dropped all those years ago.
Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad.
I am truly blessed.