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(pronounced Ko-Hane)
Dan is the Bram Stoker-nominated author of Plague of Darkness, Solomon’s Grave, and the critically-acclaimed Margaret's Ark. Writing as G. Daniel Gunn, he released Destroyer of Worlds and the novella (written with L.L.Soares) Nightmare in Greasepaint (Samhain Publishing),. His short stories have appeared in Cemetery Dance, Shroud Magazine, Apex Digest and many more. He and his family live in New England.

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Happy Birthday, Roberta Marilyn (Gunn) Keohane

Special Happy Birthday today to the Mom of the Century (OK, well, I should phrase that as the Mom of Two Centuries - no, no, she's not that old, promise <g>).

We should go through life, doing the proverbial counting of blessings, and my mother is up there at the very top. It's funny, I've got so many memories of things we did together growing up, and many times it had something to do with science fiction or horror movies. Janet always rolls her eyes the way I relate so many things in life to movies, or know so many minute details about the entertainment industry in general but still don't notice the empty cup needing rinsing on the counter. I suppose, that a lot has to do with my angst-ridden memories of my teenage years, which are always superimposed, like a healing salve, by memories of watching Star Wars for the first time with this woman, or Rocky. I especially hold close to my heart - for what reason I'm not sure, just that it was such a cool movie I guess - sitting with Mom in the theatre as the mother ship in Close Encounters drifts away into the night sky and the credits start rolling.

I know, take a white picket fence storybook and memories are stirring brownie mix or soup over a stove with aproned Mother giving direction, and I suppose our kids will have these moments tucked fondly into their heads. Me, sitting in a theatre, eyes watering (because I invariably stop blinking during the movie), escaping with Mom to these brightly colored celluloid worlds, escaping the real one for a time, and of course eating popcorn and Twizzlers, even the small speck of a memory of Mom mentioning a show coming on tv (it was a rerun on Channel 56, I'm not THAT old...) call Star Trek I might like. She later regretted it, because all she could hear after that was the constant screams of pain from whichever red shirt was being killed that day. We inherit different things from our parents, and most of it good. Some is deliberate on their part, but most is gotten when they act most like themselves around us. Be yourself around your children (unless you're evil, then you're allowed to pretend), you'd be surprised how effective it can be, ad how many good memories they'll have when they get older.

Anyway, again, Happy Birthday, Mom, and many, many more.

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