M. E. G.

   Sometime in September of 1983 (I want to say the 24thish), James Michael Gallagher and Jacqueline Linda Evans became what would turn out to be quite possibly the most miserable husband and wife in the history of couples. They were married in the little chapel on base at Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah, GA, after a brief relationship that was formed in a bar (because that's where all successful relationships begin). Jackie was born in Aberdeen, Maryland, an Army brat, to Tad and Ellie Evans. Jim was from around Camden, NJ, his parent's names escaping me because I never knew them when they were alive (maybe Francis for his father, and I want to say Theresa for his mother, but I honestly am not sure.). The Army brought both of them to Savannah, GA, and booze brought them together in a bar on post. Some time in around early 1985, these two decided it would be a great idea to conceive a child, and on June 24, 1986, at 10:08am, I was surgically introduced to the world. Michelle Elizabeth Gallagher is the name that they bestowed upon me (It would have been Shelby Somethingoranother Gallagher if "Steel Magnolias" had already been out. Jackie reminds me of that at least once a year.), and I rang in at 10#2 and 22" and was the largest baby in the nursery by A LOT.

   I come from a small family, considering that I only ever knew Jackie's side. My aunt and uncle never had children of their own, so I was the first grandchild to Tad and Ellie (that the family talked about, anyway.), and was spoiled rotten and doted upon during my time as an only child. Holidays were small events, as there were only 7 of us at the time (Mike would make 8 in 1989). Grandpa (Tad) spent 20+ years in the Army and retired as an E4, before more years of civilian service and then going on to have an impressive career as a genealogist, recognized by the state of Georgia for his contributions to the history of the state. Grandma had always been a homemaker, aside from a brief stint as a hairdresser in her younger years. They have always been very well off, and those two humans are the ones that I credit for raising my brother and I. They paid for my 13 years of private, Catholic education, they paid for activities and sportsball-related expenses, they took us on vacations over the summer, and we spent more time with them than we did at our parents' house. My grandparents tried SO HARD to make a normal life for Mike and I, but, ultimately, the bullshit that we had to deal with during the time that we did spent at "home" became the elephant in the room that silently explained a very fucked up upbringing that I am impressed either of us survived relatively unscathed.

More on that later...