Since the day I was born, every few years I have shared my birthday with a much bigger and way more important holiday. In 1960, my mom went into the labor Saturday, May 7, and I was welcomed into the world on Sunday, May 8, at Brockton Hospital. That Sunday just happened to be a holiday, so I was one of the hospital’s Mother’s Day babies. While I recovered from my journey into the world, my mom spent the holiday recovering and accepting congratulations on the birth of a baby boy. That must have been neat. But, when I was little, it wasn’t cool to have my birthday on Mother’s Day. Even if my …