“Pat, you’re in transition,” said my husband George. Those four words were one of his greatest gifts to me—apart from our two children, the first of whom was just about ready to make her appearance. It was 1967. A violent Northern Louisiana rainstorm had cut electrical power to our tiny Shreveport hospital. Emergency generators had been able to take up the slack—mostly. The lights were on and vital machinery was humming, but the elevators were still inoperative. And my