My Grandpa, Admiral Dewey Morris

 Good Morning sweet friends,

 It is TBT and I wanted to share my Grandpa  Morris with you all. I remember him quite well because I was a teenager when he passed. He was born in 1899 and died in 1968. Not a hugely long life as I am only a few years away from this age myself.

He used to come visit often as I was growing up and he was a quiet man who seemed to have a lot of patience as I recall. Our rambunctious ways did not seem to bother him and he would sit quietly and watch us play. 

He was sick the whole time that I remember him and he used a cane to walk. His legs were so swollen near the end that he hobbled more than walked but he still made the trip to see us right up to the end. My Grandmother had died in 1954 so he was alone and I think he missed being around children. We were his grandchildren and brought smiles into his life and I am so glad that we did.

 I remember well the day he died and laid in his house for 3 days so that all could visit. I was shocked to see nickels on his eyes when we went over and asked my Uncle Andy about them. Uncle Andy told me, that was for the ferryman to help the dead cross over.   I was always intrigued by that idea and found out that was a long standing custom in the South,  but it actually is much older from Greek Times. 

Here are a couple of stories I  wrote about him after talking to W L Simmons at the Ebenezer Church Homecoming. I took notes and turned what he said into this story that I could keep for my family:-) Hope that you all enjoy getting to know Granddaddy Morris. I remember him best with a mess of fish like the picture and am thankful that he was here so that I could be. I am so glad that i had Granddaddy for awhile when I was growing up. They have all been gone so long now.  but I remember them like yesterday. Love to all my family and friends, Kimmee 

 Information from W.L Simmons at Ebenezer Church Homecoming--Sunday......July 2011

Grandpa Dewey had a store called "The Hinky Dink" located on Morristown Road about 1/2 mile from Aunt Elma's home. When Grandpa would go fishing, he would put big chains on the door to keep the children and Ola out of it. He did not want them taking any merchandise while he was fishing.   When W L Simmons was a young man, he, Uncle Andy (Andrew Adair "tadpole") Morris and cousin Earl Morris used to go to Fred Hendrick's traveling wagon store. In those days you could sell a chicken or eggs for enough money to get a candy bar. 

They would take a chicken, collect the money, then while Mr Hendricks was distracted by the other two boys, W L would open the bottom of the chicken cage and act like he had another chicken to sell. The boys did this three times so that they could all have a candy bar. Years later W L felt bad about what he had done and one day he saw Mr Hendricks. They were just talking and Mr Hendricks asked "Was I a good supervisor?" and W L told Mr Hendricks "You were mean to me." Mr Hendricks had a shocked look and W L said, " Naw, you were a good one, but I have to tell you what we boys did to you when we were young." He then told Mr Hendricks the story of using the chicken three times and Mr Hendricks looked at him and said, "You'll boys didn't do that to me, did you?" W L had to tell him yes and that he was sorry. Mr Hendricks then forgave him and  W L felt better about telling him. 

 Second story...At night when W L, Uncle Andy , and Earl would be coming home late down the trail to Grandpa Deweys store, Grandpa used to love to scare the boys. He used an old metal hat that he would rub on rocks, which produced a scary sound, all the while he was making terrible noises. The boys would say, "did you hear that?" they would listen for a while. Grandpa would do it again and the boys would be so scared that they would run the rest of the way home because it sounded as if someone was dying.

Aunt Lizzie And Her Snickerdoodles

In old age we are either tiny or ample and in my family, you can see some of each, even in my own sisters. My older sister is tiny, my younger sister is thin and I am the one that is ample. I remind myself so much of my mother and Daddy's Aunt Lizzie Creamer. She had an ample bosom and hips to go with it. "Birthin" hips we used to call it. I did not have them in my youth but for the last 13 years, I have had to embrace my roundness or fat if I want to be truthful. 

Aunt Lizzie was such a character. She was a buxom woman as I have mentioned and "bolster holsters" weren't really a way of life for many women back then.  She wore a homemade sack dress probably or if it were a store bought one,  it was plain but it was clean. She had a towel or kerchief that she wore around her neck because she was a "dipper."  I have never seen anyone spit snuff across the room like she did onto the old wood burning pot belly stove she had. When the spit would hit it, it would sizzle and bounce across the stove and  a puff of smoke would come out. It was fascinating to watch her hit it every time and then wipe her chin on the towel around her neck. That was to keep her dress and apron from getting messed up so that when company came by, she could take off the towel and be presentable. 

Company just stopped by in those days. No warning. No phone call. Many people did not have a phone and if they did, it was a party line and good luck trying to get a word in edgewise.

She was the daughter of my beautiful Grandma that left us way to early.  Her Parents were Lucious LeeRoy and Lula Arritta Creamer Peacock.  I loved my Grandma Peacock more than life. She was my anchor in a chaotic childhood and I was pretty devastated when she passed. No more of her cinnamon cookies or so I thought. She would always give me the first one hot out of the oven when I would visit. I would climb up on the old barn bench seat and watch her work in the apron  that Aunt Elma gave me from her.  The smells were so delicious and it was hard for me not to wiggle while I waited for the cookie to bake, on their old wood stove. She may have been the one to teach Aunt Lizzie to make those cinnamon cookies because they both made them the say way. Delicious would be an understatement.

Aunt Lizzie's name is always listed as Lizzie so I haven't found records to suggest that it was ever Elizabeth. She married sometime between 1920 and 1930 because she is listed on the 1930 Census as being Widowed and her name is Lizzie Archer. Their marriage was short and I don't know if they had children.  She wasn't very motherly like my Grandma was,  so maybe children were not her forte.  

I know that she tolerated us if we would sweep her yard. Back in those days, having a grassy lawn was not the aspiration of many. It was to have a white sandy yard that you swept with a bundle of twigs tied into a broom.  If I was gonna get a cookie that day, I would have to sweep the yard, and walk the outside perimeter of the sand to get back to the steps for that cookie. If I left any footprints in the sand, No cookie for me. lol  

I became quite adept at those long sweeping movements that would wipe any footprints or any vestige of anyone walking on it, away.  It looked like white sand at the beach and maybe that was the intent because at any given time of day, you could look out your front window and see white sand and travel there in your mind. 

Anyway, Aunt LIzzie was not a bad person but she was not a demonstrative type woman, at least to Donna and myself. Maybe she knew if we were around,  we wanted a cookie and she did not like to share. Maybe she didn't have much and cookies were the treat she gave herself. I never thought that far into the process. I just wanted a cinnamon cookie. lol

The wooden house was built by my Daddy for her to live and it was right across Morristown road on the opposite corner as the house Daddy built for us. It wasn't large but it had a pretty good sized front room that went into the kitchen/dining room and it had two small bedrooms. It did not have an indoor toilet but had an outhouse out back. It had a good sized back porch and just past the porch was where you got your water. There was a great old pump that you primed and then you could get some of the amazing cold mineral water that this area is famous for.  

This is the part of the story when I confess to being less than stellar as a kid. I have spoken of taking an extra piece of candy when given the opportunity to bag my own back in the day and that the guilt was enough to paralyze me and the next time I bagged my own candy, I shorted myself but the fact remains that I stole a redhot. 

And I sneaked into Aunt Lizzie's window once to steal a cookie. I know that is so awful and I really have no excuse but the pull of that cinnamon cookie was strong to a little kid that was missing those homemade treats that other mothers made for kids after school.  I opened the back window and shimmed myself inside one day, when I knew Daddy was taking her to Flomaton, and I looked for her cookie tin. It was right there on the table and I wrestled with my conscience and that cookie for a minute or two , until it got the best of me and I took the cookie. 

I sneaked out the same way I came and forgot to close the window. I was not a very good well thought out thief. I would probably be on one of those "stupid" criminal videos that you see on youtube now. lol

I took the cookie to my straw house on the back side of Aunt Lizzie's house.  I don't remember sharing it with Donna. I feel worse about that than taking the cookie. I ate my prize and then went back home. I am sure that Aunt LIzzie knew she had not left a window up and that was when I started having to sweep the yard if I wanted a cookie. It was a fair exchange in my mind. She never spoke of the missing cookie and I could not bake one to replace what I had taken,  so I lived with that shame. 

The good thing is that I never took anything else. I guess the shame of the Snickerdoodle theft  was enough to quelch any thought of doing that again. 

I hope that I learned something from her and from the task of sweeping the sand. I know that I tried real hard to make sure it was pretty and when Donna would do that, she would too.  

I know that kids today would think that was a waste of their time but believe me, it wasn't. 

While I was sweeping, I was breathing in fresh air. I was under shaded pine trees soaking up the smell of pine nuts and needles. Some days there would be a breeze and that is a little slice of heaven to be in the shade as the breeze came through making the pines sway so beautifully to and fro in a dance of the pines. Of course sometimes a pine cone would fall and you had to step lively so that it would not hit you on the head.  

The bigger lesson is I learned to do something for an elderly person that was unable too. It is interesting that I became a Nurse for the elderly in my adulthood. I certainly had training growing up in respect and care of the people older than I was. 

I hope that you all can get a picture of Aunt Lizzie from this short story of her. I liked her and am glad that she tolerated us children and glad that she let me work for a treat instead of just handing it to me. 

I hope that all have a beautiful day today. Adding prayers for my cousin Betsy and for anyone needing them today. I love you, Kimmee

(photo of Aunts Arbelle and LIzzie from Donna)

The Tree

 This tree spoke to me today. 

The tree is barren as the cold winds blow

Nothing to protect it from a mountain of snow 

It's leaves are gone that may bring warmth

Gaining what it can from the soil of the Earth

You might feel sadness as you gaze at the twigs

Wishing that you could help it grow new sprigs

Knowing that it's life is out of your hands

But believing in its existence for all of man

It's much like an old body used up, and then

The springtime comes, and the buds begin

Showing new life, another year well done

Til next we are gone and a new tree begun

White Water Rafting

 Good morning dear friends. I thought I would relate the Tuesday's adventure before we left Gold country. 

It was a day unlike any other. It was going to be 102 and the girls wanted one adventure before we left the rapids. The morning dawned bright and the girls packed up their gear. 

Boat. Check

Fishing supplies. Check

Water and sunscreen. Check

Snacks.   Check

Towels.  Check

They piled all their gear into the truck because they were driving to the spot where all the water rapid tours departed and that's where they were putting their boat into the water.  Take the 1 1/2  hr float back to where our RV is then get the bikes and go get the truck. It seemed such a simple plan. 

The big boats left with paddlers, equipped with life vests, helmets etc and the girls put their boat in the water  when the last tour boat left. 

Immediately Wendi heard an air leak in the boat and said to Jenny, "we have a hole in the boat." Jenny said."maybe we shouldn't do it today." Wendi said, " it will be alright. 2 of the 3 chambers are holding." 

Off they went with Wendi's back to the rapids and Jenny facing the rapids. As they paddled the air was trying to empty out of the chamber with a hole. Wendi tried to keep her finger over the hole while paddling and skinned up her knuckle pretty badly. 

Meanwhile Jenny was saying, as the water got choppy, " I'm nervous.  I'm really, really nervous.: 

Wendi reassured her. "Everything is gonna be alright."  

The people that paid 119 dollars per person to have a tour guide were watching Wendi and Jenny going down the rapids with air leaking and a panicky Jenny. 

Jenny will share with you that she has anxiety. The mountains have been a challenge or any new experience, since we've been out but wendi is her opposite. Scared of nothing and taking names. They make such a great pair. 

Jenny is saying to Wendi, " why did we do this? Why did you let me make the decision to do this? We're gonna sink. We have no life vests. Wendi, why did we do this?"  Wendi was trying to reassure her, while paddling, holding her finger in the leak and flipping water out of the boat. 

At one point, they said the tour guided boat stopped and waited for them to make it through. At which time , Wendi and Jenny acted cool, like nothing was wrong. As soon as the big boat was outta sight, Wendi and Jenny were bailing water out of the boat and trying to keep the one side that was going flat out of the water.  

I wish you could have seen them tell me about it when they got home. I was laughing so hard as they unfolded the scene for me. Trying to be so cool while the big boat was watching , then trying desperately to keep it from sinking.

We all laughed until we cried. If you want to know if there are pictures. There are. There is also a video. I will have to see if I can procure that for all of us to watch. 

Lesson for white water rafting. 

Life vests

Helmets

Intact boat

Valium? Lol

Hope that everyone has a wonderful Saturday. I love you. Always, kimmee

Ps. I did a thing. 6 or 8 inches cut.i feel so much lighter.

Remembering The Escambia River

 Good morning dear friends. It's been awhile since I've floated down a lazy river but those memories are still fresh in my mind. 

When we were kids, we lived for Saturday and Sunday, cause that meant swimming. 

Oh, not Pool type swimming but water you couldn't see through, slime on the bottom and an occasional water moccasin or alligator. 

It wasn't that we were any braver than you are about going in watering holes but we had no innate fear of anything. 

I can probably blame that on youth or conditioning, as our childhoods weren't spent in the Ocean where the sand on the beach is white and the water is blue. 

Ours were spent in Cold Creek in Jay or Swimming at Munson, Morris Creek, or one of the lil streams on the way to Ebenezer Chrurch or over in Century at the Gravel pit. 

Goodness, as I think back, we probably should have been more careful than to swim in a place where sand and gravel could have caved in on us as we swam. Lol. 

We were just kids though and like I mentioned, we had no fear of the unknown. We didn't spend our days thinking, what if?

We went for every experience we could soak up. 

I'm not saying we should not have a lil caution in our lives, considering it's a wonder we made it to adulthood but I'm saying, live a lil more. Try a few more things that maybe scare us a lil. Sure, we will be afraid. Our skin may give us goosebumps from the anticipation, but do it. 

Go to Egypt like my friend Liz. Go out and watch a sunrise when it's cold. Go out and let the moonlight seep into your bones or catch the biggest fish and let it go for the next fisherman. 

Live life like today could be your last, because it may be. 

I love you guys. I hope that you all know that. Always, Kimmee

(The pictures are from my sister Donna. My favorite Aunt Catherine at Morris Creek and the Escambia River where Daddy fished and we swam with the mocassins)

My Daddy

 I was thinking of Daddy this morning and his parents. He was born on Jan 21, 1912 and he said he weighed about 2 lbs. Now I don't know if they had a scale and it was probably just a guesstamate but he was little enough to be kept in a shoe box so he couldn't have been that big. 

His Mama, the Grandma that I talk about with the long hair that she put in a braid, was tiny so it was not a far stretch that she might have a preemie or tiny child. I can't imagine trying to keep a preemie child alive in a wood house with a wood stove for heat in winter. Although I shouldn't say that as we did the same thing with my first Grandchild, born a month early at 4 lbs and 2 oz and only 3.5 when we brought him home in Nov. 

Times were different then and even in a shoebox in a dresser drawer, I know it had to be cold. I can imagine Grandma holding her tiny boy, her first boy born after two girls and willing him to live, just as I did with mine that contracted whooping cough at age two. Night after night, rocking in the chair praying for life and for God's grace and somehow Daddy made it and my child did too. 

Grandpa wasn't a wealthy man but he had managed to buy some land outside Jay City limits and Grandpa had built a house. There was nothing left but some wood pieces the last time Donna and I looked many years ago but it was the home that my daddy grew up in. Daddy had to stop schooling when he was 12 and go to work for the family. He worked sawmill and field work like his Daddy and Granddaddy before him so he wasn't rich either. 

Life in 1912 was hard. His Daddy was 27 and Mama 26 with two girls, Loree and Thelma. I know that Grandpa was excited about having a boy because men in those days equated having a son with success. What it really meant was your family name would live on and I can see the importance of that as a Historian but it also glossed over that you had two daughters that were equally as important as your son, but that was the time and thinking then and in some places now.

There was a daughter Sudie Ann born after Daddy on Oct 1913 but she only lived two years. She died on Dec 13th 1915 and is buried at Sardis Cemetery where much of the Gilmore and Creamer family are interred. I have a middle name of Ann too and wonder if it came from her. I never thought to ask when my Two Aunts were telling stories to me and  Donna.

The year Daddy was born in 1912 saw so many things happen. New Mexico became our 47th State that year in Jan, followed by Arizona in Feb. In March Roald Amundsen announced the discovery of the South Pole. That same month The Girl Scouts were formed in Savannah by Juliette Gordon Low.  In April the famous ship The Titanic sank but I doubt that Daddy's family ever heard anything about any of these things. They could not read and did not have radios and such back then. It would have been in the Newspaper but I doubt they ever saw one of those, at that time either. It was pretty much word of mouth news back then. The local Gossip and you all know who I am talking about would be on the party lines of my youth and that is how news traveled in my day but in daddy's day, you didn't visit that much and grew all your own food so there wasn't the social aspect of seeing lots of people everyday like we do now. The world has exploded in the years since Daddy was born.

That same year  Native American Jim Thorpe won Gold at the Olympics in mismatched shoes he had found, because someone threw away the ones he had. He ran and won it in loafers, not running shoes. What an amazing feat that was. I am proud reading about it years later with my bit of Native blood running strong in my veins. It is shameful that this many years later, people of color still fight to be recognized as equal in our land but it still exist and we still hear about it in the news. 

Only a few short years later The First World War happened but Grandpa didn't go to War. He had 6 children by the end of the War with 5 living and was doing everything he could to make sure they had food on the table. He grew his food and Grandma fixed it for everyone to eat.   

The land was fertile where Grandpa's house was. It was near the Escambia River and they could grow most anything they wanted to eat. I do wonder where they bought their Flour, sugar and salt but I don't have anyone old enough to ask these questions anymore. I can guess that there was a store close by that they took a buggy  or horse too and spent their hard earned 50 cents for a big bag to take home. Sugar cane was freely grown in that area too so he may have made his own sugar and syrup like some of the people did on Morristown road when I was a child. I can only surmise these things as I have no one to ask. A reminder for us to ask the things we want to know before our parents and grandparents depart leaving us with unanswered questions.

Daddy grew tall despite the conditions of this birth and was a hard working man like his Mama. I would say Grandpa was too but I only ever saw Grandpa sitting while Grandma was working so don't know if he was a hard worker. His daughter Aunt Elma thought "Papa" hung the moon so I can guess that he was a hard worker and a good man. I didn't know him much. Grandma was my hero and the one that I went to see as much as I could. She baked Snickerdoodles and let me help her with the chores and then rewarded me with porch swing tea and cookies. It was the best of times with her and I am so grateful for those. 

Life was hard in those days and many since. When WWII happened my Uncle Hardy went to War but my daddy did not. He was married with a child of his own so stayed home working in the sawmill to take care of his little family. By Wars End another child was born so he had three mouths to make sure were fed. There is one thing I can say about Daddy is that he kept us fed, clothed and Sheltered my whole childhood, even when he drank, he worked and worked hard. I love and respect him for that and am grateful. 

I guess many of these memories are coming forward because that first child he had, my sister Ruby Lee is 81  years young today.  I told her this morning how beautiful I always thought she was and that she has a beautiful heart to go with it. I will always be grateful to her for keeping me safe  growing up.  

This is going to be a series and this is the first part. I wanted to get it on paper while my memory is thinking of it. I appreciate you all letting me ramble on about my life. I love you all and wish you a beautiful Fall Day. Always, Kimmee.

Birth Of My Heart. My Firstborn Child

 A long post of the birth of my first daughter whose birthday is today. I'm saving it for her here so it will never be lost. 

It's hard to say it was just a day because it was actually 3 days. I started to feel the pulling on my body 72 hrs before and even though this was my first birth, I knew that you were trying to come home. I was so scared, alone and knew that I would have to drive myself to the hospital so I didn't want to wait too late to leave Chula Vista for the Balboa Naval hospital. I had been to the Dr on that fateful 4th day before and he had "stripped my membranes", a practice they don't do anymore, Thank God, but it was done to me and it started the process of birthing. 

It was so painful early on and I was worried so that day around 10AM, I drove myself in and after examining me, they said I was only 1 to 2 CM and they sent me home. They told me to walk a lot and stay busy so I drove back home and walked up and down the lil hill where our trailer was parked. I visited with my elderly next door neighbors and they were very worried that I would wait too long to drive myself in so around 6 PM, I drove myself back to the hospital. I was a full 3 Cm by then and they weren't going to keep me again but I told them I was alone as my husband was deployed so they put me in a room by myself, gave me an enema, and it began. 

It was so slow and I started bleeding about 11 PM.  I was so embarrassed that I kept wiping myself with the lil kleenex on the side table. I kept getting out of bed to go to the bathroom to wipe and one of the nurses finally figured out what I was doing and said, don't do that anymore. If it gets Blood on the sheet, that's OK. It was so hard for me but I stopped wiping so that they could tell how much blood I was losing. 

The baby monitor on my belly was so loud and uncomfortable with those big straps they put across me but I made myself stay put and just listened to your heartbeat. Around midnight or one, I noticed a change in your heartbeat and called the nurse. She said it was alright and to just turn on my side and try to rest, which I did. 

But I couldn't just shut off the plopping of your heartbeat. It seemed like hrs later and around 5,  a bunch of " wanna be" Drs came into my room with an instructor and they talked about me. Right in front of me. That's when I knew I was a case now. Something was going wrong and they wanted the students to see it. I became furious and yelled at them to get out of my room. They looked at me like I was the one with the problem and they left. 

All I could concentrate on was your slowing heartbeat and I was praying for what seemed like hours , for you and I to live. I had become so worried that you were not going to make it. I prayed over and over,

 yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for though art with me. 

Over and over I whispered it to your heartbeat sound on the monitor, trying to impart some energy to that slow, ploppy heartbeat. I begged the nurses to tell the Dr throughout the morning but they just reassured me that everything was alright, when I knew it wasn't. I was only 8 CM. They kept telling me , it's a first pregnancy and these things take time but I was alone, so scared and listening to what I thought, was my daughter dying. 

Your  heart beat was only in the 80's now. I watched the monitor like a hawk all the while praying,  yea though I walk through the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for though art with me, over and over. 

It was probably only an hr but it seemed like forever when the Dr finally came to see me. I used to remember the name of the dr and I'm sure it's written in Wendi's baby book but I can't bring it forward now. I think the last name was Smith. 

He looked at the monitor, pulled the sheet up and asked how long has she been bleeding? They said since last night. He listened as I did,  to the heartbeat, at which time it sounded like a wet plop into a bucket and only about 58 beats to a minute and said prep her for surgery. They nurses sprang into action. Washed off my stomach, started to shave me for a C-section and then they could see hair from your head. You were trying to be born but You had no strength and I didn't either. 

They stopped shaving me and immediately took me down the hall to surgery. I was almost out of my mind with worry so it all seemed a blur of activity. They put me on a gurney type bed, stripped my gown off and put this huge light over my the area. I was so traumatized at this point that I was so exposed, so weak from blood loss and I couldn't heart your heartbeat anymore. 

They were moving in lightening speed but it seemed like slow motion to me. They seemed urgent and I didn't know why because they tell you nothing,  when something is wrong. 

The dr was down there working, they were telling me to push. I didn't know what any of it meant. I hadn't had anyone tell me what to expect, how to breathe, what to do. I was a stranger in a strange land at 21 years of age. 

I saw the dr grab a circular shaped tool and felt him insert it into my body. I didn't understand any of it. But what I found out later is that he was trying to help pull you out. They had seen the cord around your neck. So they pulled with the forceps and what seemed like finally, you came out at 7:22 AM. 

I saw your lifeless body, all blue, with black stuff all over your face and the first words out of my mouth were, she's dead. They didn't keep you long on that table. They suctioned your nose and mouth of the merconiam and cleaned your face and whisked you away. 

They sewed me up, took me to a recovery room where for hours, they massaged my ututerus. 

I can't begin to describe to you how much that hurt. If I thought the pain of childbirth was more than I could bear, the massaging felt so painful I cried. I felt so wimpy doing that but I was in an emotional state. The nurses were rough with me. 

They said if I didn't massage it, that they would and they were so rough. So I massaged and massaged until they took me to a ward with other mothers. They kept getting me up and I was white as a sheet. I was so pale, from loss of blood. 

The last time they got me up, they put me on the toilet and left me alone. I fainted, fell off the toilet to the floor and hit my head. When they came back I was sprawled on the floor and they finally seemed to get it that I was weak. 

12 hrs after you were born, I was in the ward. The other mothers had seen and fed their babies but I had not. An officer Dr came to see me when I fainted and he examined me. He took my hand and turned it over where the palm was entirely white. He said,  you're not going to get out of bed now without help and you're not going to be alone in the bathroom till you feel better. We need to give you a couple pints of blood but I was so scared of that so I refused. 

He said what baby did you have and I told him a lil girl but I didn't know anything about her. He said, what do you mean? I said I haven't seen her. I don't know if she lived or not and I was so sad and crying. I will never forget him patting my hand. Then I saw him walk over to the nurses station where he read them the riot act. He said , this girl doesn't know if her daughter lived or died. God, he was so mad. When he was done, he came to me with a wheelchair, helped me into it and took me down to the Nursery himself. 

Once there I saw you for the very first time. 12+ hrs since you were born. You were pink now, with wires all over your little body. You were breathing, sleeping like a lil angel and you had brown hair and oh so pale skin like a China doll. 

I was so thankful to this young Dr that i couldn't thank him enough. You were alive and your life gave me a burst of energy. I had someone else to live for now. All my life seemed to suddenly make sense. The abuse, my dads drinking, my mom leaving us, my bad marriage. All of it. I knew that I had to do all that to be here for you. You were my reason and you still are. 

They moved me from the smaller recovery ward to a long ward with about 32 rooms, filled with mothers like I was and for the first time that night, I got to hold you and try to feed you. I gave you a name Wendi Gail, the Gail being after my sister Donna. The nurses said Windy gale and I said no. Wendi Gail. They said, oh man. I don't know about that and they did hurricane windy hands and laughed. 

I didn't care what anyone thought. You were my Wendi Gail and I loved you with every fiber of my being. They told me you had to eat 2 ounces before I could take you home so I kept trying to achieve that every 2 or 3 hrs when they brought you to me.

You just couldn't eat that much so at the end of the 2nd day, I started feeding the plant in the room what you couldn't eat of the 2 ounces and told the nurses you ate it all. 

I had this thought that I needed to get you home by any means so that you would be safe.  They kept waking you up to hold you because you were one of the most beautiful babies they had seen so I worried you weren't being allowed to sleep. I knew they were waking you up to hold you because they told me. They didn't know how that worried me. 

I kept quiet, kept feeding the plant and on the 3rd day, they said I could go home. I put you in my green pinto wagon and took you home. Car seats weren't required then so I held you while I drive us home. I still can't believe that I did that to this day but I didn't want to just put you on a seat and more yet, I didn't want to be away from you for a minute. We had worked too hard to get you here. I drove the miles from San Diego to Chula Vista and walked inside my home,  a 2 bedroom trailer on blocks. I went next door to get my other baby, a 3 year old tan miniature dachshund named Scooby-Doo and got ready to introduce my first baby dog to my first baby child. 

The elderly neighbors gushed over you and said what a beautiful baby you were and they brought me things over the next week til my sister Donna came to visit. I was so happy to be home with you and even more happy that you had fought to live like I had fought to live. You were born at 7:22 on June  9th 1974 weighing 6 lbs. 9 ounces and 21 inches long and 21 hours after I entered the hospital. 

You were the same poundage as the day you were born. 6-9 and i was in labor with you for 21 hours which was my age. That started the marvelous, adventurous and miraculous life that we have shared. I love you with all my heart. Happy Birthday Wendi. You are my life's breath. Love,Mom