My oldest child was born in Germany, where I was living with my first husband who was in the Army. In 1971, the Army was giving early discharges to enlisted men, and my husband was one of them. So, when Seth was not quite six weeks old, I flew home to Atlanta with him the day before Christmas Eve.
My brother's girlfriend, who was later his wife, was visiting at my parents house for Christmas from California. My return home was a surprise for everyone, because we did not know I was going to be allowed to fly. I only found out at the last minute. So, when I got to Mama's house, everyone was there, and they all got to meet Seth and he was passed around to be admired by everyone.
A month or so later, when my soon to be sister in law wrote a thank you note to my mother for her hospitality, she inquired about the health of "baby Sledge". We all laughed about that, but the name has stuck to my son now for more than 38 years.
My second child was born when my son was two years old, eleven days after his birthday. She was named Rebecca Jean.
When Rebecca was about two weeks old, my mother came and picked up to take us to the grocery store with her. My sister and her friend were also along for the ride.
My sister's friend asked my son what his baby sister's name was, and he replied "Rejecca Bean." She has been called that ever since.
And my last child, Emily, was born with a thick head of hair. By the time she was two, her hair was to her shoulders, and was very full and slightly wavy. My father always called her Farrah, after Farrah Fawcett, because of the way her hair self styled itself. No one else ever called her that, but I am sure if my father was still alive, he would still be asking me "How's Farrrah?" whenever he might ask about her.
A Crappy Story With A Good Ending
1 week ago