I dont remember much anymore. I dont know if it is age, this onset of Dementia thing I got going on, years of beers and other things, or what. But I still remember the important stuff. I remember 33 years ago today. Sherry and I were getting ready to go to the hospital. We were only one day away from bringing home our first daughter. Our first child only lived a week and never made it home. At least not to our home. I had no idea how my life was about to change. Lesli arrived kicking and screaming the next day and hasnt stopped yet. Sherry lost too much spinal fluid due to a loused up epidural and had to remain flat on her back for a week.The first night home Les pooped in my hand and I got it all over the bed. And her. And me. I had to feed her, give her a bath, change the sheets, and take a shower. By the time I got through, it was time to start all over again. The second night her eye swelled shut due to a reaction to some meds and at midnight it was off to the emergency room (just one of many, many trips). The third night we discovered she had colic and would keep us up all night for the next 6 months. At age seven she was selected for the University of Arkansas-Little Rocks Summer Laureate/University for Youth program. At eight she won a baseball throwing contest and beat everyone in her school, including boys who were two years older than her. At nine she played in her first softball league. At the district tournament that year we were short some players and she played shortstop, left field and rover at the same time. We won. (Did you notice how I said we?) At nine she got sick and missed a month of school while her mother and I went bonkers. She grew to be an inquisitive, bright, independent young lady with a heart of gold. She went through a school shooting at Jonesboro while locked in the library by herself, was robbed at gunpoint while managing a Papa Johns Pizza joint, hit a grand slam to help beat the number three team in the nation, won a National Merit Scholarship (thats a big one!) and melted the hearts of several young men. All before the age of eighteen. Now she is the mother of 40% of my grandkids. She lives just down the street and is always stopping by. Yup, thirty-three years later and shes still bothering me. Happy birthday Lesli Ann Jones-Easley. I love you.
Posted on: Sat, 16 Nov 2013 22:09:50 +0000
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