Dearest Isabella

  I gotta  warn you: This is going to be pretty long.  In fact, I think that I will break it up into several installments posted over the next couple of weeks. That way it won’t require such an investment of your time. Thanks for indulging me and reading!  I hope you will find it was definitely worth your time.

Dearest Isabella,

I flew to Dallas on the Tuesday morning that you were 10 days old to help your Mom and to get to know you. I was sooo excited to hold you for the first time because when I saw you in the hospital the day that you were born no one was allowed to hold you in the NICU where you spent the first couple of days. That first Tuesday getting to hold and kiss you and just look in your beautiful face was FANTASTIC!

Unfortunately, your Mom was not feeling very peppy so I thought that my timing in coming was pretty good. How true that proved to be! By 9:00 that night, your Mom had passed out and your Dad had called 911.  Your Mom and Dad left in an ambulance and your Mom wound up having to spend the night and most of the next day in the hospital.  Of course, your Dad went to the hospital and stayed with your Mom so, guess who had a brand new baby to care for all on her own!?

One of your Mom and Dad’s neighbors came over and helped me figure out all of the bottles that I would need to feed you that night. One of your Mom’s best friends since childhood, Sarah, came over to lend a little moral support. I sent Sarah home around 1:00 am and the rest of the night, I proceeded to hold/rock/feed and listen to you to see if you were breathing, Isabella.  I prayed some specific scriptures over you.  One was "The Lord is my Protector and Defender."  As I held you and stared at your beautiful face I couldn’t help but ponder all the people that would come into your life, which lead me to remember all the amazing women that had been in my life.  I wished for you some one like these women (They are in no particular order of importance, except for the last few):

Connie Stark:  My church choir teacher.  I always thought she was beautiful and boy could she lead the pack of unruly church kids in some wonderful songs to sing in the sanctuary.  I can’t sing “Fairest Lord Jesus” without thinking of how Connie tapped her foot on the floor to keep time and made us watch her as she directed us with flamboyant style.  She could also lead us in the best fun songs ever.  I still sing “Do your Ears Hang Low” and “The Grand Old Duke of York” while I am photographing kids or playing with your cousins, Jack and Sarah.

Dixie Dice:  Dixie was my kind of woman!  Another foot tapper, she was my tap dance teacher and owned Dixie Dice School of Dance.  Her married name was Dixie Watson but she went by her maiden name (Go Dixie—way back in the 50’s!).  She would fly to New York, go to Broadway plays and then lock herself in a hotel room and write our dance recital.  I can still see her now as she pulled her skirt above her knees and taught us shuffle ball changes until we got it right.  I can still see my Mom in the waiting room with all the other moms sewing sequins on our costumes.  Thank goodness that your Mom didn’t know about Dixie because I would have failed sequin sewing.  I have vivid memories of wild tap music and sparkly costumes. I can still remember the smell of the greenroom at her studio!  Jane, her daughter, taught us ballet but it was that wild tap dancing taught by Dixie that made my heart sing.  A love of Broadway musicals was deeply instilled at a very young age.

 

TO BE CONTINUED