Saturday, August 4, 2012

Cajun Corner- Vol. 4, No.29

Cajun Corner – Vol. 4, No. 29 – August 4, 2012

Bon Jour!  Welcome to Cajun Stitchery’s weekly email and welcome to our family.


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Right now I am totally and utterly consumed with babies.  This morning around 10:00 my son, Hank, called and said that my great granddaughter is hatching.  Where did he get that sense of humor?  Makayla Re’Nae was born at approximately 10:50 central time, that’s 11:50 a.m. Tampa time.  She was born at Brandon Hospital in Brandon, Florida.   She weighs 6 pounds 13 ounces.  She has all 10 fingers and 10 toes. Hank promises to post photographs on Facebook. 

I am a weeper and right now the tears of joy are streaming down my face. Mama used to get so irritated with me because I would cry at the drop of a hat for sadness or happiness.  I don’t know why. It is just me.

My daughter-in-law, the RN, was able to assist during delivery.  How special is that?

That reminds me of the story of Nancy’s birth.  Mama was in Lafayette and went into labor.  Her mother, Flavie, took Mama to Lafayette General.  They put Mama on a gurney and they waited.  Flavie kept telling the nurses that “the baby is coming.”  Well, she should know.  She had 8 children.  The nurses kept them waiting.  Finally, as it is with most women in this family, Flavie would wait no longer.  She grabbed a doctor’s or nurses’ jacket, put on a surgical mask, and rolled the gurney into the OR and delivered my sister herself.

The following day after Nancy’s birth (on November 7, 1945), my grandmother, Flavie, came to the hospital to visit Mama and Nancy.  Mama was crying because her lips were so chapped and the nurses had nothing to sooth her lips.  Flavie said, “I’ll be back.”  About an hour later, Flavie walked into the front door of Lafayette General with a large box of medical supplies and loudly proclaimed, “I have brought this poor hospital some medical supplies since they don’t even have lip balm for my poor daughter’s chapped lips.”  Another trait that is common in the women of our family. 

Right now I am waiting on a call from my son telling me the room number so we can send flowers.  You know I’m not going to wait too long until I call the hospital myself.

I had two children.  Both of my children were boys, which I believe was God playing a joke on me. I think God is still laughing because I didn’t’ know what to do with my boys except watch in awe.  Until giving birth to my boys, I was surrounded by girls.  No brothers.  We lived in a house full of frills and lace. I certainly never realized that boys were actually alien creatures. 

There is a special bond between a mother and her son and I have always been very close to my boys.  We lost my youngest son, Jeff, when he was 28 years old.  Hank is now 43.  Jeff never married.  Hank married a woman with three children.  He never had biological children.  My three grandchildren are my step-grandchildren, but I love them as though they were my blood. We have watched them grow and cried and laughed with them. 

I was raised with a step-father, Johnny, who I consider my real father.  I did not know my biological father since he died when I was 10 months old.  There is a special place in my heart for a man, or woman, who has so much love that they will raise another’s child as their own.  George did this, too, since Hank is the biological son of my first husband who was killed in Vietnam.  George is the only father that Hank has ever known.

So, here we all are, about as stepped as you can get, waiting on this precious miracle from God.  Okay, I have to stop because the tears are flowing yet again.

We’ll do embroidery next week.  Right now I’m being a grand grandmere.

Have a wonderful week.

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Sent straight from heaven up above
Came an angel for me to love
To hold and rock and kiss good night
To wrap my arms around real tight

Source: Baby Poems - New Baby Poems


C’est tout, mes amis

Peggy Henshall

Cajun Stitchery

(850) 261-2462

P.S.  You are always welcome to stop by and look at all of the catalogs and pass some time with me, cher.

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