On November 20th, my twin daughters will be thirty-one years old. It seems like only yesterday they were born a month premature. Anne weighed 3 lbs. and Leigh weighed 6 lbs. but promptly lost a pound. Leigh had to be taken to the University of Kentucky Medical Center because she was suffering from a condition where she had too much blood and a hole in her heart. Anne had to remain in the local hospital until she reached five pounds before she could be released to come home. I went home to the farm without either baby!
I had to travel back and forth to the local hospital to feed and visit with Anne each day. Their father, John, went to UK Hospital to visit Leigh. Since I had a cesarean section it was hard on me to do much traveling.
On the sixth day, John, went by the hospital to see Leigh and they told him she was being released. We had no idea she would be coming home and he had no idea what to do. He had no clothes, blankets, or anything. The nurses wrapped her in a big adult size hospital gown and a blanket, gave him some bottles with milk and he carried her out to his truck.
In order for anyone to fully appreciate this story, I have to tell you a little bit about their father. John was 32 and had never been married when we met. I was 30. John was a cowboy. He wore wrangler jeans, boots, a big cowboy hat, drove an old pickup truck, liked his beer and could ride a horse and rope a steer with the best of them. He loved to rodeo, rode the bulls, and was great at the calf roping events. He stood six feet tall, with red hair, freckles, and a mustache, carried a snuff can in his back pocket and kept a dip of snuff in his lip. His favorite past time was telling stories and he could entertain anyone for hours. He loved people and people loved him. He was smart, educated, and a fun person to be around but he had no earthly idea what to do with this baby girl in his pickup truck that only weighed 5 lbs.
Leigh was screaming like a banshee while her dad tried to find someway to keep her from rolling out of the truck seat. Looking in the bed of the truck, John comes up with one of those empty cardboard beer cartons that used to hold a case of beer. He stuffed Leigh into the carton on the seat beside him, put a bottle in her mouth and headed for home. The drive took about an hour and fifteen minutes.
I saw him pull into the driveway at the farm from the kitchen window. He was very carefully carrying this box with stuff hanging out all around the sides. There were no cell phones in those days and I had no idea Leigh was with him. John burst through the back door yelling, "you are not going to believe what I have in this box" to the top of his lungs. That was Leigh's homecoming.
Anne remained in the hospital for a month and came home on December 20, 1977. The nurses spoiled her to death and she was the hospital's little darling. She was our Christmas bundle of joy that year.
Finally, both our girls were home doing well.
Today, they are beautiful, young women that make me so proud to be their mother. They are successful in their careers and bought a farm where they live together with their dogs and horses.
John lost his battle with cancer several years ago but he is alive in their hearts and his spirit guides them in their lives each day.
Happy Birthday girls. I love you very, very much and you light up my life.
I hope you enjoy the pictures.
Johnny, Leigh, Anne
Bathtime on the farm.
Mom, Dad, Anne, Leigh
Waiting on the horses to come in.
Ready to ride.
Waiting on the school bus!
You can visit Anne and Leigh by clicking on the link:
Twin Crossroads