My Name Is Story..

I was the first person

to ever truly belong to my mother

I was a piece of her, 

A fleshy imprint of her dreams

And girlhood wishes,

Yet new and unknown.

She named me Jennifer Leann,

The fair lady she had been waiting for.

The stories she told me in my crib

Were even better that 

Guinevere's and Arthur's-

Bears and balloons dancing on the wall

To the tune of my mother's tongue.

She sat in her rocker for days,

Counting her cross-stitches,

Her needle making hearts and words-

A sweet little tete-a-tete with thread.

My name in raised letters at the top,

A proverb and premonition underneath,

Spelling out the wisdom of my mouth

And the kindness of my tongue.

She knew I was meant to be her first story,

But she had more stories to tell.

Sisters she never had-

The whispers, the fights,

The ability to love and hate at the same time-

So she gave them to me.

She spent hours sewing matching dresses,

Three breathing dolls to play dress-up. 

~Jennifer Coombe~

Note from Heather-State Fair 2006-Ed is the bear Edison

Me with Jenn-10 days old-1986

Mother's Day school project from Jenn

Jenn and Heather in the crib together-1988

Homemade card from Heather for Mother's Day

Me, Wendy, Heather and Jenn-Wendy 2 days old-1990

Mother's Day school project-Wendy

Heather, Wendy and Jenn-1991

Heather, Jenn and Wendy-1993

Heather, Wendy and Jenn-1996

Snoopy drawing by Heather

Jenn, Heather and Wendy-Heather's Birthday

Wendy, Jenn, Heather and Me-May 2008

Thanksgiving Day-2008-Jenn, Heather, Wendy and Pea

Mimi, Pea, Wendy and Heather-March 2009

Note from Heather-2002