“I walked not in the way of righteousness...” Part V

Let’s sum “My Story” up, so far:
• I had one grandmother who was a bi-racial/feuding Hatfield.
• I had one grandmother who everyone considered a saint but married ‘bad boys’.
• I had one grandfather who was a doctor, feuder and killed by the KKK.
• I had one grandfather who was a convicted murderer & a state of Kentucky Marshall.
• I had a scrappy hillbilly alcoholic feuding/murderer for a Momma.
• I had a passive-aggressive moonshiner for a Daddy.
• I have a retarded brother who is one of the smartest guys I know.
I would say that sums it up so far...wouldn’t you?

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Okay, let me get it all off my chest...:
☻ “When I was born I was very young.”
☺ “I was born in the hospital; I wanted to be near my mother.”
☻ “When I was born I was so ugly, the doctor slapped my mother.”
☺ “When my Dad saw me for the first time he said, ‘He’s a treasure...let’s bury it.”
☻ “I was so ugly, the nurses fed me with a sling shot.”
☺ “I was so traumatized when I was born I couldn’t speak or walk for months afterward.”

Now that that is over with...let’s get down to my birth story...By the way - I was not supposed to be a baby, I was supposed to be a tumor. The doctor said that my Momma was too old to have children. She was 43 and had gone through the change of life a year earlier. He wanted to schedule surgery, but Momma said “NO!!!” She was going to hold on to hope. My Daddy and her family were very concerned for her health - especially as the tumor grew. Momma wasn’t concerned or worried until the tumor started kicking!!
She was watching Rasslin’ on TV (Daddy was at work, Doug was asleep) when she felt a severe pain, then her belly started making some very exaggerated movements. She phoned the doctor at home (yes, there was a time this was common practice) and told him that the tumor he was so worried about just did a frog splash off of her ribs and landed on her kidney. He said that she needed to be at his office first thing in the morning. She was there and he finally admitted Momma was pregnant. He guessed that she was about 8 months along and she should go home and get ready for a baby.
It should go without saying that this was very good news to all involved.
Momma wanted a girl so bad; she knew her new born was going to be a girl. So she started preparing for the arrival of her daughter. She bought pink dresses, pink sleepers, pink booty’s, pink blankets, pink...(You see where this is going don’t you?). I wore pink for two years. To top it all off, she picked out the perfect name for her new bundle of joy - Beulah Jean! I would be named after her favorite sister and her favorite niece.
The time came for the baby (me) to come and...nothing; not even a tummy ache. The doctor assured Momma and Daddy both that I was alive, Momma assured everyone I was still kicking. I just seemed very content to stay where I was.
I have a theory. I know that God knew what I was going to be like, He was forming me (“Did you not pour me out like milk and curdle me like cheese, clothe me with skin and flesh and knit me together with bones and sinews? You gave me life and showed me kindness, and in your providence watched over my spirit.” Job 10:10-12 (NIV)

"The Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of the Almighty gives me life.” Job 33:4 (NASB).

“For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother's womb. I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well” Psalm 139: 13, 14 (NASB)
He knew I was going to be 6’ and weight 220 lbs by the time I was 13 and that I would be able to bench press over twice my weight. He knew that a lot of boys were going to get hurt giving me a hard time about my name. Because He is full of grace, I believe that the Father was giving my Momma a chance to change her mind about the name. Trouble was - she wasn’t changing her mind. God, full of wisdom, knew something was going to have to be done so He changed me into a male. It may sound strange, but that is my story and I’m sticking to it!!
At last, in the early hours of May 24th I arrived. For eight months I had been a tumor, for the 9th month I was a girl and for the 10th month I was late. I have been oppositional ever since.
It was time for Momma to leave the hospital but they were not going to release me because I didn’t have a name yet. Momma was so sure that I was going to be a girl; she didn’t give thought to a boy’s name. As she fumed in her room, a song came on the radio, her favorite song: “O Danny Boy”. I already had a cousin named Larry-Boy so this would be perfect!! She told my Daddy to go tell the nurses my name was Danny-Boy. This did not set well with my Daddy at all. He wanted my name to be Preston after him. (Funny thing here - Daddy didn’t like Preston so he legally changed his name to Press). By the time Daddy got to the nurses station, I went from being Danny-Boy Parsons to Preston Danny Parsons. Daddy didn’t bother to tell Momma this, not wanting to upset her (or at least be able to get home and hide her shot-gun).
When my birth certificate came in the mail a few weeks later, my Dad froze. However, when Momma asked him to read it to her (Momma had a fourth grade education and this was printed, but the form had so many words on it she couldn’t make sense of it), Daddy felt like he should confess, sort of... He told my Momma that the nurses said I couldn’t be named Daddy-Boy so he told them my name was Danny Preston. Though not happy, Momma accepted it and life went on.
To recap once again:
I was a tumor
I was Beulah Jean
I was late
I was Danny-Boy
I was Danny Preston
I was really Preston Danny
All of this before I breathed a month; and people wonder why I am so weird!!