Billie Grable

I’m the fourth girl and middle child of seven children. I was named after my Uncles, Bill and Gene, and I think my grandma explained why best. Ultrasounds were not available back in the fifties. The best way to determine the sex was simple: hypothesis. And after three girls, everyone theorized that this baby was a boy. My father had two jobs – a fulltime day gig at a steel mill, and a part time job at a local gas station. He was working at the gas station when Mom went into labor and started making her frantic calls. He told her just one more hour – the extra pay would be worth the wait. That hour stretched to several more until she screamed NOW. When Dad finally picked Mom up, her pains were coming fast and furious. He decided to take the shortcut to the hospital – a trek that required crossing over the railroad tracks in his old pickup truck. The beat up ride bounced all over the tracks – and sent Mom flip-flopping all over the cab. And that is when, my grandmother told me, my penis fell off. Since the name William Eugene had already been chosen – they agreed on the feminine version – Billie Jean. Maybe my grandmother’s colorful story of how I entered into the world – combined with my Gemini personality – is why I love to write. It took years of rewrites to bring my first novel, The Weeping Willow Sings, to fruition. There were times when I left it aside and chastised myself for ever thinking I had what it takes to become a published author. But the characters continued to resonate in my mind and they never allowed me to abandon the project completely. There were many compelling reasons for making the decision to self-publish my novel. The first and top reason was my mother. Dementia had taken Mom's mind and robbed her of being present in the last years of her life. On a good day, I felt as if we truly connected; only to have the moment dissolved by a puzzled look on her face or a betraying question -- "Have we met before?" Still, I cherish those brief episodes when the past and present came together in my mother's mind and we once again had a solid connection. In those moments, I was given the priceless gift of her loving presence.