What I Learned In My Name.

Leslee. I met another one the other day, another L E S L E E. She was the first one I ever met face to face.

Lesley was a last name in England. It means, “dweller in the gray fort.” At first I thought, “great, my name means some big old gray house.”  

But then I thought, “Princesses dwell in gray forts.”  And Roger means “good with a spear.”  So they kind of go together right?

A fort is big and safe with a moat, and a drawbridge, and thick, thick walls.  My fort also has windows that stream light out into the dark so you know where to come. It has soft beds and yummy dinner. (even though we might have take out.)  

It’s a safe place for friends, family and extra family.  My dear extra kids have rooms here: Shayna and Rachel and Heather and Sami Jo. They have found peace and a warm bed in my fortress at 250 Grove Street, or in my former fortress in Tunkhannock. Now my house is open to Shayna’s beautiful son Townes, and Heather’s beautiful boy, Ayden. 

Emma still has a room here, and books in my basement even though she was only my kid for a summer.  Other kids have room here: Jen Clapp and Jesse Littleton have been added by falling in love with my kids, and Baby Clapp has a room reserved for him/her already.   

Looking at all those people, and all of you who read this, it’s a good thing I dwell in a fort. I have enough room for all of you and for friends I haven’t met yet. Stop by. I’ll leave the light on.