Jerusha Bosarge

Bow-Quet
The day Jordan was born, the nurses at River Oaks Hospital twisted a tiny, peach-colored ribbon into a make-shift bow, and “glued” it to her dark, fuzzy head with K.Y. Jelly. I gently lifted all six pounds, fifteen ounces of swaddled, wiggling warmth from the glass-sided hospital bassinette, and fell in love. Everything about her was perfect: her crooked little toes escaping the pink and blue hospital blanket; her huge bright eyes, an enchanting blend of slate gray and baby blue, her fuzzy, chestnut hair reflecting the fluorescent lights; and that bow. .. a tiny, perfect fragment of ribbon sitting daintily on the top of her head.

Jordan is four, now. She has worn a bow in her hair every day for four years. Well, okay, maybe not every day. Certainly there have been times when she was sick in bed, or perhaps just lazing around in her pajamas without a bow (we’re not obsessed or anything). But, in general, if Jordan is fully dressed, then she is wearing a bow in her hair. It is simply a part of who she is.

Naturally, Jordan was wearing a bow the day Mary Clare died. It was black. Looking back, I wonder why I didn’t see that as an omen. She never chooses black. “It’s too dark,” she protests. But that day, she chose it of her own free will to match her denim zoo-animal dress. She said it reminded her of Daniel.

Daniel’s last visit was in July. It took Rebecca and her four boys eighteen hours to get to our home in Jacksonville from Little Rock, Arkansas. Jacob and Joshua were the oldest and rode in the “way back” of the brown van. That way, Rebecca could have easier access to the younger kids: Daniel (3) and David (1). Mary Clare rode inside Rebecca’s swollen belly.

Rebecca and the boys lived with us in Jacksonville for nearly a month. It was close quarters. Nine and a half people (including Mary Clare) were crammed into a two bedroom apartment with less than 1300 square feet of living space. But that didn’t bother us. It never did. Rebecca and I had endured far worse. Nothing could shake our friendship.

The highlight of our visit together was a trip to the Jacksonville Zoo. Jordan’s favorite part, as usual, was the reptile room. It was so funny to watch such a seemingly prissy little girl captivated by the dark and mysterious creatures. But, that’s Jordan. She often understands things that most people misunderstand. She sees beauty where others can not. Jordan and I both cried when Rebecca and the boys left this time. It was the last time I saw Rebecca’s true smile.

Inventing Ott: The Legacy of Arthur C. Guyton
Have you ever dreamed of becoming a doctor or a scientist? Perhaps you fantasize about being a teacher or an inventor. Did you ever wonder what it was like to be a soldier, a sailor, a carpenter, a writer, or a ham radio operator? Inventing Ott: The Legacy of Arthur C. Guyton is the story of a Mississippi boy who grew up to become all of the above and more. It is the story of how young “Ott” Guyton became the legendary Arthur C. Guyton: Dean of The University of Mississippi Medical Center, Father of Modern Cardiovascular Physiology, sole writer of many editions of one of the best-selling textbooks of all time, inventor of the electric wheelchair, dear friend of William Faulkner, and father of ten doctors. But most importantly, it is the story of how a young boy’s curiosity and love of learning turned into a lifetime of accomplishments.

To learn more about this book, click on the title.

Cocoa's Story
Cocoa’s Story
By Jerusha Bosarge

“What? What’s wrong!?” I nearly shouted, sitting up straight in my hard, green chair. “I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon in February, and I had just sat down with a warm cup of Chi Tea at the Barnes & Nobel Café when she called.
“I’m sorry sweetie.” She sobbed, and then the line went dead.
I quickly scrolled through all my cell phone numbers. There it is . . . Marsha Rose Davis. I pushed SEND, but the line was busy. I selected HOME on my cell phone, and pushed SEND. “Hey, Joey. Did Marsha Rose just call there?”
“Yea, she sounded pretty upset. You should call her back.”
“I tried! Her line was busy. What happened?”
“Something’s wrong with Cocoa dog, I think. I could barely understand her.”
“Gotta go. She’s calling on the other line.”
“OK. Bye.”
Click.
“Marsha? What happened?”

To read the rest of this article, click on the title.

Pascagoula Native Makes Mississippi History
PASCAGOULA NATIVE MAKES MISSISSIPPI HISTORY
By Jerusha L. Bosarge

JACKSON -- Pride beamed from the faces of his family, as they sat in the green coliseum bleachers anxiously awaiting his name to be called. “Dr. Joseph Richard Bosarge,” announced Dan Jones, Dean of the University of Mississippi School of Medicine. The voice was answered by thundering applause. It was a special day for the University of Mississippi Medical Center, and a triumphant one for Pascagoula native Joseph Bosarge, better known locally as “Joey”. On May 28, Joey became the first person ever to graduate from the University with both a Doctor of Medicine degree (M.D.) and a Doctor of Philosophy degree (Ph.D.) for his work in the Microbiology department.

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The Cakemaster
The Cakemaster

“Hey Babycakes!” she shouts, eyes wide opened, as I enter. “Come in!”
Nestled between the JPD traffic division and Dave Swann’s gun repair on Old Canton Road, there is a tiny green shop called Obbie’s Cakes and Chocolates. Inside, a tall fair-skinned lady, Marsha Rose Davis, pulls her chestnut hair into a ponytail and is hand-sculpting a pound of white chocolate into a fruit topiary.
I step through the glass-framed doorway and into the foyer, where I immediately smell the familiar, comforting aroma of sweet white almond cake baking. I am reminded of the holidays and family and cheer.

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Confessions Of A Breastfeeding Failure
This is a humorous feature article describing my first attempt to nurse my baby, and the absurd encounter with an electric pump that followed.