So thankful you were given the gift of life 65 years ago today, Happy Birthday, Shery Batliner Reeves!  George and I were so fortunate to have shared many happy years with you, just a few years shy of 65.  When we go back to 1965, we see your beautiful smile; can not picture you without your smile.  Our ”summer school” session was just one good time.  Don’t remember anyone having a 4-point.  Those were the good ole days – just focused on being together and having some fun, and at times “with a beer buzz in the morning” – studying, not so much!  Remember your car, “Baby Doo Doo”?  We took some interesting trips in BDD.  Thanks, Mr. B, for the convertible but not so much for the color!

Youth – it was wonderful.  There wasn’t anything we couldn’t do.  Though neither of us “saved the world,” we certainly did at times save each other.  Thank you so much for always being there for me.  Back then, we thought 40 was “old,” could not even fathom 65. The past year has been so painful – there are no words – just want to remember the good times with you today, and that has to include the births of the children you love so much, Emily and Rob. I am very thankful today for knowing and loving both of them.  You were so young and excited with each birth, and so were we.  You were successful at multi-tasking as a busy full-time mother of two and your full-time frame shop business, always smiling.  When we used to ask, “How did we do it?” the answer is even more evident today at 65: we were young!

Wish you were here to rub it in that I am older than you — the only “mean” thing you ever did to me.  Your beautiful loving spirit is with us today, as every day, as is your forever smile.  Wish you and Rob could have stayed here longer but we are so very thankful for the gifts of life we shared for the time you were here.  We love and miss you so much.  Happy Birthday!

Wanda and George

Today is her birthday.  I just had mine a few days ago.  She never let me forget I am older than her.  We always shared birthday wishes; it gave her an opportunity to rub it in.  I so miss her.  Know that she loves you so much and her spirit is with you in all that you do.  Emily and Rob-you are real troopers, just like your mother!

I did not forget your Mother’s 63rd birthday April 23-just couldn’t get the remembrance on the computer. I missed being able to call her and commiserate the numbers-big numbers! I’m only 15 days older but she always made her point of being younger than me. It is so easy to picture her in my favorite photo of us in college dancing at DG party. She is wearing a beautiful silver and brown lace-look paper dress with silver glittered hose-we wore hose back then everywhere. She had the haircut I’m seeing today a lot lately, almost shaved short on one side and a long curve forward toward the face on the other side. Amazing that hairstyle came back (kinda). We had a great time with the live band dancing the night away. When I get my hands on that photo, I will give you a copy. She was the talk of the campus with the paper dress. She was always a fashion icon wearing Mr. B’s dress shop latest. I miss laughing with her about the good times we had together. Fact is, I just miss her.

Have a wonderful birthday today. 32 is a good place to be. Enjoy it!

We love you,
George and Wanda

Shery and I always had fun and we enjoyed each other’s company.  And of course I still and always will miss her.

Her parents had a store called Mr. B’s.  For many years I loved to shop there during high school, college and long after.  It was there I saw Shery often.  Then I married and moved from Texas and lost touch with Shery.

In 1978 our family moved to Shreveport.  I unexpectedly ran into Shery while waiting at Sear’s to get a baby picture taken.  We immediately picked up our friendship again.

Several years later my family left Shreveport when Shery was pregnant with Rob.  The big debate was whether he should be called Hamilton – to be shortened to Ham!!  Trust me, we were all in favor of Rob and NOT Ham!  The debate was o interesting and challenging for Jim and Shery.

My memories of Shery are precious.  She was always a nice person to everyone.  She had an infectious smile and lovely demeanor.  She was always a pleasure to be around.  Her abundant talents are too many to list, and she was always willing to share them with everyone.  She had the patience of a saint.

Shery taught me to needlepoint and cross-stitch.  I enjoyed all the projects she helped me with.  I still have a pillow she made for me in 1979.  It has been on my sofa all these years.  I love the butterflies and how they represent the transistions we go through in life.

Shery faced many transitions, but she never let her illness or accident get her down.  Her sense of humor always tickled me during our telephone conversations.  Just a small example was how she described her leg “like a shish kabob,” and the way she wore her hair as a “comb over” after her cancer radiation treatments.  She laughed her way through those tests.

I sent a perfume to Shery called “Beautiful.”  It was a favorite of my mother’s, who also suffered with illness.

Emily, your wonderful mom left to your family a “Beautiful” legacy in the way she lived her life.  She appreciated all things beautiful.  She never let her disability get her down.  She was blessed with talents and we, as her friends, were blessed with her gifts.  Her friendship was a treasure.

I first met her in Dianne Roper’s quaint little shop in Pierremont Common, In Stitches, she had displayed some needlework in frames–Shery’s framing–and Shery was  passing out her business cards.

It didn’t take long.  Women were buying materials, thread, fabric at In Stitches, then home to begin our “therapy” (house, meals, laundry, children, activities; it could be overwhelming) and all spare moments were used in our needlework.  And when the project was completed, it was off to Shery’s frame shop.  So often, many of us didn’t know what we wanted, and Shery would take our project and present the many options of frames, borders (or not) and if we couldn’t make up our mind, we would ask her which one SHE liked.  Shery’s pick was invariably the one we went with and really liked.

Her framework graces my walls and, to this day, people still ask who does my framing.

Her children were beautiful; they looked like they stepped out of a storybook, only a year apart, Emily and Rob.

Opening day of school, South Highlands Elementary on August 29, 1983: I am seated in a kindergartner’s chair, my little girl standing next to me, hovering close, the room is crowded with other mommies and their five-year-olds and across from me is Shery Reeves.  We smile in acknowledgment, our children’s eyes meet, Emily, with dog ears, peering out from her mother’s side, spots Amanda and they stare at each other, recognizing one another from the frame shop but not saying anything, not smiling.  I lean over and tell Amanda “you remember Miss Shery, we have been to her frame shop and that’s Emily, her little girl, you remember Emily.”  She does not acknowledge anything, just keeps her eyes fixed on Emily.  I notice that Shery does the same thing: “you recognize Miss Gene and her daughter, Amanda, they were by the frame shop just last week.”  Emily’s eyes stayed glued to Amanda’s.

Funny the things we never forget.

After the accident, Shery was in the hospital for several days, perhaps weeks and the children were farmed out to neighbors, but one evening I received a call from Jim.

He needed Emily and Rob to stay at a neighbor’s for two nights, maybe three–work, hospital, home–he only had two hands. He had found a place for Rob, but Emily would only stay with us.  I told him Emily could stay as long as she liked.

Amanda was thrilled–a sister for two, maybe three nights!  Emily was always a joy.

With much love and fond remembrances, Gene Self.