I have a variety of things to share in this post. More memorabilia from my own life but also a story written by someone else, that is my favorite story of 'the faith of a child'. The Bible says, having, pure, simple, trusting, child-like, faith in God is very important: "He (Jesus) called a little child to him and placed the child among them and He said: 'Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.Therefore whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.'" [Matthew 18:2-4 NIV] As it is the holiday season, children, are frequently the focal point, for the activities that are going on as part of the celebration. Christian children are in Nativity plays, and decorating Christmas trees. Jewish children, are helping to light the candles on the family's menorah and spinning the dreidel. Others are learning the seven principles of Kwanzaa, and lighting their kinara. I wrote a, Christian, devotional, for this blog, the first year of its creation (almost 4 years ago!), and have included the link to it. [https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/12/thank-you-its-perfect-gift-for-me.html] The story that I will share with you, this month, "The Faith Of A Child" by Diana Honaker, isn't a holiday story but has the true meaning of one. After all, what is the foundation of the Christmas message? It's John 3:16. "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." God, so LOVED, the world, that He GAVE. This story that I love, and want to share with you here, was published in DECISION magazine [Billy Graham Evangelistic Association], in March 1999.I have no personal affiliation with the ministry but the story warms my heart every time I read it. It is a real reminder of the trusting faith that moves the Lord. I will end this post with that sweet story, but first, I will share some, other, sweet, and not so sweet, things, about my own life story. I have not lived a charmed life.
While sorting through my memorabilia I came across an old photograph of me that was probably taken when I was around 7, or 8, years old, on Christmas morning. I am holding a doll that I just got from Santa Claus. Because I am looking back over my entire life, in hindsight, in this blog, including from the perspective of my being 66 years old now, I am struck by these moments from my past that the old photos portray. These memories, all helped shape the person that I am, for better, and for worse. The photo of me (below) hugging my baby doll displays my innocence. But, right around this time, there was a season of, extreme, marital stress between my parents, which was triggered by my father's lingering anger, hurt, and resentment from my mother's earlier infidelity, and her considering leaving him and taking the children with her then (3 of the 4 being his) that led not only to physical domestic abuse but truly terrifying incidents between them that I heard and sometimes saw while all 3 of my siblings seemed to, obliviously, sleep through those. Those things shattered my sense of safety, frightened me, to depths that, I could not have even articulated at that tender age, even if I had dared to (which I did not; stuffing it all deep down inside me, instead), and scarred me for life, leaving a legacy of anxiety and OCD, and other things that I still have to grapple with, every day of my life, to this day. When my mother got sick and then died, my sister got back in touch with me, during that time, primarily because as Executor for the Will she needed me, to sign off on things, to settle our mom's estate, but, I had been No Contact, with the family, for many years. She told me, then, that, prior to our father finally divorcing our mother late in life, she had also witnessed fights between the two of them that escalated into physical assaults, on one another, and she had to step in, to break it up. When I escaped the family dysfunction, and went No Contact with them, to try to save what was left of my mental health, I left all those, jarring, scarring, things, behind me, until I ended up being a domestic abuse victim myself, when I married.
I always found it surprising, that my father ever even cared enough to try to keep us with him, had their marriage broken up, decades, before, it finally did, because this man was not affectionate, or affirming, and was rarely emotionally expressive toward his children. At least the years that I was under his roof; and, beyond. Add to that, his towering stature, at 6'2" or so, and he was a formidable father to have to, physically, look up to, when I was a small child. He 'disciplined' us by spanking us, with flyswatters, thorny rosebush branches, or his huge hands, leaving marks, on our tender-skinned bodies, that lasted for days. The photo of him (below) is an accurate depiction of his usual demeanor, and ongoing mood, 99% of the time. In fact, he actually looks 'warmer' and more relaxed in this picture, than he normally did! Most often his expression was something between a sulk and a hostile glare if he even seemed to take notice of our presence in the room with him as he parked himself on the couch, in the den, almost all of the time that he was home, and sat staring at the TV, from the time he got home, until the time he went to bed, never wanting to converse with us, or get to know us as we grew up and into the people we became, with individual identities, of our own, apart, from, being his offspring.
That is why, the, one, letter, that he ever wrote to me, in my life, so outraged and offended me. Below, is the letter in its entirety, verbatim. I will explain, afterward, why, it made me so angry, at him, since the way I was treated, by him, my whole life, had, everything, to do with that. Here is one anecdotal account, of a different situation that came up between my father and I, though, before I share the letter with you, that will also shed some light on why it affected me, so negatively: One day my sister brought home her current boyfriend at the time and the young man built a fire in the livingroom fireplace (which is pictured above, with the photos on the mantle) but he forgot to open the damper. Smoke quickly filled the room, and ultimately my mother said that she had to have repainting done due to the smoke damage. As Dad was about to come home, any minute, and he was, always, quick to be critical, and irritable, about things going awry, usually before he ever sought out the facts first, if at all, I went outside to meet him, as he arrived, and told him what had just happened, hoping that, he would not say anything, mean, or angry, then, upon walking in and seeing and smelling all the smoke, to further embarrass the young man visiting. But, when I told him about it, my father just glared at me in a very disapproving way, mad at me for telling him because he seemed to think that I was just going behind others' backs to somehow make myself look good! He was always an impossible man to please it seemed, regardless of whatever efforts I made, to be caring, and helpful. I had thought that, giving him a 'heads up' with the situation would avoid any caustic comments by him, because he was so quick to strike out, physically or verbally, and assess the actual situation after he did so.
Now, just after he left our mother, to divorce her, he, suddenly, sends each one of us children a personal letter from himself when he almost never got personal with us about anything, and it seemed to be his attempt at trying to sound like he was being the big man* in this big mess, which was not at all accurate, whether in his relationship with our mother, or his relationship with each one of us. Adding insult to injury, with his letter to me, that tried to make him sound like the 'decent' one, in this divorce situation, he, also, explained away his absentee-father relationship with me, despite his being in the very same house with me the whole time I grew up under that roof. Despite, what he wanted that letter to me to accomplish, all it did was alienate me even further from him, if that was even possible to do by this point, because it spoke of things that, he NEVER EVEN ONCE, affirmed, about me, with me, BEFORE or SINCE that ONE LETTER TO ME, regarding developing talents and skills I had, that he'd NEVER ACKNOWLEDGED, as I grew up in his household. He had neglected EVERY opportunity, to encourage my gifts and abilities, as I was finding myself, as a child growing up in that home, and literally his only focus had been on his watching TV shows, nonstop, the entire time, I had lived in, and later, visited, that house. He was always very quick to criticize me harshly, but never to say anything about my accomplishments or achievements. When I sang solos in a church play, and other such moments and milestones, he never said ONE thing, to me. Children NEED that acceptance, attention, and affirmation from their parents! I was MIDDLE-AGED-- 45 years old!-- when my father sent me the letter in 2001.
Here is his letter to me (just exactly as he wrote it):
[It was typed up and printed out, but signed "Dad" in ink, with his phone number]
Hello To Each of You
I am not sure just where or how to begin this letter, but I feel like it's time I at least tried to explain a few things.
Each of you will receive the same letter except for the last paragraph and that will be for you only.
I have been told that I was never there for you children and I guess to a large degree that's true, I always had to work longer an harder that those around me just to stay even with them, but most of all I was a firm believer that what I was doing was right, I was so sure that if I could give you the things that I never had, like a nice house to live in, a nice car that could carry you where you wanted to go or parties for your Birthday and all those Christmas presents at Christmas, it wasn't until I saw you children spending so much time with your children that I then realized that I had missed out on some of the most important things of your lives, Those times cannot be relived and even if they could I often wonder if they would be different, I'm not sure if that what I am saying makes any sense to you but I don't know how to say it any other way, Except that I now know that I put too much emphasis on material thing and not enough on those around me.
I have also been told that I have shut you out of what I am planning or what I have already planed, for that I am truly sorry because I never meant to shut any of you out, it was just that I felt that I was going through something that was going to affect us all and I did not want to try to draw any one into it trying to get them to take sides, I did how ever have to have some one to help me and that one person and only that person was told what my plans were, but I did this only because I needed some one to watch after things while I wasn't there, things like picking up my mail and paying bills at a very small two bed room place that I purchased early this year, I also did not discuss this with any of you because whether you believe me or not I do care for your mother very much and I am not going into any of the reasons why I'm doing what I am doing because it make no different what I say where it true or not that will never change the fact that she is now an always be your mother.
I say to each of you that my home will always be there an open to and for you, I hope that each of you will be a part of my new life, I know that you will see a different person in some ways.
Deb I know that we have not been very close but I really want you to know that I have always told people about how much talent you have and how much I enjoyed those nights in the shop when you would come out and we would sit and talk and you would draw pictures for me to use as patterns, I feel like I did not give you enough encouragement or help in developing your true talents, it just made me angry to see all that talent going to waste.
Love
Dad
[He signed it and added his phone number, in handwritten ink, to the typed page. But then a second page followed that first page with some additional paragraphs.]
I want each of you to know that I to hurt much more than I can ever express in words, but I have many great wonderful memories and they will always be there for me to draw on, to me there are more good fun loving memories than there are bad.
The yesterdays are gone except for the memories, it is now today and tomorrow will be a new day for each of us, I hope I can use the tomorrow's wiser.
Remember that time waits for no one, Treasure every moment you have, and you will treasure it even moe when you can share it with someone special.
There is a cautionary tale, in this man's letter, to his, then, middle-aged children, including that, despite your many regrets, in hindsight, especially, after you were told many times, that you were CHOOSING not to develop the relationships, with your own children, you cannot go back and rewrite history or recast the past in a way that makes you feel better about it, by, now, seeing it as much better than it actually was, or as less hurtful, and harmful, to your offsprings' wellbeing, than it really was. Men, in particular, are all-too-often guilty of failing their kids this way. I'm a senior citizen, now, and I'm still dysfunctional, because of an acute absence of a loving, present, engaged, affirming father in my life. Mine was IN THE HOME!
Because of my not having a good family situation, growing up, for various reasons (not just to do with my father, as has been well covered in my previous blog posts now), I tried live-in nanny employment, a few times, partially because I longed to feel a sense of family in a home environment that would not be dysfunctional, and damaging, to me. I smile as I type this next statement: What I realized, was that, to some extent, every family has their sins, and shortcomings, although, not all of them are severe enough, for the survivors, of such a home life, and upbringing, to need therapy and such, like me and many others have needed, to help us with our woundedness. Even so, some of the situations were far better than my upbringing had been but I found that there are frustrating complications to, living, where you work, and for various reasons those jobs did not last for very long. >sigh!< I, still, long for a sense of what an, accepting, affirming, affectionate, family life would be like, but at this point I cannot imagine my ever having that. I have given up hope. When I moved to Bridgeport, Connecticut, for a live-in nanny job, after I had been a Certified Nursing Assistant in a hospital, a nurse who was a friend of mine wrote me a letter. The only page, I seem to still have, of that letter, is numbered "4", on the front, and ends with her signature at the bottom of what would be page 5, on the back of that. Here is some of what she wrote to me, exactly how she wrote it:
You seem to be healing, (starting to anyway). You left Omaha with a few open wounds. Just give it time, Deb. The [name withheld for privacy reasons] family seems fascinating to me. Lots of $ !! Their condo is gorgeous as are the kids. I felt good about your making plans to see New York. You've got more guts than I would have, even on buses, trains, & cabs. (God forbid I ever take a subway with my claustrophobia! sp?)
I enjoyed your story about the [name withheld] relatives & the lox- I was reading the letter at work by my telephone and laughed out loud. You have a delightful way of putting words on paper! Have you ever thought of working for a newspaper? I just eat up your letters.
About your future- and Omaha- & what tomorrow will bring- I really don't know, Deb. Just take one day at a time & try to make the best of each day. There are reasons for everything that happen to us. (When I see God face to face someday, I've got quite a list of things to discuss with him, as I question why I've been handed some of my "crosses".) I just hope things "fall into place" for you. You've entered into an adventure that has to add something positive into your life- if nothing else, to distract you and help pass the time until you can see your son again. You always sound so pessimistic (sp?) when you write about him. Don't! You will always be his biological mother & there will be a bond between you, even though you are not together. Linnea sounds like a very generous person who would never interfere with your relationship. Circumstances have separated you for now- but it won't be forever!!
I'm going to end this now- keep me in your prayers & I'll do the same for you- Life is so hard-
Love,
Judi
P.S. Sorry it took me so long to answer! I think of you often- write if you get a chance. Once again, I love your interesting letters!
It was, the height of irony, that, soon after, I transferred the custody, of my baby boy to his father and stepmother to raise, so he would have the best possible life that he could, given the situation, I began working as a live-in nanny in someone else's home, caring for and loving their kids. People really don't realize, how hard my life has been, in some ways, and all that I have had to overcome, while going though some extremely painful emotions. Because I choose to be compassionate and gentle with people, normally, unless, they give me reasons not to be, I think that I come across to others, often, as weak, or a pushover, when I am as strong as steel, in SO MANY WAYS, because of, all, that I have been through, in my life!
The landlord of my apartment building, when I was applying to be a live-in nanny, wrote me a letter of reference. I was very touched, by it. It is transcribed, below.
To Whom It May Concern,
Deborah [Last name] is a tenant of mine, . . .
I personally have two little girls. (Ages 2 & 4) Deborah has been to our apartment several times to visit and babysit on occasion. My little girls like her visits because she gives them alot of attention, hugging, holding, playing and coloring with them. Children respond well to people who are very open and honest with them. This is how I would describe Deborah, as a very open and honest person.
Being resident manager, I have had to enter her apartment on different times and have always found Deborah to be a very neat and clean person.
If you are looking for someone to take care of your children, I believe Deborah is well suited for the job.
Sincerely,
Melinda [Last name withheld]
I am a very serious person, but I also have a strong sense of humor! While I was still working in the nursing field on a medical/surgical patient floor at the hospital I wrote out some of my, corny, jokes, for Valentine's Day, and sent them down to the ER department via the pneumatic tube system, to the head ER doctor, Steve, who was my good friend, at the time, and knew me well. It shows, my silly sense of humor, that comes out around people that I feel safe to be myself around, and like. When, I try to be myself with people, and show them this side of me, if they seem judgmental, uptight or humorless I don't feel open to getting to know them better. After all, if people can't accept you, for, who you are, then, why bother, to befriend them? You were created to be, uniquely, yourself. That, is who, we have to be, in this world, to be, authentic; to keep it real, to be genuine, to be honest. Here are two photos, of me (below), from my days working in the nursing field. I was in my mid-20s. We were required to wear a white uniform (including shoes), back then, which was between the era when nurses had to also wear a white cap at all times, and now, when people working in nursing wear scrubs and sneakers. Back then, we had to take the patients' temperatures manually, by shaking down the thermometers to get a more accurate read, and hold their wrist, to take their pulse. It was hands on. The old photos, from 40 years or so ago, aren't real clear. I really enjoyed that career field, which ended for me when all the patient lifting I had to do began to throw my back out, more and more often. That led to dancing. I would not want to be in nursing, anymore, in the times, we live in, now, though. I really respect people who are still willing, to be in that line of work, at this point.
Here are my silly Valentine's Day Single's Ads, hospital style, from the mid-1980s:
LGH Valentine Positions to be filled.
Must make application for your specialty area by Feb. 14th to qualify.
A partial list of openings*:
A heart-throb for Cardiology (No heartbreakers apply, please)
Someone sweet for Dietary
Someone uninhibited for Public Relations
An amiable Escort
A Knockout for Anesthesia
Someone highly skilled as well as efficiently fast for ER
Someone insightful for X-Ray
A clean-cut individual for the Surgery Department, preferably sterile
* Valentine inquiries may be directed to any, available, staff. Happy Valentine's Day!
That is reminiscent of the type of things that 'Hawkeye Pierce', and his sidekicks, would do in the TV show M*A*S*H, which was all about medical personnel being silly at times as a stress reliever, because working in medical settings is stressful.
When I lived in Wilmington, North Carolina for awhile I worked in Medical Records at an Orthopedic clinic. It was a fast-paced, challenging and stressful job because it was a very large practice with multiple doctors. I took it as a temp job, to see if I wanted to settle long-term in the city. I had a very good church there with great people and it was a nice area but when the temp job ended I decided to move on. That was in 2006. The end of the temp assignment coincided with Christmas. The staff gave me a good-bye card. Here are some of the comments, they wrote in it:
Deborah, . . . We will miss your smile and cheery spirit. - Allison; Deborah, I will miss your smiling face! . . . Lauren; Deborah, It has been nice getting to know you. We will miss seeing you around the office! . . . Stacey; . . . It was fantastic getting to joke around & visit w/you . . . . I know there is a fun & interesting career that can't wait to grab you up! Kick it into high gear. - Jennifer; I will miss you, Deborah. . . . Elaine; . . . P.S. Thanks for the beautiful X-mas card in Remembrance of my father. . . . Deborah, I'll miss your positively friendly presence around here. . . . ~ Amanda; . . . I will sure miss all your compliments. You're so kind. - Kimberly
Those co-workers were from, medical records, the business office, surgery scheduling, the front desk, patient check-in/check-out, chart prep, and one was the telephone operator/appointment scheduler there.
A young woman, who was also working there, as a temp, in another department, gave me a Christmas card, that also deeply touched me. Her name was Tiffany. I kept it all these years, to remind me that, one person, including me, and Tiffany, can really make a positive difference in the lives of others. The card has a picture of a Christmas cherub on it, and says, "At Christmas time, kind deeds put the smiles on angels' faces." The print on the inside of the card says, "Hope the spirit of Christmas surrounds you like a warm hug." Then, she wrote, "-I know this is a little late. I wish you the best and take care. The 'take time' card you gave me was great. Take this and get yourself something special. Happy Holidays! Tiffany" I made a note on the outside of the envelope, to remind myself what brought the tears to my eyes, upon receiving this, from her, and I kept the card, for always. I wrote: "Tiffany is a temp in Transcription- a struggling single Mom driving a noisy beat up car with sadness in her eyes and pain deeply etched into her (relatively young woman's) face- yet she gave me a ride to the bank after work in rain in 12-22 traffic . . . She offered that- I didn't ask. Her face, prior to that, had looked struck with amazement, warmth, and a glimmer of some needed kind of hope when I'd simply given her one of boxed (Guidepost Christian) Christmas cards w/her name on it. Her card to me also had a $20.00 BELK gift card in it - a huge and loving sacrifice as I know she struggles hard financially, as I do, and perhaps more so." Looking at that card, from 16 years ago, still, brings tears to my eyes.
My cockatiel, CeeBee, loved the Hershey's Kiss Christmas bells commercial. It has been on TV all these years. I am so grateful that they still have it, for the Season, because, every time, I see and hear it, I speak to CeeBee's spirit, and say, "There is your pretty Christmas bell commercial, CeeBee! I love you always and forever!" My friend, Erik, brought tears to my eyes, several months ago, when I was telling him what that ad meant to CeeBee, and therefore, to me, and he Messaged me a link to it, on Facebook, so that I could, still, access it, if they ever stop showing it, on TV. My eyes often tear up when it comes on. [https://www.google.com/search?q=video+of+the+HErsheys+Kiss+Christmas+beell+commercial&oq=video+of+the+HErsheys+Kiss+Christmas+beell+commercial&aqs=chrome..69i57j33i10i160j33i299j33i22i29i30.10630j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:6ac721b7,vid:4HtSLF4vlrk] CeeBee flew Home to Heaven in July of 2011 just a few months short of his 20th birthday. I saved a newspaper that was on my coffee table when that heartbreak happened, because I scribbled what I was feeling on it at the time. Now, it is a yellowed piece of paper, from the passage of time. The following, is what I wrote, about the death of my bird baby:
"(written on here by me just after CeeBee Marie went to heaven . . . .) Having that sudden, jabbing, take-my-breath-away pain in my stomach, almost like somebody's punched me in the gut, actually leaving a lingering stomach ache, causing me to audibly groan softly and wince. that is PAIN. pain of a hugely impactful loss yet a deep, pure, abiding love. That combination we struggle so with, as humans, of losing yet still having something in our lives & hearts of great value & meaning to us. Then, suddenly, an 'ugly cry' overcomes us. This is Grief. If we didn't CARE , it wouldn't HURT."CeeBee November 1991 - July 2011
CeeBee wearing as much of his popcorn as he ate!
CeeBee, trying to change the TV channel to something more to his liking?
The can of tomato soup stood before me on the nearly empty shelf. I reached for it reluctantly because my kids didn't like tomato soup- unless I fixed cheese sandwiches to go with it. "Lord," I prayed, "You have always taken care of us. We are out of nearly everything except this one can of soup. You know I don't get paid for another week- and the child support check is late. Please show me what to do. I need wisdom."
