Inspirational Thoughts

Saturday, March 15, 2008

The Ugliness of Life (Interrogations)

There are times in ones life when concepts can become confusing. Take for example honesty. As children we are taught to never tell a lie. We all know there are times when we do lie... We "stretch the truth," "tell a white lie," "twist the details," "omit a fact," or just "do what it takes." When I was 15 I filled out a job application to waitress at a restaurant in Prescott Valley, AZ. I really wanted this job... I wanted to earn my own money. When I found out I'd have to be 16 to get the job I was disappointed and asked Mom what to do. She told me to change my birth date to 1963... that would make me 16. Well duh, why didn't I think of that? Oh wait, would that mean my mom had told me to be dishonest? Was I being told to lie? Hmmm.

Fast forward a few months. I got the job and all is going well. I'm liked and actually do pretty good with tips. There were several "regulars" that came in every day. For the most part they were really nice guys who kept an eye on the waitresses... kept us out of trouble if someone was disrespectful toward us. There was one guy who was in his early 20's I'd guess. I can't even remember his name now. He truly was a good guy. He never swore around me, never told an off colored joke, never said crude things in front of the women. He did, however, have an interest in me. I knew that.... and it was flattering. I wasn't allowed to date yet... I wasn't 16 (or was I.. my application said I was). Other than at the restaurant, we never went anywhere together. He never even touched me. Nothing.

When I got off work one evening, Mom and Herb were there to pick me up. It was very quiet on the ride home. I could feel the tension and knew something was about to happen. While they had been waiting for me, they saw me talking to this guy..... well flirting with him. I suppose I was flirting with him. Isn't that what waitresses do? Remember, I thought it was neat that someone actually thought I was attractive. When we got in the house the crap hit the fan. Herb brought a kitchen chair into the living room, put it in the middle of the room, and made me sit down. Then the interrogation began.

Who was this guy? How old was he? How long had I been flirting with him? How many times had we had sex? Where did he live? Where did we go to have sex? Who did I think I was? Why was I doing this to my mom? It went on and on. There came a point when I wasn't answering the questions the way Herb wanted them answered. I was telling the truth. I hadn't gone anywhere with the guy. I hadn't done anything inappropriate with him. I was still a virgin. They didn't believe anything I was saying and Herb become more and more enraged.
The next thing I know, Herb has a knife in his hand and is coming toward me. It looked just like this. At this point Mom actually took action (she had been sitting on the couch doing nothing until now). She yelled at Herb to stop, got up and took the knife from him. I couldn't believe what had just happened. Herb was even more mad now. He cocked back his arm and I could see it coming. I pulled my arms up across my face and tried to double over but he caught me before I could duck out of the way. He gave me an upper cut to the nose. Everything was dark for a bit... then all I could see were stars exploding. I was dizzy and sick to my stomach all at the same time. I don't even remember it hurting as much as being so nauseous. That was the end. I was finally allowed to take my bleeding self to bed. Mom never said anything.

The next morning I had a huge shiner over my left eye. Yep, you're right, I had ran into a door the night before. I wonder how many people believe that lie. Probably not many. It was what it was and no one really seemed to care.

For me the moral of this story was something like this. It's ok to lie when it suits the purpose. Telling the truth will sometimes result in getting the crap beat out of you. And when all is said and done, it's up to you to lie to cover up what really happened.

How messed up is that!!

Friday, March 14, 2008

The Ugliness of Life (Abandonment)

When I was a sophmore in high school I lived in Arizona. We had actually lived there since I was in 6th grade (probably the longest we'd ever stayed in one school district). One day we came home from school and Mom told us we'd be going to Pennsylvania for a visit. To be honest, I'm not sure how much notice she gave us... I do, however, remember being told I was to pack anything I really wanted to take along in a foot locker. Tony and I each had one of our own.

I was pretty excited. We'd traveled many times to PA before, but we'd never been allowed to pack such a large amount. Maybe I should have been questioning what was going on. I didn't. I trusted Mom.

Before we knew it Mom, Tony, and I were on a Greyhound Bus headed across the U.S.

This was actually something we'd done many times before so it wasn't really out of the ordinary. People fly more today, but when I was a kid it was quite normal to travel by bus. It was cool seeing the country and meeting new people. Again, nothing seemed out of place.

When we arrived in PA, we "moved in" with my sister, Teresa. After a few days Mom had us register in school. I think I did question this, knowing I was already a student at a school in AZ.... I was told it was just so we wouldn't fall behind on our studies. I totally believed this.

Everything was going fine for a month. I loved being with my sister. I felt safe. There was so much less drama (because it was just us kids and our mom... no man at the moment... he was in AZ). Teresa and her family were fun to be with. Life seemed to be looking up. Was I in for a shock.

Another day... another trip home from school... another disappointment just ahead. I came through the door and Teresa was there to greet me. We talked for a bit. I can't remember everything except that somehow along the line I was told that Mom had left. When I asked when she'd be back Teresa explained Mom had gone home.... like as... back to AZ. I was stunned! I don't think I believed Teresa at first. I looked for Mom's luggage. It was gone. She really was gone. How could she do it? How could she just leave like that?

Mom just walked away. She left us without looking back. Oh sure Teresa tried to tell us how upset Mom was... that she didn't want to leave that way. Mom was worried her health wasn't strong enough to handle us crying when she left. There was nothing.... no Adios, Farewell, Arrivederci, Auf Widersein, So Long, Good-bye, See Ya, Good Riddance.... nothing! Tony and I both cried that night. I know I cried off and on for days. I was terribly hurt but at the same time completely ticked off at her for being such a coward. I didn't give a rats rear end how worried she was about her health. She was dumping us and running back to a man. She had deliberately chosen a man over her children. Why? We never got the answer, only excuses.

Just another day.... another one of life's hard lessons. Another wound I need to heal.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

The Ugliness of Life (Terror)

As a child our family moved to Utah (after the divorce of my parents). Shortly after arriving there, my mom met a man. Mother never had trouble meeting men. She was physically attractive ... and unfortunately she had a bulls-eye on her back for every loser that was ever born. This man's name was Mack... and he was mean! He liked using people as punching bags. Go Mack! What a guy.

One day my brother and I were walking home from school. We lived in a mobile home park and as you came into it there a a nice clubhouse in the center, a pool and playground directly behind it, and streets to the left and right of it. We lived down the left side. As we were heading around the corner of the building I could hear someone screaming. It was a woman and she was screaming for help at the top of her lungs. Tony and I continued to walk until the woman came into view. It was our mother. She was running in the middle of the street trying to get away from Mack. I could see the rage on his face. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My brain wasn't processing it.

Next thing I know, Mack has caught up to her. She had a rope style necklace on. He caught the necklace and started twisting it from the back... choking her as he pulled her backwards across the street. I could see her hands at her neck trying to loosen it. It was terrible. What should I do? I was 9 years old. I didn't know what to do. I was terrified.

I grabbed my brother and ducked behind some hedges planted against the clubhouse. We crouched down there while I tried to figure out what to do. Should I go into the clubhouse and ask one of the ladies to call the police? No, Mack would kill Mom as soon as the police showed up. Should I ask one of the ladies to walk with us to the house? No, if I did that he'd kill us and then kill Mom. Should I try to find someone from our Ward to help? No... again, all I could see is all of us being murdered. I was running out of time because no matter what it was time for us to be arriving home from school. If we were much later we'd be in big trouble. Much more trouble than we were already in.

This is the insanity running through my 9 year old brain. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!! Finally I stand up and take Tony home.

When we get home, everything is quiet. Mack is sitting at the kitchen table. Mom is standing at the sink. She tells us to go to our rooms... she'll talk to us later. Perhaps an hour later she quietly comes into my room and tells me to quickly pack a few pieces of clothes and personal items in my pillow case. I'm to stay in my room until she tells me to come out.

I didn't know it at the time but she's drugged Mack and is waiting for him to fall asleep. As soon as he does, she sneaks us out the back door and down through the yards of other homes to a friend who will take us to a safe place. We couldn't take our car because Mack has removed something so it won't start. As we were fleeing our home, I was 100% sure Mack was going to wake up and come running after us. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if he was following us.... even in the car as we finally drove away. I knew we were going to die that day.

You know the really sad thing? I was correct to a degree. Part of me did die that day. To this day, in spite of everything else that has happened in my life, that day without question still remains the most terrifying day of my life.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

The Ugliness of Life (Demons)

You all know I've been working on becoming more financially secure. Most of you don't know that I'm also ready to begin working on my physical self.... to make it more secure, too. I came to two stark realizations several months ago. First, I have been a very "slothful servant" over my body. I have not taken care of the "temple" my Heavenly Father blessed me with. Second, I will never be truly successful at becoming physically healthy if I don't confront some of the ugliness of life, particularly my childhood. I MUST release these demons in order to begin to heal and move on. I MUST be completely honest in order for this to work......... so......... here goes!!

I WEIGH 316 POUNDS.

Ok, I've said it out loud to everyone and their brother... although I've never hid the fact if anyone asked. Now what to do? Let's go back a few years (like to life in the womb). Bear with me............
It used to be that a baby was just a blob... something growing but not really there. We now know there's way more going on in the womb than we ever thought possible. Science is proving more and more about our womb experience every day. I firmly believe that we are aware if we are loved and wanted while in the womb. I'm certain we perceive our mother's emotions. I KNOW I was not wanted by my birth mother. I was the youngest of 8 children in my birth family and by womb experience wasn't a good one. Strike one!

Shortly after my birth I was placed in foster care. I have no conscious memory of that period of time. When I was 2 I was moved to what would become my permanent home, even though it started out as an emergency temporary placement. I was eventually adopted. One would think that was the beginning of ... "and they all lived happily ever after," right? Wrong. My parents divorced when I was 8. Strike two!

Our broken family moved to Utah. My mother met a man and eventually they were married. Ok, now things will be better. Wrongo. This man was an alcoholic and physically abusive with everyone except me. For some reason every time he came at me I'd freeze on the spot and scream. It was like he was in a trance because everytime I screamed he'd stop, turn around and walk away. While I was never beat up myself, I witnessed way more than a child should have had to see.
This man eventually died as the result of horrific burn injuries he received. I was 11. Safety on one hand, turmoil on the other. Strike three!

By the time I was 12 my mother had already found another "man." This one would turn out to be a monster in his own "special" way. On a Sunday morning... the last Sunday morning before my thirteenth birthday, this "man" came into my room and molested me. I remember slamming the door as he left, wedging myself against the door and sliding down to the floor. I drew my knees up to my chest and wept. My brother and I were beat up more times than I wish to count. I still have reminders on my body from injuries inflicted by his hand.
For the next several years I went through a very self destructive period of time. I did things to myself that I hope my own daughters never try. I used everything I could think of to numb the pain I was living with. No matter how far down I went I could NEVER completely escape. After seriously hurting myself twice I ended up in a hospital and finally started getting the help I would need to survive the rest of this journey. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to survive, but I wasn't allowed to leave the hospital unless I agreed to intense therapy. Needless to say I'm glad I got the help. I'm still here.

SO... here we are. I'm finally at the point where I'm sick to death of the last form of protection I've built around myself. I'M FED UP WITH MY FAT!!! At the same time I'm terrified to let "it" go. I'm afraid. My fat keeps me safe. I don't have to get too close to people, especially those who don't like fat people. I don't have to worry about being in a relationship with a man... of getting hurt again... or more importantly of bringing a "bad" man into our home who may hurt my daughters. Am I screwed up or what? Ok, I'm going to stop for now. I'm feeling overwhelmed at the moment. That's enough for now.

The Edmund Fitzgerald


The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald
©1976 by Gordon Lightfoot and Moose Music, Ltd.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee."The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead when the skies of November turn gloomy. With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty, that good ship and true was a bone to be chewed when the "Gales of November" came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side coming back from some mill in Wisconsin. As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most with a crew and good captain well seasoned, concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms when they left fully loaded for Cleveland. And later that night when the ship's bell rang, could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound and a wave broke over the railing. And ev'ry man knew, as the captain did too'twas the witch of November come stealin'. The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait when the Gales of November came slashin'. When afternoon came it was freezin' rain in the face of a hurricane west wind. When suppertime came the old cook came on deck sayin'."Fellas, it's too rough t'feed ya."At seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in; he said,"Fellas, it's bin good t'know ya!"The captain wired in he had water comin' in and the good ship and crew was in peril. And later that night when 'is lights went outta sight came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours? The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay if they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er. They might have split up or they might have capsized; they may have broke deep and took water. And all that remains is the faces and the names of the wives and the sons and the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings in the rooms of her ice-water mansion. Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams; the islands and bays are for sportsmen. And farther below Lake Ontario takes in what Lake Erie can send her, and the iron boats go as the mariners all know with the Gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed, in the "Maritime Sailors' Cathedral."The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times for each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald. The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down of the big lake they call "Gitche Gumee." "Superior," they said, "never gives up her dead when the gales of November come early!"

I've always been fascinated by this song. I can remember listening to it as a child and feeling so sorry for the crew and their families. How terrible it must have been for them. As an adult I've studied the events and watched many documentaries on the wreck. As with most, the tragedy didn't have to occur. Human error played a huge role in the fate of the crew. Regardless, it's still fascinating to learn about it.

How amazing just how quickly things can "go south" so to speak. The crew knew they were in trouble, however, even up until a short time before they disappeared it doesn't seem they realized just how bad the situation truly was. They were in communication with ships in the area... no one got to them in time. I'm not certain it would have mattered even if they had.

A silent, watery grave.

Twenty-nine men lost their lives on November 10, 1975. The youngest was 20; the oldest was 63 years old.

The Memorial Site... twenty nine lanterns surround an anchor. Perhaps someday I'll get there to see it with my own eyes.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

My Actresses

As you can tell, it's performance time!! Woo Hoo! That also means we're almost finished with this project. Again, WOO HOO!! The show has been extremely well received. I've heard many positive comments from people coming out of the shows. Both of the girls are actually doing a show right now... and the last one is on Saturday at 2:30. Good Show girls.Emile looking her best with Aunt Cindy.Brie with Crystal and Tony.Emile and Brie with Diane Crews, Artistic Director at DreamWrights.



MY BAD :((

Golly, I can't believe it's been a month since I blogged last. I've been on a few times, I just didn't take the time to put anything on again lately. My Bad!! There's so much to share... here we go.

1. Employment Status: I'm sorry to report that I no longer work at Heritage Senior Center. It's actually with a sad heart that I share this because of the fact I truly started out knowing I could do the job of Program Coordinator, and was enjoying it in the beginning. As time progressed, however, my hands became more and more tied and I wasn't permitted to do the job I was hired to do. We've all encountered what we call a "micro manager" and for the first time in my adult life, I finally met mine. I couldn't do anything without getting permission first. My ideas were met with criticism and more often than not I was told "no." As long as I remained a "yes" person I was fine. When I started trying to stand up for myself, or point out obvious concerns, I was labeled as negative. It was terribly frustrating and counterproductive. I resigned last month, having only lasted 4 months. That's the shortest amount of time I've ever had a position. I did learn some valuable lessons, gained some wonderful friends (my seniors) and have some great memories. I don't regret having taken the position as it was a chance for me to grow and develop some new talents.... even though they were of little use there. Some day they will come in handy again.

2. Emile: I positively LOVE this picture of Em. She (of course) hates it. Even though it looks as if it was taken around Christmas, it wasn't. Due to a winter storm in December, the Holiday Concert had to be postponed until January. It was a great concert and really did put you in the mood for the holidays. Too bad they had already passed. The entire band and choir did a fantastic job and the decorations were festive.Em continues to do well in school and was on the Honor Roll for the first semester of her Freshman year. I'm so pleased with how far she's come this year. She tried out (but didn't make it) for soccer. I believe she would have made the team had she been on top of the required paper work (physical forms). Not making the team was a hard lesson for Emile. She really wanted this and was very disappointed when she talked to the coach. Hard work doesn't just take place on the field, does it?! There's always next year. If she wants it bad enough she'll achieve it then.

Brie: All I can say is...... Brie's been a tad bit "strange" lately. I'm not sure if it's something she ingested or what. I can't quite seem to pin down exactly what's going on in her life.I took her to the doctor but he seems to think it's just a phase she's going through and she'll out grow it soon. I'm not so sure about that.As time passes the symptoms get more disturbing. It's horrifying to witness this metamorphosis.I just know I want my little Brie Brie back.... soon.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA......HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA.....HAHAHAHAHAHH..AHAHAHAHHAHA......HAHAHAHA
Obviously this was all for fun. Brie is doing fine. These are several of the pictures of different hairstyles for various "spirit" days and events at school or out and about.

So all in all, we're just fine. More to come soon.