As I look at my seven year old son, I wonder why was I chosen to be his mother? He's not biologically mine, but he's mine in my heart, and in my mind. I find myself wondering if I've been a good enough parent to him. Has he been hurt the way that I was? What goes on in his little mind? Does he wonder the way I did, what it would be like to live with his birth parents? Of course he does.
I decided when he came into the care of my husband and I at under a year and a half, that he would know about his birth mother, who is my sister (foster sister), from day 1. I believe that truth is extreamly important in every relationship. You can't really have a real relationship, or a healthy one, without truth.
Sometimes when I look at him I strongly dislike that he had to come into our care. Not because I don't love him, not because I would do it any other way if we could. Because his beautiful mother is missing out on his life. She's someone I would die for myself, we never would have decided to raise him if he was someone elses child. Maybe we would have. My husband and I were soo young, only 24, and just married 4 months. But I love her. And because I love her, I loved him. He's a very easy child to love. He's energetic, kind hearted, strong in what he believes, and a real people pleaser, on top of all that, he's got these big gorgeous hazel eyes, adorable little nose, and the perfect eye brows I've ever seen on any male, with a smile that'll melt your heart.
He's the greatest big brother to our other son and daughter. They love him so much, and he them. They look up to him for his knowledge, his advice, and for so much more. When they're apart all they do is talk about each other and say how much they miss their siblings. He has filled our home with completion. They all have in their own little way.
This Christmas I remember 6 years ago, our first Christmas with him. And I thank God for bringing him into our lives. My life was changed in many ways when I became him mommy. My promise to him, is that I will always put his emotional and mental needs ahead of my own. I will guide him the best I can with God's help, and I will always be honest with him.
He's my Phoenix, and I will help him "Rise from the Ashes"
Friday, 21 December 2012
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
Mirror On The Wall....
I find it strange when there comes a point in your life that you look into the mirror and seriously strongly dislike what you see.. For you see all the mistakes you said you'd never make. You have become the person you never were going to become. You've hurt people you never wanted to hurt. And when you look at the reflection you see something ugly, pitiful, hurt, and angry.
How can one person do this to themselves? Or was there some sort of outer influence that helped create this monster?
When I was young, monsters were scary things under the bed, or in the closet... Now it's something so much more real, I see it in the mirror.
How do you defeat this monster? A part of me just wants to give into it.. It's too big to fight.
Then there's a small part of me that thinks I can actually win the fight..I've done it before. But that part of me is so miniscule, that the monsters is voice over powering it...
Only one thing I can do... Win!
How can one person do this to themselves? Or was there some sort of outer influence that helped create this monster?
When I was young, monsters were scary things under the bed, or in the closet... Now it's something so much more real, I see it in the mirror.
How do you defeat this monster? A part of me just wants to give into it.. It's too big to fight.
Then there's a small part of me that thinks I can actually win the fight..I've done it before. But that part of me is so miniscule, that the monsters is voice over powering it...
Only one thing I can do... Win!
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
A brief moment
As I stand beside the bleachers watching a baseball game on a hot summer day in Greenville B.C where my mom was born and grew up I hear her voice. "Ilene" Her voice is soo clear, so strong.. I look to my left past some people I'm standing with and I see her! She's wearing a blue tank top and blue jeans. Her black hair is down and her bangs are curled, some curled up, and some curled down the way she used to always have them..
"Mom!?" I reply as I walk through the small crown of people I'm with, towards her on the dirt road. "Guys! It's my mom! She's alive! I knew it, I knew you were alive still" I say as I'm practically jumping up and down as I get close to her.
"Ilene, I have to talk to you.. I don't have much time" She says with a very serious voice. I finally reach her and we embrace! She's shorter than me. I feel her thick soft hair on my right cheek, I feel her arms around me. It's like I'm hugging myself, a shorter version of myself. "Mommy! I knew you were alive. I missed you soo much!" I tell her as I squeeze her so tight, almost as tight as she's holding me. Then she grabs my shoulders and pushes me about arms length away from her. "Ilene I have to say something".. She says a little more sternly, as she looks directly into my eyes. I can't believe I'm looking into her eyes, I think. I don't speak, i just look at her.
"It's time for you to change, it's time to stop everything you're doing that's holding you back" She says, as she's now holding my face in her hands. "What?" I say.
I can't believe after all these years this is what she's saying to me!? Not I miss you too honey, or I love you... It's time to stop what I'm doing... Seriously what does she know?
"Mom what are you talking about?" I ask her. "Ilene, the drinking, the drugs, and everything on top of that. It's time to stop, it's time to change" She says as she's moving her hands while still holding my face. She pulls me close again and kisses my cheek, and whispers in my ear "I love you, make me proud. I have to go now".
"NO, what!? You can't leave me!" I belt out louder than I mean to. She looks at me again and still in a whisper she says "You can do this, I love you" then she kisses me, lets me go and walks away. "Mommy!"
Suddenly I'm in my room at my birth dad's place, in my bed. It was a dream!! It was all a freakin dream. I start crying, crying so hard that my stomach hurts. I roll over and and go under the covers, close my eyes and beg God to let me fall back asleep to see her again. She's gone. I can't sleep. But I felt her, I heard her voice, I looked into her eyes. I felt her! She came to me. She came to me for the first time since she left, to give me a message.
When I had this dream I was 21 and living a very carefree lifestyle. I didn't care about other people or what they thought of me and the things I was doing to myself and to others. And it must have been pretty serious for my mom to come to me and tell me to straighten myself out. I really believe God sent her to me to give me that message. I don't know how, but it was her. There were many friends and family telling to slow down, to take care of myself. I didn't listen to them, I'd get defensive and angry when they'd try and tell me how to live my life. And After this dream I didn't change right away... It still took a few years, but I did slow down. And I never forgot her words. God knew she was the only one I'd listen to, so he gave me a brief moment with her. A brief moment I'll cherish forever!
"Mom!?" I reply as I walk through the small crown of people I'm with, towards her on the dirt road. "Guys! It's my mom! She's alive! I knew it, I knew you were alive still" I say as I'm practically jumping up and down as I get close to her.
"Ilene, I have to talk to you.. I don't have much time" She says with a very serious voice. I finally reach her and we embrace! She's shorter than me. I feel her thick soft hair on my right cheek, I feel her arms around me. It's like I'm hugging myself, a shorter version of myself. "Mommy! I knew you were alive. I missed you soo much!" I tell her as I squeeze her so tight, almost as tight as she's holding me. Then she grabs my shoulders and pushes me about arms length away from her. "Ilene I have to say something".. She says a little more sternly, as she looks directly into my eyes. I can't believe I'm looking into her eyes, I think. I don't speak, i just look at her.
"It's time for you to change, it's time to stop everything you're doing that's holding you back" She says, as she's now holding my face in her hands. "What?" I say.
I can't believe after all these years this is what she's saying to me!? Not I miss you too honey, or I love you... It's time to stop what I'm doing... Seriously what does she know?
"Mom what are you talking about?" I ask her. "Ilene, the drinking, the drugs, and everything on top of that. It's time to stop, it's time to change" She says as she's moving her hands while still holding my face. She pulls me close again and kisses my cheek, and whispers in my ear "I love you, make me proud. I have to go now".
"NO, what!? You can't leave me!" I belt out louder than I mean to. She looks at me again and still in a whisper she says "You can do this, I love you" then she kisses me, lets me go and walks away. "Mommy!"
Suddenly I'm in my room at my birth dad's place, in my bed. It was a dream!! It was all a freakin dream. I start crying, crying so hard that my stomach hurts. I roll over and and go under the covers, close my eyes and beg God to let me fall back asleep to see her again. She's gone. I can't sleep. But I felt her, I heard her voice, I looked into her eyes. I felt her! She came to me. She came to me for the first time since she left, to give me a message.When I had this dream I was 21 and living a very carefree lifestyle. I didn't care about other people or what they thought of me and the things I was doing to myself and to others. And it must have been pretty serious for my mom to come to me and tell me to straighten myself out. I really believe God sent her to me to give me that message. I don't know how, but it was her. There were many friends and family telling to slow down, to take care of myself. I didn't listen to them, I'd get defensive and angry when they'd try and tell me how to live my life. And After this dream I didn't change right away... It still took a few years, but I did slow down. And I never forgot her words. God knew she was the only one I'd listen to, so he gave me a brief moment with her. A brief moment I'll cherish forever!
Saturday, 3 March 2012
"New home"
It's funny cause it's been so long that I really have no clue where to start... But I feel that it's long past due to get something written.
I think I'll go back to when I became a foster child....
So it was 1988 probably about a month after my mom died. To be honest I don't remember my social workers name so I'll just call her Janet. I'm pretty sure at this point I was an emergency case.. Which means that the CAS (Childrens Aid Society) had to find a home for me right away.
I had been living with my neighbors now for about a month, give or take a few days here and there when my dad was sober enough to be around.
Funny thing is looking back now I can totally see where he was coming from. I can't imagine loosing the most important person in my life, my partner, my best friend. Yeah sure every relationship has it's problems but to loose your partner forever without having a say in it, and knowing you will never see the person ever again... At least not in this lifetime..That has to have a serious impact on someone. I do not blame my dad anymore for the selfish, harsh choices he made after my mom died.. He tried to drown his misery in booze and drugs. I'd probably do the same. The only difference between him and me is that as soon as anyone tried to take my children from me I'd straighten my rear end up and be the person they'd need me to be. That's where he failed.
And because he failed I've had serious trust issues with the men in my life. But just because I was hurt by the first man I ever loved, doesn't mean I should allow that to haunt my relationships with other men, especially the one who want's to love me.
I remember walking into this cold dim town house with Janet.. Greeting us at the door was a tall woman with dark black hair with white streaks through it. She was tall with a warm smile and a pretty soft voice. "Hi Ilene, I'm Jane" she said."Hi" I simply replied. She invited us to take our shoes off and come in. We followed her in through her small old fashion kitchen and into her dinning room. As we sat down I tried to picture myself living here.. It seemed strange living in someone else's home. i remember feeling how uncomfortable the thought of it was. Knowing I wouldn't wake up to my mom or dad, but to wake up to these two old strangers... I couldn't believe it. I tried not to think about how weird I felt inside. She was a nice woman, I liked her right away. Kind of like a grandma. But the house was soo cold, i didn't like that.
As Janet and Jane were talking my mind was clearly else where, I heard a bit of Janet mentioning how close I was with my mother.. And that I missed my dad, but nothing else that they said really popped out.
Then an old man walked in. He had a half a head of white hair. A little tubby on the core area, but he too had a nice soft look to him. "You must be Ilene?" he belted out. "Yes" I awkwardly replied. "Happy to have you dear, I'm Bruce". "Thank you" I said in a quiet voice.
As the adults spoke I totally blocked them out, and looked around drowning myself in my thoughts. Something I'm still good at to this day is blocking out conversation I don't want to hear or be apart of. I literally turn the volume off in my head of what others are saying by making my thoughts louder...
What a funny smell this house had. I still couldn't picture myself living in this house.
"Ilene, would you like to see your room?" Jane asked. "Ok" I replied, really just wanting to get out of this house and go to my own room at my dad's house..
As we walked up the narrow wooden stairs, I got a creepy feeling inside myself. I decided I did not like this home. it was strange, cold, and dark.
We turned at the top of the stairs and walked down a little hall way into a room at the end of it. Jane opened the door into a bright narrow, long room. It was cold as well, hard wood floors, a small twin bed in the left corner beside the window, with a desk to the right of the widow along the wall.
Suddenly I was overwhelmed with fear. This is it I thought... this is my room. I hate it! I want to go home! I want to see my dad! And what'd I say......."Thank you". "Oh Ilene, your welcome, we are so happy to have you live with us" Jane replied.
"Ilene we are going to chat a little more downstairs, would you like to get settled up here in your new room"?" janet asked. "Sure" I said.
They left... I gently closed my "new" door... Walked over to my "new" bed crawled under the covers into the fetal position and cried under my pillow. I pulled it to my face hard and screamed.. I felt pain in my stomach, in my chest. Why do I have to go through this!? I thought. Why am I soo alone!? Why is my mom gone!? Why have I been taken from my dad!? Why is any of this allowed!? I cried like a baby into a pillow pulled tight to my face, so tight that I could barely breath. I was ok with the lack of air I was reviving though..
I jumped out of bed and went to the mirror by my desk and wiped my tears away. My fit was done. Time to move on i told myself as I looked into the mirror. I'm stronger than this, my mommy told me I was!"
"Ilene!" Jane called from downstairs. "Janet is leaving, come say good bye"
I went to the top of the stairs put on a smile and simply said "Bye Janet,have a good day". She replied "Bye Ilene, I'll see you next week sweetheart, I'll take you to visit your dad".
"Ok" I turned and ran back to my "new" room and cried again....
I think I'll go back to when I became a foster child....
So it was 1988 probably about a month after my mom died. To be honest I don't remember my social workers name so I'll just call her Janet. I'm pretty sure at this point I was an emergency case.. Which means that the CAS (Childrens Aid Society) had to find a home for me right away.
I had been living with my neighbors now for about a month, give or take a few days here and there when my dad was sober enough to be around.
Funny thing is looking back now I can totally see where he was coming from. I can't imagine loosing the most important person in my life, my partner, my best friend. Yeah sure every relationship has it's problems but to loose your partner forever without having a say in it, and knowing you will never see the person ever again... At least not in this lifetime..That has to have a serious impact on someone. I do not blame my dad anymore for the selfish, harsh choices he made after my mom died.. He tried to drown his misery in booze and drugs. I'd probably do the same. The only difference between him and me is that as soon as anyone tried to take my children from me I'd straighten my rear end up and be the person they'd need me to be. That's where he failed.
And because he failed I've had serious trust issues with the men in my life. But just because I was hurt by the first man I ever loved, doesn't mean I should allow that to haunt my relationships with other men, especially the one who want's to love me.
I remember walking into this cold dim town house with Janet.. Greeting us at the door was a tall woman with dark black hair with white streaks through it. She was tall with a warm smile and a pretty soft voice. "Hi Ilene, I'm Jane" she said."Hi" I simply replied. She invited us to take our shoes off and come in. We followed her in through her small old fashion kitchen and into her dinning room. As we sat down I tried to picture myself living here.. It seemed strange living in someone else's home. i remember feeling how uncomfortable the thought of it was. Knowing I wouldn't wake up to my mom or dad, but to wake up to these two old strangers... I couldn't believe it. I tried not to think about how weird I felt inside. She was a nice woman, I liked her right away. Kind of like a grandma. But the house was soo cold, i didn't like that.
As Janet and Jane were talking my mind was clearly else where, I heard a bit of Janet mentioning how close I was with my mother.. And that I missed my dad, but nothing else that they said really popped out.
Then an old man walked in. He had a half a head of white hair. A little tubby on the core area, but he too had a nice soft look to him. "You must be Ilene?" he belted out. "Yes" I awkwardly replied. "Happy to have you dear, I'm Bruce". "Thank you" I said in a quiet voice.
As the adults spoke I totally blocked them out, and looked around drowning myself in my thoughts. Something I'm still good at to this day is blocking out conversation I don't want to hear or be apart of. I literally turn the volume off in my head of what others are saying by making my thoughts louder...
What a funny smell this house had. I still couldn't picture myself living in this house.
"Ilene, would you like to see your room?" Jane asked. "Ok" I replied, really just wanting to get out of this house and go to my own room at my dad's house..
As we walked up the narrow wooden stairs, I got a creepy feeling inside myself. I decided I did not like this home. it was strange, cold, and dark.
We turned at the top of the stairs and walked down a little hall way into a room at the end of it. Jane opened the door into a bright narrow, long room. It was cold as well, hard wood floors, a small twin bed in the left corner beside the window, with a desk to the right of the widow along the wall.
Suddenly I was overwhelmed with fear. This is it I thought... this is my room. I hate it! I want to go home! I want to see my dad! And what'd I say......."Thank you". "Oh Ilene, your welcome, we are so happy to have you live with us" Jane replied.
"Ilene we are going to chat a little more downstairs, would you like to get settled up here in your new room"?" janet asked. "Sure" I said.
They left... I gently closed my "new" door... Walked over to my "new" bed crawled under the covers into the fetal position and cried under my pillow. I pulled it to my face hard and screamed.. I felt pain in my stomach, in my chest. Why do I have to go through this!? I thought. Why am I soo alone!? Why is my mom gone!? Why have I been taken from my dad!? Why is any of this allowed!? I cried like a baby into a pillow pulled tight to my face, so tight that I could barely breath. I was ok with the lack of air I was reviving though..
I jumped out of bed and went to the mirror by my desk and wiped my tears away. My fit was done. Time to move on i told myself as I looked into the mirror. I'm stronger than this, my mommy told me I was!"
"Ilene!" Jane called from downstairs. "Janet is leaving, come say good bye"
I went to the top of the stairs put on a smile and simply said "Bye Janet,have a good day". She replied "Bye Ilene, I'll see you next week sweetheart, I'll take you to visit your dad".
"Ok" I turned and ran back to my "new" room and cried again....
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
The Song that reached me
In this memory it's the morning after my 23rd Birthday, about 6 months after Darren and I first got together.
As I walk in to my room I know the feeling that's about to come over me is a rough one.. I just took two sleeping pills to help me come off of the drugs faster, but I find when you come down faster, it hurts more. The music in the living room of our apartment is so loud, but I don't have the energy to tell them to turn it down. I hear the laughter and wonder why they're all still going and I feel like complete garbage.. I took too much.
I lay on the bed in the fetal position preparing for the extreme discomfort to overcome my whole body, and I better get comfortable because I know I will not be able to move in a little while.
As the aches come on and I think "seriously why did I do this again"? I hate this part, it'll take a good hour or so before I can fall asleep, so I have to tough it out. Nope alcohol wasn't enough I had to spice things up and bring drugs into the picture one last time.
After about 20 min or so the aches are running throughout my insides at full force, I turn onto my stomach hoping for some release and of course there's none.. "God forgive me again, please. Help me get through this" Who do I think I am to ask for God's help... I'm a hypocrite, I know what I've done is wrong.. What do my actions say to others who don't believe in God. They know I do, and yet here I am definitely not living a Christian lifestyle.. The thing is, is I don't know how to live like a "Christian" not really. I find Christians judgmental and clicky..
Darren and I have been trying not to party like this anymore, he even said it wasn't a good idea to do it. But noo... it's my Birthday and I wanted to one last time before we drop this lifestyle for good.
He comes into bed and lays beside me and puts his arms around me.. "Darren please don't touch me, it hurts" I say.. "I know" he replies and rolls over. "I'm sorry" I say "I know" He says.
What is wrong with me!? I'm supposed to be the one who trusts and believes in God and here I am doing drugs..
I toss and turn, moaning, and complaining as the drugs slowly leave my system. I finally can stop moving after over an hour, and I know soon sleep is near.
This is it the last time... No turning back from here.
I open my eyes in our dark bedroom, with my head soo heavy that I feel like I can't lift it from the pillow..
And the regret kicks in... I turn over and put my arms around Darren. "I love you, I'm sorry" I whisper in his ear. He lifts his left arm up for me to lay on his chest, "I know babe. it's time to stop this" he replies and kisses my forehead. "I know" I say
As I crawl out of bed I wonder if I'll actually be able to never relive last night scene ever again. At this moment I sure feel like I can live up to that promise..
I put my feet into my pink slip on slippers and walk to the washroom to wash my face with cold water. I have to wake up.. This is a new start.
I grab the phone to call for pizza delivery, considering it's about 4pm they deliver!
I decide a nice hot bath is a great idea, wash last night away.. I soak in the tub thinking about last night events.. At least I wasn't a drunken fool I think. But considering what the drugs did to me. what they always do to me, I clearly need to stop this.
Darren and I were thinking of marriage, children. I can't bring kids into this world. I don't even want to be a smoker, so I'll have to quit that as well if we want kids. Even though I can't imagine life without the partying, I have to give it up to have something better. And Darren is more than ready to move on, so it's me. I have to let this lifestyle go. He did, and he at one point was way worse off than I have ever been. I can do it!
The door rings. Pizza! yes I'm dying of hunger.. I grab my towel and dry off as Darren retrieve's our lupper..
Darren decides to take Chaos (our dog) go out for a walk to the gas station to grab some cigarettes.. I remember sitting at the computer and googling Bible verses.. "I can do all things through God who gives me strength",
"But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength . They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint".. .
I put on some Christian worship music.
And it happens.. I can feel a frog entering my throat.. No I think I'm not going to cry.. Hold it in. Something inside of me says to cry, to let it out.. What do I have to let out I think.. Suddenly a song comes on, one by Ginny Owens. I've heard it before but never really listened to the words. On this day I'm ready to hear them, well maybe not but either way the words are loud and clear. So clear that the tears stream down my face uncontrollably... And I cry, I cry so hard.. Then I pray.
These are the words to the song I heard
All I want to do, is give this life to You
All I want to do, is give this life to You
And let Your will be done, until it's all I want to do.
How does doubt slip in, so silently?
And why does condemnation come so naturally?
Why do I still get the best of me?
Loving so little and living so selfishly?
When all I want to do, is give this life to You.
All I want to do is give this life to You.
All I want to do is give this life to You,
and let Your will be done until it's all I want to do.
What have I been given by Your grace?
Will I come to understand this mystery I embrace?
Make of me a new creation now,
Fill me with all you are and be all I am some how.
Cuz all I want to do is give this life to You.
All I want to do is give this life to You.
All I want to do is give this life to You
And let Your will be done, until it's all I want to do.
Faith so fragile
Reaching for Your hand
All I want to do, is give this life to You.
All I want to do, is give this life to You.
All I want to do, is give this life to You,
and let your will be done, til it's all I want to do.
And let your will be done, til it's all I want to do.
All I want to do, is give this life to You
And let Your will be done, until it's all I want to do.
How does doubt slip in, so silently?
And why does condemnation come so naturally?
Why do I still get the best of me?
Loving so little and living so selfishly?
When all I want to do, is give this life to You.
All I want to do is give this life to You.
All I want to do is give this life to You,
and let Your will be done until it's all I want to do.
What have I been given by Your grace?
Will I come to understand this mystery I embrace?
Make of me a new creation now,
Fill me with all you are and be all I am some how.
Cuz all I want to do is give this life to You.
All I want to do is give this life to You.
All I want to do is give this life to You
And let Your will be done, until it's all I want to do.
Faith so fragile
Reaching for Your hand
All I want to do, is give this life to You.
All I want to do, is give this life to You.
All I want to do, is give this life to You,
and let your will be done, til it's all I want to do.
And let your will be done, til it's all I want to do.
I know from here on in that it's going to be hard, and I might fail. But from this day on I will continually try and figure out what God wants for my life. I'm ready to move one.
Saturday, 28 January 2012
A dream to real to bear
I've believed in God for as long as I can remember, but you can believe in God and not have a relationship with Him. I know, having a relationship with someone, something you can't even see sounds a little absurd.. Really though it's the most amazing relationship you can ever have in your existence. It is for me.
And to be honest right now I'm not as close to God as I have been other times in my life, but that doesn't mean I don't believe in Him and love Him. I do however find it very hard to give my whole life over, and listen to what He wants for my life.
Even that might be hard for some people to understand.. "listen to what He wants for my life", yup God talks to me. Some people will call it your conscience, but when you decide to let Jesus into your life that little voice in your head that tells you right from wrong become louder, deeper. In my heart I know it has to be God, He has made a way to connect with us and that's one of the ways. He will also speak through people, someone will say something to me and say they're not sure why but they have something to tell me.. I believe it's God giving them a message to give to me.
There's a huge spiritual struggle that I've been going through since the first real experience I had with the Holy Spirit. And I strongly believe in the spiritual re helm, where all around us are angels and demons that we don't see with our eyes.. Only after someone becomes a believer in Jesus do their eyes open to this spiritual rehelm.
There have been times in my life where I'm close with God, reading my Bible, praying, doing devotions, active in the Church.. And it's those times that Satan strikes me the hardest. I'm a dreamer, I have very vivid dreams. When I'm not close to God these dreams subside. But when I wake up in the morning wanting to talk to God, listening to worship music, while I dance in the kitchen with real Joy in my heart, it's at these times I have awful dreams... Some would call them nightmares.
I had this one dream where I'm awaken in bed with Darren to my right fast asleep, and I see this entity hovering above him... I was truly terrified. I can't even explain what it looked like, it was barley there, but at the same time I could see it or sense it so clearly. And it wasn't good. Even writing about it I'm getting anxious, knots in my stomach as my heart rate increases a little. Yuck!
I reached to touch this hovering transparent cloud, and my arms froze in mid air.. I couldn't move them and I suddenly felt my hands and arms tingle as if they were sleeping.. You know that strange feeling you get in an arm or leg after it being in a certain position for a while. But this tingling feeling was stronger... It was literally holding my arms and I was trapped. As fear filled my mind I remember thinking that not even God could save me, so why should I even cry out for His help. I do it anyways.. "God help me" I say in a very quiet soft skeptical voice. And not a second later I'm waking up.. The creepy thing about this dream is when i wake up my room is lit exactly the way it was in my dream, dim light of dawn entering through my curtain, everything around me looks as if it did a min ago in my dream. Normally when I dream it's in black and white, or something in my dream is off, not quite normal.. Not this dream. My heart starts pounding again... I'm laying exactly the way I was in my dream, but my arms are under the covers.. "was that a dream I ask myself" It had to be, there's no way I could get my arms under the blankets this fast without noticing.
All I know from this dream is that there is something dark, and very powerful around me, around Darren and I.
I close my eyes and pray.. God keep me close to you, forgive me for doubting you and the power you have over satan... The fear in my heart overwhelms me. Do I really want to fight the devil day in and day out.. When I really think about it I know that God strength in me I can do it. But oh man that fear is breathtaking, and not in a good way. And the spiritual warfare is on! Again I must fight, I may fall, but Thank God He will pick me back up!
And to be honest right now I'm not as close to God as I have been other times in my life, but that doesn't mean I don't believe in Him and love Him. I do however find it very hard to give my whole life over, and listen to what He wants for my life.
Even that might be hard for some people to understand.. "listen to what He wants for my life", yup God talks to me. Some people will call it your conscience, but when you decide to let Jesus into your life that little voice in your head that tells you right from wrong become louder, deeper. In my heart I know it has to be God, He has made a way to connect with us and that's one of the ways. He will also speak through people, someone will say something to me and say they're not sure why but they have something to tell me.. I believe it's God giving them a message to give to me.
There's a huge spiritual struggle that I've been going through since the first real experience I had with the Holy Spirit. And I strongly believe in the spiritual re helm, where all around us are angels and demons that we don't see with our eyes.. Only after someone becomes a believer in Jesus do their eyes open to this spiritual rehelm.
There have been times in my life where I'm close with God, reading my Bible, praying, doing devotions, active in the Church.. And it's those times that Satan strikes me the hardest. I'm a dreamer, I have very vivid dreams. When I'm not close to God these dreams subside. But when I wake up in the morning wanting to talk to God, listening to worship music, while I dance in the kitchen with real Joy in my heart, it's at these times I have awful dreams... Some would call them nightmares.
I had this one dream where I'm awaken in bed with Darren to my right fast asleep, and I see this entity hovering above him... I was truly terrified. I can't even explain what it looked like, it was barley there, but at the same time I could see it or sense it so clearly. And it wasn't good. Even writing about it I'm getting anxious, knots in my stomach as my heart rate increases a little. Yuck!
I reached to touch this hovering transparent cloud, and my arms froze in mid air.. I couldn't move them and I suddenly felt my hands and arms tingle as if they were sleeping.. You know that strange feeling you get in an arm or leg after it being in a certain position for a while. But this tingling feeling was stronger... It was literally holding my arms and I was trapped. As fear filled my mind I remember thinking that not even God could save me, so why should I even cry out for His help. I do it anyways.. "God help me" I say in a very quiet soft skeptical voice. And not a second later I'm waking up.. The creepy thing about this dream is when i wake up my room is lit exactly the way it was in my dream, dim light of dawn entering through my curtain, everything around me looks as if it did a min ago in my dream. Normally when I dream it's in black and white, or something in my dream is off, not quite normal.. Not this dream. My heart starts pounding again... I'm laying exactly the way I was in my dream, but my arms are under the covers.. "was that a dream I ask myself" It had to be, there's no way I could get my arms under the blankets this fast without noticing.
All I know from this dream is that there is something dark, and very powerful around me, around Darren and I.
I close my eyes and pray.. God keep me close to you, forgive me for doubting you and the power you have over satan... The fear in my heart overwhelms me. Do I really want to fight the devil day in and day out.. When I really think about it I know that God strength in me I can do it. But oh man that fear is breathtaking, and not in a good way. And the spiritual warfare is on! Again I must fight, I may fall, but Thank God He will pick me back up!
Thursday, 26 January 2012
The Moment I Met Him I Knew!
I think I'll jump ahead to when I first met my husband, I'll use his real name cause I'm sure I can:-) I was 22 at the time.
I'll have to give you a short update as to where I was in my life.. I was not in a very good place.
I was away from God and the Church, drinking hard, doing drugs, and partying almost everyday of the week, and in and out of unhealthy relationships.. I was not really talking to my adoptive family because of the choices I was making. I knew they'd be disappointed with the way I was living, and I didn't want to hear it. So I stayed away.
I was actually living with my birth dad and had been for about 2 months at this point. He didn't like how I was going out all the time either, but I didn't allow him to give me advice in any way.. I re connected with him about 2 years earlier, but that's another story..
Anyways... I can't remember what day it was, but I do know I was in no mood to go out.. I was probably hung over from the night before. One of my cousins called and asked if I wanted to go dancing. "Sorry Chuck, not really up for it" I replied. "Come on Lena, just for a bit" he said. I thought about it for a min, well I know I'd want him to go out with me if the tables were turned. And I was sure they would be in the near future. "Ok fine, I'll get ready" I said, and hung the phone up.
As I laid there on the soft sunken in beige couch in my birth dad's living room, I looked over him and noticed he was falling asleep in his chair.. I kind of felt my stomach turn knowing he's not going to be happy with what I'm about to tell him. How am I going to tell him again that I've decided to go out. I thought.. I didn't really want him to tell me again how unimpressed he was with the way I was living my life. How I should go back to school and do something with my life. Meh, really he doesn't have a say, no one does. And if they think they do, I'll simply say it's my life, mind yours!
"Dad, I'm going out for a bit" I say loudly while I roll off the couch and pull myself up.. "Ilene, you've go out too much, just stay in and go to bed"..
"I just made plans, I'm going out". I tell him as I walk up the stairs to get ready.. I hear him mumbling to himself.. Oh well, he'll get over it.
Chuck swings by to pick me up.. I hop in the car and light a smoke, and complain about my living arrangements.. "Man I need to get another place soon!" I say..
"Well start looking, you can get a nice place for cheap if it's just for you" he replies
Chuck's a good guy, smart, funny... Why doesn't he have a girl friend yet I think.
We get to Minglewoods and have a few beers before going in, this way we don't have to spend too much money once we're in there.. Frig beers are retardily priced at the bars, for 2 at the bar you can grab 6 from the store..
Chuck and I go in and there it is... The loud music, dim lighting, people all around laughing, playing pool, doing shots, and overall having a blast. The only thing was we didn't know any of them. It's always more fun when you walk in and there's a group of people you know, so you can join in on their fun.
We decide to play some pool after grabbing a beer at the bar. Well that ends fast.. Chucks a much better player than me, I'm not awful but yeah he's better.. So we decided after a couple games and a few more drinks to hear upstairs to the dance floor, i figure I have the "liquid courage" to dance a bit.
We get upstairs and there's a few people we know. We don't have the same friends, so he chats it up with his, and I catch up with some old acquaintances from high school..
Then we head out on the dance floor, we keep our space so that others know we're Not a couple.. Clearly the alcohol has entered my blood stream.. I've had shots, drinks, beers.. Probably more than I should have. And I'm definitely dancing too close to the speakers, but I like that I can actually feel the vibration of the base in my body, probably not good for my ears..
As I turn around I see him... By far the best looking guy I've ever laid eyes on.. And OH MY GOODNESS this guy can dance! He sees me and comes towards me.. "what is he doing" I think.. Oh man, way to hot for me to talk to. Suddenly he's on front of me dancing with me. Just like that..?? He didn't even tell me his name, didn't even say hi for that matter. Meh, I'm ok with that I'd probably just stumble over my words.. I tend to do that when I get awkward.
He pulls me close and asks, "Is he your boyfriend?" "Oh No!" I say "My cousin"..
Crap I think... I kind of do have a boyfriend. Cody... Well he's not a boyfriend, but we're trying it out.. Cody and I had a history. Both very attracted to each other but never really dated. And when I came back to Ottawa we decided that we'd try seeing each other a bit.. I never understood the difference of "seeing someone" to being "boyfriend and girlfriend".. But we had both said we were not boyfriend and girlfriend..
I decide this cute guy should know.. "I'm kind of seeing someone" I tell him. "Oh yeah, is he here?" he asks. No, we actually haven't talked much lately" I say. For some reason I couldn't get a hold of Cody, it's not like I didn't try. I figured he had maybe changed his mind about us, but I wasn't sure so I should let this gorgeous guy know that there was kind of a guy in my life.
We dance together all night on and off.. "I need a smoke, want to come?" I ask him "Sure, I quit a while ago but I'll have one or two with drinks" He responds. Fair enough, as long as he comes out with me I think.
So Chuck, him and I go out for a cigarette.
We introduce each other, Chuck and him shake hands.. He say's he's here with some friends, but doesn't know where they took off to.
Looking at him in more light I can't get over how good looking he is.. He's wearing a striped shirt with white, orange, and yellow.. He has longer light brown hair and blonde highlights.. Kind of the Justin Bieber cut, but his hair's thicker with a wave in it that later I find out he hates! I love it..
And his beautiful bright blue eyes, and perfect teeth that shine when he smiles as you see the adorable dimples in his cheeks. Wow, really by far the best looking man I've ever seen. Besides Brad Pitt of course! Saying that he could be a brother or cousin of Brad Pitt he's that attractive.
We go back inside for some more dancing, geezz this man can move. So confident and smooth. And that cute smile that comes on his face while dancing is freakin adorable.
Finally the last few songs come on, you know this because they're usually slow songs. We come closer together and dance. I feel like I'm in the movies, as he holds me close cheek to cheek I can't help think I do not want this night to end. His muscular arms around me, I can't help think I'm the luckiest girl in this place.
The song ends, I ask him to come out for another smoke before we have to part ways.. He comes.
His friends come out and say they're heading back to one of their places for some more drinks, he invites Chuck and I.
"Yes!" I reply almost before his invite is out of his mouth. Oopps.. I look at Chuck "Do you want to come, is that ok" I ask "Sure, kind of tired but I'll go for a bit" he says. Looking back he probably just came to make sure I wasn't going with some crazy guys.
We get to the hot guys friends place somewhere downtown, it's a really nice place. You can actually walk out onto the roof and he had a patio set up, with flowers and plants all around..
Then things get a little foggy... More shots, some drugs.. When all the substances have been entered into our bodies and there's nothing left, the hot guy says he has more at his place.. So we go there.
I wake up in the morning at his place... Oh my goodness "where am I, who am I with, where's Chuck" I think.. We wake up and all I can think is what is his name!? He's still soo nice, he makes breakfast for me, we talk about how we both were retarded the night before.. It's funny cause he says that he's ready to change his life, I tell him me too! He's in College, and works at the Scotia Bank Place where the Ottawa Senators play, he runs the kitchen for the suites..
What is his name!!??
One of his friends Steve comes over to smoke him on a joint.. Yes Finally I'll know his name, Steve has to say it at some point..
And he does! Literally right when he walks in he says it..
"Darren! How was your night!?"
Darren!!! His name is Darren....
I'll have to give you a short update as to where I was in my life.. I was not in a very good place.
I was away from God and the Church, drinking hard, doing drugs, and partying almost everyday of the week, and in and out of unhealthy relationships.. I was not really talking to my adoptive family because of the choices I was making. I knew they'd be disappointed with the way I was living, and I didn't want to hear it. So I stayed away.
I was actually living with my birth dad and had been for about 2 months at this point. He didn't like how I was going out all the time either, but I didn't allow him to give me advice in any way.. I re connected with him about 2 years earlier, but that's another story..
Anyways... I can't remember what day it was, but I do know I was in no mood to go out.. I was probably hung over from the night before. One of my cousins called and asked if I wanted to go dancing. "Sorry Chuck, not really up for it" I replied. "Come on Lena, just for a bit" he said. I thought about it for a min, well I know I'd want him to go out with me if the tables were turned. And I was sure they would be in the near future. "Ok fine, I'll get ready" I said, and hung the phone up.
As I laid there on the soft sunken in beige couch in my birth dad's living room, I looked over him and noticed he was falling asleep in his chair.. I kind of felt my stomach turn knowing he's not going to be happy with what I'm about to tell him. How am I going to tell him again that I've decided to go out. I thought.. I didn't really want him to tell me again how unimpressed he was with the way I was living my life. How I should go back to school and do something with my life. Meh, really he doesn't have a say, no one does. And if they think they do, I'll simply say it's my life, mind yours!
"Dad, I'm going out for a bit" I say loudly while I roll off the couch and pull myself up.. "Ilene, you've go out too much, just stay in and go to bed"..
"I just made plans, I'm going out". I tell him as I walk up the stairs to get ready.. I hear him mumbling to himself.. Oh well, he'll get over it.
Chuck swings by to pick me up.. I hop in the car and light a smoke, and complain about my living arrangements.. "Man I need to get another place soon!" I say..
"Well start looking, you can get a nice place for cheap if it's just for you" he replies
Chuck's a good guy, smart, funny... Why doesn't he have a girl friend yet I think.
We get to Minglewoods and have a few beers before going in, this way we don't have to spend too much money once we're in there.. Frig beers are retardily priced at the bars, for 2 at the bar you can grab 6 from the store..
Chuck and I go in and there it is... The loud music, dim lighting, people all around laughing, playing pool, doing shots, and overall having a blast. The only thing was we didn't know any of them. It's always more fun when you walk in and there's a group of people you know, so you can join in on their fun.
We decide to play some pool after grabbing a beer at the bar. Well that ends fast.. Chucks a much better player than me, I'm not awful but yeah he's better.. So we decided after a couple games and a few more drinks to hear upstairs to the dance floor, i figure I have the "liquid courage" to dance a bit.
We get upstairs and there's a few people we know. We don't have the same friends, so he chats it up with his, and I catch up with some old acquaintances from high school..
Then we head out on the dance floor, we keep our space so that others know we're Not a couple.. Clearly the alcohol has entered my blood stream.. I've had shots, drinks, beers.. Probably more than I should have. And I'm definitely dancing too close to the speakers, but I like that I can actually feel the vibration of the base in my body, probably not good for my ears..
As I turn around I see him... By far the best looking guy I've ever laid eyes on.. And OH MY GOODNESS this guy can dance! He sees me and comes towards me.. "what is he doing" I think.. Oh man, way to hot for me to talk to. Suddenly he's on front of me dancing with me. Just like that..?? He didn't even tell me his name, didn't even say hi for that matter. Meh, I'm ok with that I'd probably just stumble over my words.. I tend to do that when I get awkward.
He pulls me close and asks, "Is he your boyfriend?" "Oh No!" I say "My cousin"..
Crap I think... I kind of do have a boyfriend. Cody... Well he's not a boyfriend, but we're trying it out.. Cody and I had a history. Both very attracted to each other but never really dated. And when I came back to Ottawa we decided that we'd try seeing each other a bit.. I never understood the difference of "seeing someone" to being "boyfriend and girlfriend".. But we had both said we were not boyfriend and girlfriend..
I decide this cute guy should know.. "I'm kind of seeing someone" I tell him. "Oh yeah, is he here?" he asks. No, we actually haven't talked much lately" I say. For some reason I couldn't get a hold of Cody, it's not like I didn't try. I figured he had maybe changed his mind about us, but I wasn't sure so I should let this gorgeous guy know that there was kind of a guy in my life.
We dance together all night on and off.. "I need a smoke, want to come?" I ask him "Sure, I quit a while ago but I'll have one or two with drinks" He responds. Fair enough, as long as he comes out with me I think.
So Chuck, him and I go out for a cigarette.
We introduce each other, Chuck and him shake hands.. He say's he's here with some friends, but doesn't know where they took off to.
Looking at him in more light I can't get over how good looking he is.. He's wearing a striped shirt with white, orange, and yellow.. He has longer light brown hair and blonde highlights.. Kind of the Justin Bieber cut, but his hair's thicker with a wave in it that later I find out he hates! I love it..
And his beautiful bright blue eyes, and perfect teeth that shine when he smiles as you see the adorable dimples in his cheeks. Wow, really by far the best looking man I've ever seen. Besides Brad Pitt of course! Saying that he could be a brother or cousin of Brad Pitt he's that attractive.
We go back inside for some more dancing, geezz this man can move. So confident and smooth. And that cute smile that comes on his face while dancing is freakin adorable.
Finally the last few songs come on, you know this because they're usually slow songs. We come closer together and dance. I feel like I'm in the movies, as he holds me close cheek to cheek I can't help think I do not want this night to end. His muscular arms around me, I can't help think I'm the luckiest girl in this place.
The song ends, I ask him to come out for another smoke before we have to part ways.. He comes.
His friends come out and say they're heading back to one of their places for some more drinks, he invites Chuck and I.
"Yes!" I reply almost before his invite is out of his mouth. Oopps.. I look at Chuck "Do you want to come, is that ok" I ask "Sure, kind of tired but I'll go for a bit" he says. Looking back he probably just came to make sure I wasn't going with some crazy guys.
We get to the hot guys friends place somewhere downtown, it's a really nice place. You can actually walk out onto the roof and he had a patio set up, with flowers and plants all around..
Then things get a little foggy... More shots, some drugs.. When all the substances have been entered into our bodies and there's nothing left, the hot guy says he has more at his place.. So we go there.
I wake up in the morning at his place... Oh my goodness "where am I, who am I with, where's Chuck" I think.. We wake up and all I can think is what is his name!? He's still soo nice, he makes breakfast for me, we talk about how we both were retarded the night before.. It's funny cause he says that he's ready to change his life, I tell him me too! He's in College, and works at the Scotia Bank Place where the Ottawa Senators play, he runs the kitchen for the suites..
What is his name!!??
One of his friends Steve comes over to smoke him on a joint.. Yes Finally I'll know his name, Steve has to say it at some point..
And he does! Literally right when he walks in he says it..
"Darren! How was your night!?"
Darren!!! His name is Darren....
Tuesday, 24 January 2012
A different Life
So I lived through being torn apart from both my parents at a very young age.. Honestly I don't remember when I cried about it. I remember nightmares, I remember times where I'd even faint.. Yup, I'd just get light headed and pass out. Maybe it was the shock of all the changes going on in my life. All the questions people asked. Social workers, teachers, therapists.. Wow there were lots of people with so many questions. Sometimes I remember making things up just cause I had so much attention, and figured I should give them something to work with. And their reactions just made me exaggerated the stories that much more. They had no clue when I was lying or honest. I didn't really like them, they asked too many questions.
After I was adopted by a huge amazing family, I remember my new mom getting ready at night, the only reason I remember this is because I'd wake up in the middle of a nightmare. She would come into my room and hold me in her arms and sing. She would sing about angles watching over me, and I'd feel safe enough to go back to bed. I was 7, but still hurting over the loss of my parents.
When I found out that my last name would change in the adoption, I wanted a new first name. How cool is that!? A 7 year old girl get's to pick a new name! I thought it was great. I thought of Melanie, Jessica, maybe a couple more than that. I guess that was a little much for my new mom to accept, a totally new name she wasn't so keen on. One day she asked what I thought of Lena. I loved it, I had a camp counselor the summer before with the same name! And she was the greatest... We called her bubbles at camp. I don't even know how her real name was Lena, but I thought it was so much better than Ilene. Only cause I was made fun of for being a foster kid while in school, then of course the kids found anything to make fun of once they knew that. So they chose to make fun of my name "Hey Ilene! I lean more than you do! Ilene Moore"... Wow I hated them, and suddenly I didn't like Ilene Moore any more either..
So yes please, Lena Goddard it is!
It's funny at 7 I knew this was the family I belonged to. How would a 7 year old know that? I really knew this was where I belonged. To be honest I forgot that as I grew up more, and I might even still forget it to this day. But when I look deep in my heart I know this was the family that God planned for me to be raised in all along.
It was God who held me through the hardest moments of my life. And even if I turn my back on Him (which I tend to do more often than I wish to admit) He still is there reaching His hand for me to hold when I'm ready.
In my next posts I'll probably be all over the place in my struggles with temptation, with my emotions, awful habits I picked up, and spiritual warfare.. From here there won't really be an order to my story. I'll share what is on my mind that day. Here may be the part that you'll have to leave judgment at the door, and I'm not really sure how much details of my story I can give. For whatever reason I have wanted to write them down for a while now. So I'm just going to do what I can, I'll write what I feel I'm supposed to write.
After I was adopted by a huge amazing family, I remember my new mom getting ready at night, the only reason I remember this is because I'd wake up in the middle of a nightmare. She would come into my room and hold me in her arms and sing. She would sing about angles watching over me, and I'd feel safe enough to go back to bed. I was 7, but still hurting over the loss of my parents.
When I found out that my last name would change in the adoption, I wanted a new first name. How cool is that!? A 7 year old girl get's to pick a new name! I thought it was great. I thought of Melanie, Jessica, maybe a couple more than that. I guess that was a little much for my new mom to accept, a totally new name she wasn't so keen on. One day she asked what I thought of Lena. I loved it, I had a camp counselor the summer before with the same name! And she was the greatest... We called her bubbles at camp. I don't even know how her real name was Lena, but I thought it was so much better than Ilene. Only cause I was made fun of for being a foster kid while in school, then of course the kids found anything to make fun of once they knew that. So they chose to make fun of my name "Hey Ilene! I lean more than you do! Ilene Moore"... Wow I hated them, and suddenly I didn't like Ilene Moore any more either..
So yes please, Lena Goddard it is!
It's funny at 7 I knew this was the family I belonged to. How would a 7 year old know that? I really knew this was where I belonged. To be honest I forgot that as I grew up more, and I might even still forget it to this day. But when I look deep in my heart I know this was the family that God planned for me to be raised in all along.
It was God who held me through the hardest moments of my life. And even if I turn my back on Him (which I tend to do more often than I wish to admit) He still is there reaching His hand for me to hold when I'm ready.
In my next posts I'll probably be all over the place in my struggles with temptation, with my emotions, awful habits I picked up, and spiritual warfare.. From here there won't really be an order to my story. I'll share what is on my mind that day. Here may be the part that you'll have to leave judgment at the door, and I'm not really sure how much details of my story I can give. For whatever reason I have wanted to write them down for a while now. So I'm just going to do what I can, I'll write what I feel I'm supposed to write.
One more Goodbye
I've realized recently that I have a hurt that I've hidden deep down. It only comes up towards the people I love the most in in my life. Usually more towards the men I've loved. It doesn't come out as if I'm sad...
It comes out like a storm, like a tornado ready to destroy anything in it's path. You know when you see before and after pictures of a beautiful city that's been destroyed by a massive natural disaster.... I swear that what I do in the lives of those I love, to the relationship between us. The more I love you and you love me the more I'm going to hurt you. I'll push and push without thinking of the consequences.. I recently noticed that this hurt, and anger comes from feeling abandoned.
The one person I needed in this world the first man I've ever loved, wasn't able to be there for me when the most important woman in my life was taken from me, taken from us.
My dad obviously took my mom's death hard, who wouldn't if they lost the love of their life. That's who she was to him, that's who he was to her. It wasn't the easiest relationship, but really who's is?
My dad went on a binge.. He always left me with my best friends family across the street, but really it was him that I needed.
Unfortunately his pain was too much for him to bare, he didn't know he was strong enough to get through it without a drink, or whatever else he took to forget his pain.
I remember my friends mother say that if my dad didn't come back that she'd call the Children's Aid Society so I could stay with a family until he could care for me..
I didn't really understand, but I knew that I didn't want to live with strangers. I wanted to stay with them, or be with my dad.
Sometime after that, a woman came to pick me up, she was really nice. She said that my daddy wasn't feeling well and that right now he couldn't take care of me. She told me that I would live with a really nice older couple until things were better at home. Little did I know things would never be better at home, and I would never go back to the place I lived with my parents.
The couple I lived with were in their early 60's, they were amazing to me. I had a nice room, though I remember it was cold in their house. All wood floors, we had had carpet in our place, so this was strange to me.. My bed was small, just a little twin, at our place I had a double.. My new room had light curtains it wasn't dark in my room at all, I didn't like that.
Oh well I thought this was only going to be temporary, I would go home as soon as my daddy felt better..
It took a little while before I finally got to see my dad. I remember my foster parents brought me to a huge building.. A lady met us and introduced herself to me, and said she'd take me to the room I'd get to see my dad in. I went with her while my foster parents went out for lunch, they'd be back they told me.. I didn't really care right now, I just wanted to see my dad. They could leave forever for all I cared, they were nice, but not my family.
I waited in this room with my new social worker(I'll call her Janet).. They had just about every toy I could imagine, along with crafts, coloring books, and sketch pads.
I remember a huge mirror on the one wall, the biggest I had ever seen. As I played with some dolls I had found, Janet was watching me and talking with me as my dad came into the room. I dropped the doll and didn't let Janet finish whatever it was she was saying as I jumped up and ran into my dad's arms crying and telling him I had missed him. He was crying too. "Are you ok Ilene?' he asked "Yes daddy, are you feeling better? When can I come home?" He replied "I'm trying to get better, it won't be too long"..
He asks me if I notice anything new on him that he's wearing.. Nope.. He's just wearing his regular white t shirt and light blue jeans.
Then he takes off a gold necklace, and put's it on me. I never had a necklace before. He told me it was his but I had to take care of it until we were together again.
I don't remember the rest of the visit. But I remember being happy to be with him.
I visited him a few times a week for a few months.. But I soon stopped asking when we'd be together again, the answer was never what I wanted.
I found out that my dad wasn't going to get better. Janet said he wasn't going to die, but he was not able to care for me anymore. So I had one last visit with him. At this point our visits were only once a week now. I had settled into my foster home, and I was used to living where I was. I didn't really realize at the age of 5 1/2 what not seeing my dad anymore really meant, or how that would impact me later on.
We went to McDonalds, my dad had a new car. He sure looked good to me. His bright blue eyes lit up every time he saw me, he had a great smile that took over his whole face. I'd say he was a medium build, and tall, strong. He had soft brown with silver highlights throughout his very full head of hair. Always in jeans and a t shirt, but he was so hansom.
I remember him telling me he loved me, and that "they" couldn't keep us apart forever. I remember him saying that we would be together again, he'd find me.
Then I remember saying good bye, he held me hard . I looked him in his eyes and said I loved him, as i watched a tear fall down his nose I started to cry. Maybe I realized this really was good bye.
Then I remember looking out the back of Janet's car as I waved at my dad standing at the traffic lights outside of the McDonalds. I cried, and I looked out that window until I couldn't see him anymore..
That was the last time I'd see him for 15 years.
It comes out like a storm, like a tornado ready to destroy anything in it's path. You know when you see before and after pictures of a beautiful city that's been destroyed by a massive natural disaster.... I swear that what I do in the lives of those I love, to the relationship between us. The more I love you and you love me the more I'm going to hurt you. I'll push and push without thinking of the consequences.. I recently noticed that this hurt, and anger comes from feeling abandoned.
The one person I needed in this world the first man I've ever loved, wasn't able to be there for me when the most important woman in my life was taken from me, taken from us.
My dad obviously took my mom's death hard, who wouldn't if they lost the love of their life. That's who she was to him, that's who he was to her. It wasn't the easiest relationship, but really who's is?
My dad went on a binge.. He always left me with my best friends family across the street, but really it was him that I needed.
Unfortunately his pain was too much for him to bare, he didn't know he was strong enough to get through it without a drink, or whatever else he took to forget his pain.
I remember my friends mother say that if my dad didn't come back that she'd call the Children's Aid Society so I could stay with a family until he could care for me..
I didn't really understand, but I knew that I didn't want to live with strangers. I wanted to stay with them, or be with my dad.
Sometime after that, a woman came to pick me up, she was really nice. She said that my daddy wasn't feeling well and that right now he couldn't take care of me. She told me that I would live with a really nice older couple until things were better at home. Little did I know things would never be better at home, and I would never go back to the place I lived with my parents.
The couple I lived with were in their early 60's, they were amazing to me. I had a nice room, though I remember it was cold in their house. All wood floors, we had had carpet in our place, so this was strange to me.. My bed was small, just a little twin, at our place I had a double.. My new room had light curtains it wasn't dark in my room at all, I didn't like that.
Oh well I thought this was only going to be temporary, I would go home as soon as my daddy felt better..
It took a little while before I finally got to see my dad. I remember my foster parents brought me to a huge building.. A lady met us and introduced herself to me, and said she'd take me to the room I'd get to see my dad in. I went with her while my foster parents went out for lunch, they'd be back they told me.. I didn't really care right now, I just wanted to see my dad. They could leave forever for all I cared, they were nice, but not my family.
I waited in this room with my new social worker(I'll call her Janet).. They had just about every toy I could imagine, along with crafts, coloring books, and sketch pads.
I remember a huge mirror on the one wall, the biggest I had ever seen. As I played with some dolls I had found, Janet was watching me and talking with me as my dad came into the room. I dropped the doll and didn't let Janet finish whatever it was she was saying as I jumped up and ran into my dad's arms crying and telling him I had missed him. He was crying too. "Are you ok Ilene?' he asked "Yes daddy, are you feeling better? When can I come home?" He replied "I'm trying to get better, it won't be too long"..
He asks me if I notice anything new on him that he's wearing.. Nope.. He's just wearing his regular white t shirt and light blue jeans.
Then he takes off a gold necklace, and put's it on me. I never had a necklace before. He told me it was his but I had to take care of it until we were together again.
I don't remember the rest of the visit. But I remember being happy to be with him.
I visited him a few times a week for a few months.. But I soon stopped asking when we'd be together again, the answer was never what I wanted.
I found out that my dad wasn't going to get better. Janet said he wasn't going to die, but he was not able to care for me anymore. So I had one last visit with him. At this point our visits were only once a week now. I had settled into my foster home, and I was used to living where I was. I didn't really realize at the age of 5 1/2 what not seeing my dad anymore really meant, or how that would impact me later on.
We went to McDonalds, my dad had a new car. He sure looked good to me. His bright blue eyes lit up every time he saw me, he had a great smile that took over his whole face. I'd say he was a medium build, and tall, strong. He had soft brown with silver highlights throughout his very full head of hair. Always in jeans and a t shirt, but he was so hansom.
I remember him telling me he loved me, and that "they" couldn't keep us apart forever. I remember him saying that we would be together again, he'd find me.
Then I remember saying good bye, he held me hard . I looked him in his eyes and said I loved him, as i watched a tear fall down his nose I started to cry. Maybe I realized this really was good bye.
Then I remember looking out the back of Janet's car as I waved at my dad standing at the traffic lights outside of the McDonalds. I cried, and I looked out that window until I couldn't see him anymore..
Monday, 23 January 2012
Gone just like that...
It's funny how sometimes my thoughts and the words just come so naturally..
Well I think I'll bring you back to my last memory of my mom, it was probably early February seeing as she passed away on the 4th..I have no clue what day of the week it was, or if it was a weekend or week day.
I remember getting up and my mom was still sleeping, and my dad was already gone for work. I did think it was strange that she wasn't up yet, since she was always awake ready for me in the kitchen, or calling me to get out of bed.
Oh well I figured she was tired and I could make my own cereal.. I decided on Shreddies, oh wow I love my Shreddies, add a little brown sugar on there and it's the perfect breakfast!
As I'm eating my cereal I remember hearing my mom get up, she didn't call my name or anything. Just went straight to the washroom.
Then I hear it, vomiting, crying... She's sick! Oh no, all i think is Daddy isn't hear to take care of her.
I can do it I tell myself. How hard can it be? All she'll be doing is staying in bed.
I remember getting her some orange juice, I had no clue why but for some reason when you're sick you drink orange juice. See I can do this! Not so hard, Oh and a pot! This way she can stay in bed and not have to keep running to the washroom.
As I start walking up the stairs I can hear her more clearly, as she was weeping in discomfort mumbling how awful she feels.. I know I've heard these words before, but I don't remember her actually physically being sick. I just remember the weeping and mumbling while ill in bed..
I put the orange juice on her side table, and the pot on the floor beside her side of the bed.
"What are you doing Ilene" I turn and see her at the doorway as she hunched over leaning in her dresser. She doesn't look well. Large dark wrings under her eyes, and her beautiful tanned skin looking sallow, my heart hurts... I'm suddenly a little scared.
"Mommy, are you ok?" I ask in a very shaky small voice. As her posture gets taller, she puts on a smile, clearl seeing the fear in my eyes she replies.. "I'm ok hunny, I'm sick but I'm ok."
"I got you some orange juice, and a pot so you don't have to go to the washroom." She walks over and pats my head before slowly climbing back into bed. "Thank you" she simply says and closes her eyes.
At this point I'm really not sure what happened next. Strange... Such an important part of my life and there's missing pieces..
The next thing I remember is my dad being home watching t.v on the couch and she's still in bed ill as can be. I remember thinking that it's bad, I remember being scared.
As I stand beside her bed talking to her, she asks me to ask my dad to get her some ginger ale.. I run out of the room towards the stairs and yell down "Daddy!! can you get Mommy some ginger ale?" No response.. I yell again "Daddy!" Nothing. "Ilene, walk down and ask him" My mom say's from the bedroom.
So I do. He's sleeping on the couch. "Daddy" I pat his shoulder "Daddy, mommy need some ginger ale" I say..
"WHAT!" he yells barley saying the word clear enough for me to understand. "Mommy needs some ginger ale" I repeat.
"Then go get it" he says.. Ok, I think how the heck am I going to open a bottle of pop!? I seriously have never done this before.
I go to the fridge and open the door hoping I can do this. If I can't I just know my dad is not going to be happy.. Nothing like waking up a grumpy parent who doesn't want to be woken..
As I pull this big bottle out of the fridge the door bangs me and of course... The bottle drops. I freeze thinking my dad is about to give me an ear full.. I wait, he doesn't say anything. Phew.. I pick it back up and notice foam at the top.. meh not sure what that's all about.
I open the bottle and the foam that was on the top blows out like a volcano, spraying me in the face and the entire little u shaped kitchen.. I scream! I had no idea that this would happen, and how did soo much foam come out of the top of this bottle!?
"Ilene, wtf is going on in there!?" My dad yells, as I can hear him getting up from the couch in the living room.. "I don't know, daddy the bottle made a mess"
"WTF, are you doing" he belches as he comes into the kitchen. "You said I could get mommy some ginger ale" I reply.. As that freakin frog comes back into my throat and tears appear into my eyes.
"What are you talking about Ilene, I never said you could pour pop!" I just shake my head yes but the words don't come out.. He grabs the bottle from my hands and grabs a cup from the cupboard slamming it down he pours some ginger ale for my mom.
"Do you think you can bring this to her Ilene, or should I bring it" he asks. "I can", I say just wanted to run upstairs to be with her.
I bring my mom's drink up to her, she takes a sip.. Weakly she asks what happened. "I just made a big mess mommy, I'm sorry". As I climb into bed with her she puts her arms around me and whispers in my ear "it's ok baby, thank you for my drink."
Again I forget what happened right after this..
The next thing I remember is a lot of commotion going on upstairs.. My dad yells out to me "Ilene call 911, tell them your mom is very sick".
I grab a chair from the dinning table and push it to the wall that separates the Kitchen from the Dinning area. I pick up the the old beige rotary phone hanging on the wall and dial 911, strange to some people, but I know what to expect on the other line. I've called a few times before when my parents had been fighting.. Only when my mom said to call would I call.
I don't remember the conversation with the operator. I don't remember my mom coming downstairs. I don't even remember saying bye to her. I don't remember kissing her goodbye, or what she said to me before leaving, if she was even able to say anything to me.
I remember crying and looking out the screen door, and seeing the paramedic's push her into the back of the ambulance as she laid out on the stretcher. I remember wanting to go with her, but my dad said she'd be fine and we'd go visit her in the morning.
The morning never came... Well the morning came but my dad came home looking more sad than I had ever seen. My mom wasn't with him. "Where's my mommy?" I asked him. "She's not coming home Ilene, she's in heaven. She's not coming home"..
I don't even remember how I reacted.
Well I think I'll bring you back to my last memory of my mom, it was probably early February seeing as she passed away on the 4th..I have no clue what day of the week it was, or if it was a weekend or week day.
I remember getting up and my mom was still sleeping, and my dad was already gone for work. I did think it was strange that she wasn't up yet, since she was always awake ready for me in the kitchen, or calling me to get out of bed.
Oh well I figured she was tired and I could make my own cereal.. I decided on Shreddies, oh wow I love my Shreddies, add a little brown sugar on there and it's the perfect breakfast!
As I'm eating my cereal I remember hearing my mom get up, she didn't call my name or anything. Just went straight to the washroom.
Then I hear it, vomiting, crying... She's sick! Oh no, all i think is Daddy isn't hear to take care of her.
I can do it I tell myself. How hard can it be? All she'll be doing is staying in bed.
I remember getting her some orange juice, I had no clue why but for some reason when you're sick you drink orange juice. See I can do this! Not so hard, Oh and a pot! This way she can stay in bed and not have to keep running to the washroom.
As I start walking up the stairs I can hear her more clearly, as she was weeping in discomfort mumbling how awful she feels.. I know I've heard these words before, but I don't remember her actually physically being sick. I just remember the weeping and mumbling while ill in bed..
I put the orange juice on her side table, and the pot on the floor beside her side of the bed.
"What are you doing Ilene" I turn and see her at the doorway as she hunched over leaning in her dresser. She doesn't look well. Large dark wrings under her eyes, and her beautiful tanned skin looking sallow, my heart hurts... I'm suddenly a little scared.
"Mommy, are you ok?" I ask in a very shaky small voice. As her posture gets taller, she puts on a smile, clearl seeing the fear in my eyes she replies.. "I'm ok hunny, I'm sick but I'm ok."
"I got you some orange juice, and a pot so you don't have to go to the washroom." She walks over and pats my head before slowly climbing back into bed. "Thank you" she simply says and closes her eyes.
At this point I'm really not sure what happened next. Strange... Such an important part of my life and there's missing pieces..
The next thing I remember is my dad being home watching t.v on the couch and she's still in bed ill as can be. I remember thinking that it's bad, I remember being scared.
As I stand beside her bed talking to her, she asks me to ask my dad to get her some ginger ale.. I run out of the room towards the stairs and yell down "Daddy!! can you get Mommy some ginger ale?" No response.. I yell again "Daddy!" Nothing. "Ilene, walk down and ask him" My mom say's from the bedroom.
So I do. He's sleeping on the couch. "Daddy" I pat his shoulder "Daddy, mommy need some ginger ale" I say..
"WHAT!" he yells barley saying the word clear enough for me to understand. "Mommy needs some ginger ale" I repeat.
"Then go get it" he says.. Ok, I think how the heck am I going to open a bottle of pop!? I seriously have never done this before.
I go to the fridge and open the door hoping I can do this. If I can't I just know my dad is not going to be happy.. Nothing like waking up a grumpy parent who doesn't want to be woken..
As I pull this big bottle out of the fridge the door bangs me and of course... The bottle drops. I freeze thinking my dad is about to give me an ear full.. I wait, he doesn't say anything. Phew.. I pick it back up and notice foam at the top.. meh not sure what that's all about.
I open the bottle and the foam that was on the top blows out like a volcano, spraying me in the face and the entire little u shaped kitchen.. I scream! I had no idea that this would happen, and how did soo much foam come out of the top of this bottle!?
"Ilene, wtf is going on in there!?" My dad yells, as I can hear him getting up from the couch in the living room.. "I don't know, daddy the bottle made a mess"
"WTF, are you doing" he belches as he comes into the kitchen. "You said I could get mommy some ginger ale" I reply.. As that freakin frog comes back into my throat and tears appear into my eyes.
"What are you talking about Ilene, I never said you could pour pop!" I just shake my head yes but the words don't come out.. He grabs the bottle from my hands and grabs a cup from the cupboard slamming it down he pours some ginger ale for my mom.
"Do you think you can bring this to her Ilene, or should I bring it" he asks. "I can", I say just wanted to run upstairs to be with her.
I bring my mom's drink up to her, she takes a sip.. Weakly she asks what happened. "I just made a big mess mommy, I'm sorry". As I climb into bed with her she puts her arms around me and whispers in my ear "it's ok baby, thank you for my drink."
Again I forget what happened right after this..
The next thing I remember is a lot of commotion going on upstairs.. My dad yells out to me "Ilene call 911, tell them your mom is very sick".
I grab a chair from the dinning table and push it to the wall that separates the Kitchen from the Dinning area. I pick up the the old beige rotary phone hanging on the wall and dial 911, strange to some people, but I know what to expect on the other line. I've called a few times before when my parents had been fighting.. Only when my mom said to call would I call.
I don't remember the conversation with the operator. I don't remember my mom coming downstairs. I don't even remember saying bye to her. I don't remember kissing her goodbye, or what she said to me before leaving, if she was even able to say anything to me.
I remember crying and looking out the screen door, and seeing the paramedic's push her into the back of the ambulance as she laid out on the stretcher. I remember wanting to go with her, but my dad said she'd be fine and we'd go visit her in the morning.
The morning never came... Well the morning came but my dad came home looking more sad than I had ever seen. My mom wasn't with him. "Where's my mommy?" I asked him. "She's not coming home Ilene, she's in heaven. She's not coming home"..
I don't even remember how I reacted.
Friday, 20 January 2012
Last Christmas together
Funny since writing last night I can't seem to stop thinking about things that happened in my past.. What seems like someone else's life, definitely not mine, how could it really be mine? How did I get through it?
It was the last Christmas I spent with my mom and dad... I was 5 years old, yet it's the first Christmas I ever remember, kind of sad..
There were weeks leading up to Christmas Eve that we had no decorations up.. I remember going to visit my friends in the neighborhood for play dates, and they all had lights up outside their homes, beautiful Christmas wreaths hanging on their doors, and lovely Christmas trees up already with gifts under them.. I would ask my parents where our tree was, where were all our decorations. My dad said that Santa would bring us a tree on Christmas Eve. Lol really!? I thought what made us so special that Santa would hand deliver a Christmas tree to our place. He said that I was the best behaved little girl and I would get the greatest tree around. I didn't believe him, I don't even think I believed in Santa anymore for that matter.. I just wanted regular decorations, and a regular tree.. I didn't see the point in getting it the day of Christmas Eve, what was the point in having it up for one day?
The morning of Christmas Eve my dad came into my room and asked me to get up and get dressed and to come downstairs to see if the tree had arrived.. I jumped out of bed as he disappeared downstairs. I got dresses, brushed my hair and teeth with so much excitement I could burst out screaming.
If you know me, you know that my emotions are more heightened than the regular person.. I was excited!!
I ran downstairs and my mom was in the kitchen, but there was No Christmas tree in the living room... No decorations up.. Nothing!
I yelled "Mommy! Where is the tree"!? I wanted to cry I was suddenly so upset.. She came to me and in a very optimistic voice she said "I'm not sure, let's check the backyard".. As we walked to the sliding doors that led to the yard, I remember thinking where is daddy? I never mentioned it cause I didn't want to take the attention away from what we were doing and finding this tree.. As my mom opened our dark brown curtain, I grabbed it and pulled it back as fast as I could. Nope..... No tree. "See mommy, we should have gotten a tree" Once again that familiar frog was creeping into my throat, as I whipped away in frustration towards the couch to cry. What is wrong with these people? Of course Santa isn't going to give us a Tree, why didn't we just get our own like every other normal family? I didn't understand why my parents decided to wait this long for something that wasn't going to happen.
Out of no where there was a thud at the window, and my mom looked out. "Ilene, come look" I jumped off the couch to see.
And in the middle of the yard there it was!!! A gorgeous full real Christmas tree.. "How did that happen?" I said.. "We just looked out" Suddenly my dad was behind us and said "what's going on over here?"
"Daddy! You were right" "mommy and I just looked and there was no tree and now it's here. How did it get there Daddy?" He simply replied "Magic" That's all he had to say. I believed him.
After getting the tree into the house the three of us started to decorate it, and the entire house. My mom put Christmas music on. We danced, sang, and played around.
We made chocolate chip cookies for Santa, and my dad decided he had to test them out before we set them out for Santa. Oh this man had a weakness for his chocolate chip cookies.. He'd eat the entire package if you left it in front of him.
So we all had a few and saved one for Santa. We figured we were the ones doing all this hard work, we deserved a treat!
We hung tinsel on the ceiling, bulbs on the tree along with homemade decorations my mom and I made together. And an amazing angel on the top that lit up.
They were right! It was the greatest day I remember with them. Our home was like a home out of the books, out of the movies. It sparkled, and smelled like Christmas.
My mom did my hair and got me all dressed up into a pretty dress, after getting herself ready. When she got ready she went all out! By far the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She would line her eyes with liner and shadow, curl her eye lashes after putting on dark red lipstick which made her perfect lips look like a movie stars.
After getting all dolled up her and I were out for the Christmas Eve service at an Anglican church downtown that she liked to go to.
I didn't know to much about Jesus and I didn't get how come the entire world would celebrate the birthday of a man who wasn't even alive anymore. I didn't care though, it was fun. I got to spend time with my mom and sing, even go to a special class where I got to make more decorations for our tree!
The next morning was a dream!
I woke up and ran into their room yelling it's Christmas, it's Christmas!!! My parents got up right away. My dad went downstairs to prepare breakfast, while my mom helped me get into my dress, and she quickly pinned my hair up in a bow. I guess for pictures.
We went downstairs and it was amazing! And oh man the decorations, and all the gifts filled me with so much happiness, and excitement. I ran beside the tree where we left the cookie and milk for Santa, sure enough it was gone.. "Did he really eat it Mommy?" "It's gone isn't it" she replied.. Alright I thought, just wanting to get to the gifts.
I got everything I could dream of, from a barbie house and barbies, to a talking Teddy Rupskin, a huge toboggan, dress up princess clothes.
It was perfect.
Wow.... Writing this is hard. I haven't thought about this part of my life in so long. Funny how you sometimes decide to just not go there.. To push memories deep into your mind, and forget about them..
Done for now
It was the last Christmas I spent with my mom and dad... I was 5 years old, yet it's the first Christmas I ever remember, kind of sad..
There were weeks leading up to Christmas Eve that we had no decorations up.. I remember going to visit my friends in the neighborhood for play dates, and they all had lights up outside their homes, beautiful Christmas wreaths hanging on their doors, and lovely Christmas trees up already with gifts under them.. I would ask my parents where our tree was, where were all our decorations. My dad said that Santa would bring us a tree on Christmas Eve. Lol really!? I thought what made us so special that Santa would hand deliver a Christmas tree to our place. He said that I was the best behaved little girl and I would get the greatest tree around. I didn't believe him, I don't even think I believed in Santa anymore for that matter.. I just wanted regular decorations, and a regular tree.. I didn't see the point in getting it the day of Christmas Eve, what was the point in having it up for one day?
The morning of Christmas Eve my dad came into my room and asked me to get up and get dressed and to come downstairs to see if the tree had arrived.. I jumped out of bed as he disappeared downstairs. I got dresses, brushed my hair and teeth with so much excitement I could burst out screaming.
If you know me, you know that my emotions are more heightened than the regular person.. I was excited!!
I ran downstairs and my mom was in the kitchen, but there was No Christmas tree in the living room... No decorations up.. Nothing!
I yelled "Mommy! Where is the tree"!? I wanted to cry I was suddenly so upset.. She came to me and in a very optimistic voice she said "I'm not sure, let's check the backyard".. As we walked to the sliding doors that led to the yard, I remember thinking where is daddy? I never mentioned it cause I didn't want to take the attention away from what we were doing and finding this tree.. As my mom opened our dark brown curtain, I grabbed it and pulled it back as fast as I could. Nope..... No tree. "See mommy, we should have gotten a tree" Once again that familiar frog was creeping into my throat, as I whipped away in frustration towards the couch to cry. What is wrong with these people? Of course Santa isn't going to give us a Tree, why didn't we just get our own like every other normal family? I didn't understand why my parents decided to wait this long for something that wasn't going to happen.
Out of no where there was a thud at the window, and my mom looked out. "Ilene, come look" I jumped off the couch to see.
And in the middle of the yard there it was!!! A gorgeous full real Christmas tree.. "How did that happen?" I said.. "We just looked out" Suddenly my dad was behind us and said "what's going on over here?"
"Daddy! You were right" "mommy and I just looked and there was no tree and now it's here. How did it get there Daddy?" He simply replied "Magic" That's all he had to say. I believed him.
After getting the tree into the house the three of us started to decorate it, and the entire house. My mom put Christmas music on. We danced, sang, and played around.
We made chocolate chip cookies for Santa, and my dad decided he had to test them out before we set them out for Santa. Oh this man had a weakness for his chocolate chip cookies.. He'd eat the entire package if you left it in front of him.
So we all had a few and saved one for Santa. We figured we were the ones doing all this hard work, we deserved a treat!
We hung tinsel on the ceiling, bulbs on the tree along with homemade decorations my mom and I made together. And an amazing angel on the top that lit up.
They were right! It was the greatest day I remember with them. Our home was like a home out of the books, out of the movies. It sparkled, and smelled like Christmas.
My mom did my hair and got me all dressed up into a pretty dress, after getting herself ready. When she got ready she went all out! By far the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She would line her eyes with liner and shadow, curl her eye lashes after putting on dark red lipstick which made her perfect lips look like a movie stars.
After getting all dolled up her and I were out for the Christmas Eve service at an Anglican church downtown that she liked to go to.
I didn't know to much about Jesus and I didn't get how come the entire world would celebrate the birthday of a man who wasn't even alive anymore. I didn't care though, it was fun. I got to spend time with my mom and sing, even go to a special class where I got to make more decorations for our tree!
The next morning was a dream!
I woke up and ran into their room yelling it's Christmas, it's Christmas!!! My parents got up right away. My dad went downstairs to prepare breakfast, while my mom helped me get into my dress, and she quickly pinned my hair up in a bow. I guess for pictures.
We went downstairs and it was amazing! And oh man the decorations, and all the gifts filled me with so much happiness, and excitement. I ran beside the tree where we left the cookie and milk for Santa, sure enough it was gone.. "Did he really eat it Mommy?" "It's gone isn't it" she replied.. Alright I thought, just wanting to get to the gifts.
I got everything I could dream of, from a barbie house and barbies, to a talking Teddy Rupskin, a huge toboggan, dress up princess clothes.
It was perfect.
Wow.... Writing this is hard. I haven't thought about this part of my life in so long. Funny how you sometimes decide to just not go there.. To push memories deep into your mind, and forget about them..
Thursday, 19 January 2012
My Start
I've never done this.. And to be honest I don't know what I'm doing.. Lol But I feel if I write down everything that's been going on in my life over the past 29 years, maybe I can finally let go and move on from it. maybe it can help everyone understand who I am. And maybe someone else can relate in some way.
I'll probably be all over the place so bare with me.
So most importantly, I love Jesus and there are many times in my story you will forget that.. Only because more time than not I've been a hypocrite, and in some very dark parts of my life, and others not so dark, I ignored God and His voice. I listened to someone dark, someone that ruins lives, and hurts everyone of those who let him in or don't realize he's actually there trying to pull some strings.. It started in the lives of my mom and dad, they let darkness into their lives, and I paid for it a bunch of us did.
That being said I'll start this opening blog with one of my first memories when I was around 4 years old..
It's hard to say if it's just another party, or an actual celebration... My parents had people over and partied hard probably every weekend.
I'd be in my bed and awaken by some loud music, loud talking, and laughter that any young girl would want to be apart of.
As I'd creep quietly down the stairs knowing exactly where the creeks were on the stairs just from sneaking around so often, I'd hear the noise getting louder and louder.. I'd peek my head around the corner into the dinning/living room, and I'd see my mom sitting with some friends laughing away. She'd be laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face, while my dad and his friends were telling stories. Apparently my dad was quite the funny guy.. Not always, but right at that moment my mom couldn't get enough of him and I just wanted to run into his arms..
I remember loving to watch them when they were so happy, all the laughter that filled the home made me feel safe, normal. Little did I realize what the morning would bring, it's funny how you forget something so awful when you're so young. I guess I'll get to that in a bit.
My mom sees me and calls me over to them "Ilene, my princess get over here"! Music to my ears, I'd run down and suddenly I was the life of the party. Everyone laughing and clapping as they'd get me to dance away, as my dad would play the guitar, and my mom would sing her heart out.
Wow this woman's voice was what I envision an angels voice to be, soothing yet powerful. Considering the size of her, no one would expect this strong voice coming out of such a small woman. She was no taller than 5ft, long black hair, with her dark ebony eyes, and her beautiful tanned looking skin was always soft, along with one heck of a fit body for a woman who did nothing more than walk everywhere.
I'd dance for my parents and their friends, I'd jump around and act silly, just to be apart of the party my parents loved so much, to enjoy all the laughter was more fun than anything I had experienced..
My mom would bring me upstairs after Id fall asleep in her arms as she'd be singing. She'd kiss me and tell me how much she loved me, how I was her angel.
I'd awake by noise again, as the early morning sun would appear orange and dim on my walls.. It was probably as early as 6am.. This time the noise wasn't so joyful.. It was screaming, the shrill in my mom's voice turned my stomach as I could feel the frog in my throat.. Hearing the anger in their voices and screams broke my heart.. I'd put my head under the pillow and pray the yelling would stop. It didn't.
Once again I'd creep out of my bed, this time I only made it to the the top of the stairs.. Suddenly my mom was running up the stairs only stopped suddenly by a hand. The hand held her ankle as I watched my mom fall to the stairs hitting her face on the step getting dragged back down..
There was more arguing, by this time I had ran back into my bedroom and was back under the covers waiting for this nightmare to stop..
The door of my room suddenly opens and slams loudly.. I slowly put the covers down as I saw my mom standing at the door wearing nothing but her under ware and bra, her hair a mess, as she stands over me with a huge knife her hand.. "baby, get up" she says. So I did, strangely enough I didn't even wonder why she was carrying this knife, or why she had no clothes on.. She put the knife between my box spring and mattress, and decided to push my dresser in front on the door as we hear my dad yelling around downstairs.. Looking back she was clearly scared shitless, and I had no clue what was going on.
I remember feeling scared.. She laid with me and held me until I fall back asleep.
When I woke up again and heard arguing, I'm not as scared.. I'm hungry, thirsty.. More than I am scared.
This time I don't sneak downstairs, if anything I run hard so they can hear me coming. By the time I get to the bottom they were both sitting on the couch and both in their under ware.... Finally quiet.
They both look at me and say nothing.. I walked up to them and simply say "daddy say sorry to mommy", and "mommy say sorry to mommy" and without a word they look at each other.
After a few moment my dad says he's sorry, and she does the same. As they hug and kiss, they grab me and thank me for making them apologize.. Strange how such a great evening can turn into such a heartbreaking morning.. Oh well...Once again things seem right in my world.
For now
I'll probably be all over the place so bare with me.
So most importantly, I love Jesus and there are many times in my story you will forget that.. Only because more time than not I've been a hypocrite, and in some very dark parts of my life, and others not so dark, I ignored God and His voice. I listened to someone dark, someone that ruins lives, and hurts everyone of those who let him in or don't realize he's actually there trying to pull some strings.. It started in the lives of my mom and dad, they let darkness into their lives, and I paid for it a bunch of us did.
That being said I'll start this opening blog with one of my first memories when I was around 4 years old..
It's hard to say if it's just another party, or an actual celebration... My parents had people over and partied hard probably every weekend.
I'd be in my bed and awaken by some loud music, loud talking, and laughter that any young girl would want to be apart of.
As I'd creep quietly down the stairs knowing exactly where the creeks were on the stairs just from sneaking around so often, I'd hear the noise getting louder and louder.. I'd peek my head around the corner into the dinning/living room, and I'd see my mom sitting with some friends laughing away. She'd be laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face, while my dad and his friends were telling stories. Apparently my dad was quite the funny guy.. Not always, but right at that moment my mom couldn't get enough of him and I just wanted to run into his arms..
I remember loving to watch them when they were so happy, all the laughter that filled the home made me feel safe, normal. Little did I realize what the morning would bring, it's funny how you forget something so awful when you're so young. I guess I'll get to that in a bit.
My mom sees me and calls me over to them "Ilene, my princess get over here"! Music to my ears, I'd run down and suddenly I was the life of the party. Everyone laughing and clapping as they'd get me to dance away, as my dad would play the guitar, and my mom would sing her heart out.
Wow this woman's voice was what I envision an angels voice to be, soothing yet powerful. Considering the size of her, no one would expect this strong voice coming out of such a small woman. She was no taller than 5ft, long black hair, with her dark ebony eyes, and her beautiful tanned looking skin was always soft, along with one heck of a fit body for a woman who did nothing more than walk everywhere.
I'd dance for my parents and their friends, I'd jump around and act silly, just to be apart of the party my parents loved so much, to enjoy all the laughter was more fun than anything I had experienced..
My mom would bring me upstairs after Id fall asleep in her arms as she'd be singing. She'd kiss me and tell me how much she loved me, how I was her angel.
I'd awake by noise again, as the early morning sun would appear orange and dim on my walls.. It was probably as early as 6am.. This time the noise wasn't so joyful.. It was screaming, the shrill in my mom's voice turned my stomach as I could feel the frog in my throat.. Hearing the anger in their voices and screams broke my heart.. I'd put my head under the pillow and pray the yelling would stop. It didn't.
Once again I'd creep out of my bed, this time I only made it to the the top of the stairs.. Suddenly my mom was running up the stairs only stopped suddenly by a hand. The hand held her ankle as I watched my mom fall to the stairs hitting her face on the step getting dragged back down..
There was more arguing, by this time I had ran back into my bedroom and was back under the covers waiting for this nightmare to stop..
The door of my room suddenly opens and slams loudly.. I slowly put the covers down as I saw my mom standing at the door wearing nothing but her under ware and bra, her hair a mess, as she stands over me with a huge knife her hand.. "baby, get up" she says. So I did, strangely enough I didn't even wonder why she was carrying this knife, or why she had no clothes on.. She put the knife between my box spring and mattress, and decided to push my dresser in front on the door as we hear my dad yelling around downstairs.. Looking back she was clearly scared shitless, and I had no clue what was going on.
I remember feeling scared.. She laid with me and held me until I fall back asleep.
When I woke up again and heard arguing, I'm not as scared.. I'm hungry, thirsty.. More than I am scared.
This time I don't sneak downstairs, if anything I run hard so they can hear me coming. By the time I get to the bottom they were both sitting on the couch and both in their under ware.... Finally quiet.
They both look at me and say nothing.. I walked up to them and simply say "daddy say sorry to mommy", and "mommy say sorry to mommy" and without a word they look at each other.
After a few moment my dad says he's sorry, and she does the same. As they hug and kiss, they grab me and thank me for making them apologize.. Strange how such a great evening can turn into such a heartbreaking morning.. Oh well...Once again things seem right in my world.
For now
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)