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The Death of my Dad – Part II

If you have the ability to listen to this video, please do as you read because it will enhance your reading experience. This was the song that I listened to throughout my grieving period and it was comforting.

Part I

As I stated in my previous post, this ended up being one of the most emotionally draining experiences of my life.

So, now I was at my dad’s house and my step mom was there with the youngest of my 3 stepsisters. Though she was the youngest, she was still older than I was. Now, let me begin this part of the story with letting you know that my step mom is a bit over dramatic and a queen of pity parties; this being to the point that my stepsister felt the need to warn me before entering the house so I would know what to expect.

Over the next few days, I would be subjected to listening to the ‘death story’ repeatedly, more times than I could count. At one point, I just had to go outside to get away from it for a while. My stepsister joined me and tried to comfort me, understanding that her mother was being ridiculous, even for the situation. I cannot convey an accurate view of how she was going on about it all, but it just wasn’t normal. I even had other family members take me aside at times to ask me why she was being so outlandish; it really was embarrassing to everyone.

At one point, the family (extended family included) was having dinner at a restaurant and she just flipped. Someone asked her how she was holding up and she verbally bashed them in front of the entire restaurant. It was an elderly woman who had asked; I think she was in her 70’s or so. Then everyone just looked at me like I was suppose to do something about it… I was 19 and hadn’t seen her since I was 8 (she didn’t come to my grandmother’s funeral).

It was like this day in and day out. At one point, I was taking a bath b/c for some reason they did not have a shower in the guest bathroom, and she barged in and started complaining about all sorts of things, like why were people asking her how she was holding up. Oh, did I tell you that they also did not have a shower curtain??? I felt so violated.

My only comforting moments were spent with my dad’s dog, Sassy, who would come in with me during the night.

Oh my, that reminds me… my sister came in my room one night at about 4 am talking all sorts of gibberish and flopped on the bed. My step mom came in because of the noise and told her to go back to bed. Apparently, she was sleep walking.

Ok, so I think on the third night I was there, my step mom, sister and I all went to dinner – I don’t remember where, but when the waiter came to ask us what we wanted… all of a sudden… BAM!!!! It finally hit me!

Right there in the restaurant I began to cry uncontrollably (which is not like me). I was so embarrassed and felt so alone, I didn’t have anyone to talk to because my step mom was literally loosing it so I couldn’t burden her with my thoughts and feelings, my mom was in another state and I couldn’t call her long distance, my aunt was grieving and dealing with her personal problems between her and my step mom (they were arguing over the grave and who would pay what, etc.) on and on and on…

So, I ran to the bathroom while hearing my step mom then proceed to explain to the waiter that my dad had just died and she went into full detail of how, etc.

While in the bathroom, all I could do was pray. I prayed that God would be with me through this very difficult time and that He would give me the comfort and strength to get through all of this. I was not aware at the time, just how He would do this… but He did.

The next day was the viewing and this brought a whole new stress to the situation. My step mom had a death grip on me until others showed up. Once other family and friends showed up, she left me to gain support from them… the ones who would still talk to her by that point. She had nearly attacked almost everyone in my family by that point.

During this time, I stayed by my dad’s casket and stared at him. I knew it wasn’t him but his body… I wondered what he might have thought when he was dieing. Did he think about me? I placed my hand upon his and said my good-byes. I didn’t want to leave his side, but others came to me to say that I should allow others to give their respects, so I sat down in a pew about three from the front.

I looked around to see everyone giving comfort to my step mom and talking amongst themselves, but no one came to me… they didn’t know me or were preoccupied by the somewhat family reunion.

I placed my head in my arms, which rested on the back of the pew in front of me and prayed again for comfort and strength.

Well, the next thing I knew, I felt a hand on my shoulder, then another one on my back. I heard the voice of a child saying to me as she caressed my hair, “Its alright, don’t be sad, he is in heaven. It’s going to be ok.”

I looked up and I was surrounded by about 8 children from 3 years to around 8 years old… all trying to comfort me. This moved me so deeply that I almost couldn’t speak. All I could say is, “I know” and “Thank you”… They stayed with me.

No adult ever came to me, no adult ever said a word to me that night… just the children. I knew that was God. He used the little children to comfort me. Through the mouths of babes, I tell ya.

The next day was the funeral.

Early, we awoke and got ready. Everything seemed fine, as fine could be. Then came the limousines. As soon as we stepped out of the doorway to the house, my step mom began screaming and saying “No, no, no” while she planted her feet in the ground, forcing others to practically drag her to the car.

My aunt was there by this time (at the house). Once we were in the car, my step mom, my stepsisters, their kids and me… when my aunt was going to get into the car, my step mom said to her that there was no room for her. This really upset my aunt because she was more family to my dad then my step sisters and kids, plus, I think I heard later that my aunt was the one paying for it.

I had to hear my step mom complain about it all the way to the funeral. I just wanted to jump out of the car and run as far away from everything as I could.

Once we got to where the funeral service was held… we had some time, so I didn’t think I could handle being around everyone then… I went to the restroom which had a sitting room attached to it. I sat there and prayed. I didn’t know how I was going to get through this.

The next thing I knew was that someone came in and said that they were about to start the services. So, I gathered my composure and went to the sanctuary. On my way down the isle a man who said that he was very pleased to finally meet me stopped me. He told me that my dad spoke of me often. This made me feel a bit better. I also found out that he didn’t know that I had another sister, which I thought was interesting (for more history about that please click here).

I do not remember the funeral, as far as what was said but I have a video of it, though, it not very good quality. When we were at the gravesite, I sat in the front with the other immediate family members, excluding my aunt again and her family, thanks to my step mom. The things I remember about this, was that the sun broke through the clouds… a plane flew over head and the priest kept looking at me oddly as he spoke and prayed. It was almost like he could see something… but what, I thought. My dad had to have a priest preside over the burial because the gravesite was at a Catholic cemetery. It was a family plot that my grandparents paid for long before I was even a thought.

The only other part that I remember now, is my flight home. It was the first time that I was leaving L.A. without spending time with my grandmother and/or my dad. I thought how my experiences with California died with them… and I began to cry. I remember listening to a tape I had brought with me: “I’ll Be There” by the Escape Club below is the actual video for the song…

Tear just flowed down my face. A flight attendant asked me if I was ok, so I told him that my dad had died. He was very attentive after that and I greatly appreciated it. Over the next years, it would hit me here and there. I just learned to let myself feel the pain so that I wouldn’t explode in the future.

There are times that I wish that I could share with him. We began speaking again when I was in high school, over the phone. I had told him that I would be visiting him that summer, but I wasn’t able to. It brings back memories of almost seeing my grandmother but she died right before I was able.

If you get nothing else out of this post, please don’t hesitate to spend the time that you have with your loved ones. Tell them how you feel… and trust in God to carry you through those times that you don’t think you can make it through – He won’t let you down. Thank you for reading this. I look forward to your comments.

The Death of my Dad – Part I

If you have the ability to listen to this video, please do as you read because it will enhance your reading experience. This was the song that I listened to throughout my grieving period and it was comforting.

Today I am going to write about the death of my dad. I have previously shared some minute details HERE about my relationship with my dad but I haven’t really gone into what happened when he died. So, here we go…

My dad passed away when I was barely 19 and I had not actually seen him since I was 13 at my grandmother’s funeral, which you can read about HERE and before that when I was 8, more on that HERE.

So, I had just moved back from North Carolina to Texas (I will write about that in another post). I was living with my brother at the time, my mom was in North Carolina… Anyway, I was asleep and the phone rang. Well, my brother was at work so I answered it. My mom was on the other line. Let me back up a bit…

First of all, when the phone rang, I got this gut wrenching feeling that made me feel nauseas and I wasn’t sure if I should answer it, but because my brother wasn’t there I thought that I better. So, I did.

As soon as I heard my mom’s voice sounding somber, I knew something had happened. Well, my first reaction was again as before with my grandmother’s death, was to ask who died… but this time I thought better of it not to. I always felt guilty for that moment in the past, almost as though I caused it by predicting it – even after the fact of it happening. If you are lost in this post, please read the previous ones with links listed above.

Anyhow, this time, I decided to stay silent and let her tell me whatever she was going to tell me… but as before, she hesitated, which forced me to ask her to just tell me. So, she did.

She said that she had some bad news and it was about my dad. Now, because this conversation was taking way too long for my patience, I couldn’t help myself but to speed it along by asking… “Did he die?” She said, “Yes.”

So, I asked what happened, as the all too familiar numbness over took my mind and body. After she was done explaining the few details that she knew, I had to ask again because my mind had officially gone into shock. She then repeated herself by telling me that all she knew was that he died in his sleep the night before and that my step mom would be calling me.

It was odd, the feelings or lack thereof that over took me. I thought to myself that I should cry, yet, no tears would come. I then thought… uh oh, when this hits me it is going to be bad. I later found that to be an accurate thought.

[side note: I can already tell that this is going to be a long post so I may need to break it up into two posts… sorry about that.]

I knew that I was going to have to do a lot over the next few days and it wasn’t going to be easy. You see, I am a very introverted person… very shy, and I was going to have to go through all of this on my own.

My first objective was to book a flight. Well, after speaking with a travel agent and hearing how much it was going to cost… I wasn’t sure I would be able to fly to CA for the funeral. She told me that I could get a bereavement discount if I could provide a death certificate along with the location and details of the funeral… now I had to get all of that information and get it to them within a day. That task in its self was almost too much to deal with.

When my step mom finally called, she told me that she was putting it off as long as possible because she was dreading telling me.

She told me that he had been having headaches for about a week but refused to go to the doctor because he hated doctors. She said that during the day he died, he was unusually tired and ended up going to bed early. When she went to bed, he told her that he loved her and rolled over to go back to sleep. Well, in the night, she had to go to the restroom and while she was there she heard something sounding like him taking a really deep breath.

She checked on him and he had passed away. She freaked out and called 911. The operator told her to put him on a hard surface and perform respiration on him. Well, he was too heavy for her so she had to go get the neighbor to help her. He came over and helped her, but it was too late.

He was pronounced dead at the hospital. They said, that he had a brain aneurysm, which caused a heart attack.

So, she then helped me with getting the information that I needed to be able to fly out there. Next I had to deal with where I was going to stay… Boy, this turned out to be a lasting hassle that I was not prepared for. See, my aunt… my dad’s sister, wanted me to stay with them and my step mom wanted me to stay with her.

Well, I flew in to LA and ended up waiting an hour before my aunt got there to pick me up… that side of my family seems to always be late as you know from reading the post about when I was 8.

When she finally showed up, she was with my cousin… the one I spoke about regarding my grandmother’s death. Well, when she was asking me repeatedly to stay with them, he was there giving me the look of death. He desperately did NOT want me staying with them. I proceeded to tell her that I really appreciated her offer but that I thought that my step mom needed me to stay with her and that I wanted to be where my dad’s things were. She said ok and finally dropped it to the relief of my cousin.

My aunt drove us to Taco Bell, which was great because I was starving at the time and then she took me to my dad’s house. I did not know at the time that I should have enjoyed my flight and meal for as long as I could because what was coming was going to be one of the most emotionally draining experiences of my life…

To continue reading this story, please click here.

My Salvation

Today, I thought that I would share with you my salvation testimony. When I was younger, from birth, my grandmother and my dad would take me to church. They were Catholic. Though they never told me how to be saved, they told me who God was and who Jesus was, etc.

I remember whenever my dad would take me, he would always do the same rituals, which I did not understand why… I asked him one day and he said, “That’s just what you do”… well, that wasn’t good enough for me, but I thought it was fun at the time.

When we would enter the sanctuary part, we would turn to either the right or the left and there would be a bronze bowl attached to the wall, which held water, supposedly holy water. With this, he would take his two fingers (index and middle), dip it into the water, then proceed to move in a cross formation from his head to his chest, then from shoulder to shoulder.

Once this was done, we would walk down the isle to whatever pew he wanted to sit in. At this point, he would kneel down to the side of the pew before entering… he would kneel on one knee and perform the cross maneuvers which ended with him kissing his index finger knuckle. Once this was completed, he would proceed to his desired seat.

I remember the pews had those knee rest cushions that you drop down when you are going to kneel and pray, he would do this almost immediately after sitting. While he prayed, I would look around at all of the statues and stained glass as well as the gothic style lanterns, which hung from the ceiling.

My favorite part was lighting the prayer candles. I guess I just liked candles. Well, over time, my dad left the Catholic church for true Christianity… A Christianity without praying to idols. His last experience with the Catholic church was when they began to tell the congregation that they had to kiss the statue of Mary’s feet so that she would grant their prayers. How absurd he thought. So, he left.

When I was 10, I had already become quite familiar with God and Jesus… other than the part about ‘getting’ saved. For some reason, no one ever told me about that part. So, one day a Pastor came by our home and my mom let him in. He sat on the couch and proceeded to tell my mom about salvation.

Well, I just got soooo excited that I didn’t want to wait. I kept interrupting him, trying to get him to let me be saved, but he kept on telling me to wait for my mom. He believed that my mom should be saved first so that she would be my elder in the Body of Christ. This was a Baptist Pastor.

Gratefully, my mom accepted Christ and so did I – finally! So, the next thing on the list was our baptism. We were baptized shortly thereafter, which I was very excited about too.

I began to memorize some verses from Sunday School and some songs/hymns. I loved going to church. I would invite every one of my friends; this seemed to impress the Pastor… I just loved church.

After some time, we ended up having to move out of state… this also ended us going to church. I found out later from my mom that there was a new black family who had come to our church and the members snubbed them… well, this did not sit well with my mom, so she became somewhat jaded towards church.

So, when I was about 13, my brother became involved in the Word of Faith movement with Benny Hinn, etc. and it was at this time that I learned more about the Holy Spirit and the gifts of the Spirit… not knowing how deceptive this movement was or would be, but none the less, I learned some things.

My brother taught me about the “name it and claim it” gospel, which I tried and it worked. Well, for some things anyway…

Then one day, to be exact… it was the day of the Oklahoma bombing… I had stayed home from school (I was in college at the time) and I watched it nonstop on television. I was horrified and thought it was so hard to believe. With that, I heard a pastor on television talking about the plagues in Egypt in the Bible with Moses, so I thought to myself… “I don’t know what plagues there were, in what order they happened, etc.” I thought, “How do I know if this guy is even telling the truth?”

So, I decided that I couldn’t believe or serve a God that I knew nothing about and the only way to find out what pleases Him or really ticks Him off, was to read His Word. That day was the first day that I began reading through the Bible from cover to cover. When I had finished, almost a year later, I was a completely different person.

During that time was when my dad had passed away, which is a story for another day.

I threw out all of my old CD’s and anything that wasn’t pleasing to God. I changed my friends and my focus. It was amazing! I had a very close friend who was like a brother to me at the time and he didn’t know what was going on with me. I knew that if I told him everything then he would think I was crazy… he couldn’t handle the truth in its entirety all upfront, so I asked God that when my friend was ready, to have him ask me questions that he was ready to hear the answers to and I would tell him.

So, that is what I did. Over a period of a couple of months he would ask some questions and all I would do is answer them, as to the point as possible and then I would stop talking about it. He later said that he was shocked that I didn’t just force it down his throat like others have. Anyway, after a couple of months, he decided to accept Christ as his Lord and Savoir and he was baptized. To this day, he has been through a lot but he is still true to the Word and standing firm in his faith.

That year taught me a lot about being patient and trusting in God for comfort and strength. I learned how to understand what was actually right and wrong because the world does not teach that… the world waters down what is wrong and attacks what is right.

That was the beginning of my journey. I have had many ups and downs through the years and I will probably have many more for as long as I am here, but my hope is that I will continue to grow closer to the Lord through His Word and be the witness He has called me to be.

If you would like to know more about salvation, please visit: The Gift of Salvation

Alison Krauss “Down In The River To Pray (Live) – Video

A Little More About Me – Part III

Part I
Part II

Story II: The death of my grandmother

My grandmother, my dad’s mother, was my best friend growing up. I loved her beyond words and I was her favorite, so her death really affected me deeply. The really sad thing was that my mom and I were going to visit her the next weekend.

At the time, we lived in Arizona and my grandmother lived in California… so the drive there was about a day.

Well, I was at a friend’s house getting ready to have a sleep over party (I had just turned 13 the month before), when my mom called my friend’s parents. As soon as they got off the phone with her, they told me that I had to get my things because my mom was coming to pick me up. I asked why, but they wouldn’t tell me anything. So, I gathered my things and waited.

During my wait, my mind imagined everything it could be… but I just couldn’t figure it out. I became upset that I wasn’t going to be able to stay with my friends.

Once my mom got there, I kept asking her what was going on but she wouldn’t say anything. I asked her if I had done something wrong and she said no, but that was all she would say.

Finally, when we got home… we walked into the house and my mom told me to sit down. All of a sudden, like a flood as thick as blood, shot through my entire being. I looked up at my mom and said, “Who died?”.

She just stared at me with a shocked face…

Silence fell for about 30 seconds, though it felt like 30 minutes.

I asked, “Was it dad or grandma?”.

Again, silence with a stare.

Finally, after I thought I would never get an answer, she said, “Yes”…. “It was your grandma”.

Well, shock ran through my body and numbed my brain… I looked off so that I could digest all that she was about to say. I then asked, “What happened?”.

She then proceeded to tell me that my grandmother was on her way to pick up her social security check, and while crossing the street, she was hit by a car.

Well, that is all I knew until we met with my dad a couple days before the funeral. Apparently, my grandmother had hidden her check in the bottom of her purse and placed a small box of Kleenex on top of it so that my cousin, who was about 7 at the time, couldn’t find it… he had a bad habit of going through her things.

So, because she couldn’t see it and she was beginning to get Alzheimer’s… she forgot she put it there. Well, on her way to church – walking – she saw the SS office across the street and remembered that she thought she had not received her check for that month… so, she began to cross the street.

The street was a fairly busy street and in the median, there were some bushes. The driver never saw her until it was too late. She hit the front bumper, flew up to the window, cracked her head on the metal piece that separates the windshield from the side window and continued over the car until she came down onto the street.

She lay in a coma for a few hours while my dad said his good byes, then she died. My dad said that he was holding her hand and she squeezed it, but the doctors told him it was involuntary.

When I saw my grandmother at her viewing, it was the first time I had ever seen a dead person up close. I knew she wasn’t in that shell – it made me feel empty. I felt lost being in California without her there.

I went to her house and sat out front in her yard… she had these ½ stoop pillars that I would sit on as a young child and watch the birds. I tried to remember being with her and the conversations that we had. I knew that I wanted something to remember her by, so I took her nametag from when she would volunteer at the hospital. I still have it.

My little cousin, who is 6 years younger than I, was paranoid by her body. He didn’t want to go anywhere near her. I tried to explain to him that it wasn’t her and it wouldn’t bite him, but he was 7.

So, that is more detail into that story. I will continue my history in a later post. Please subscribe to my blog so that you will not miss anything.

A Little More About Me – Part II

Wow, Part I was pretty cleansing. I am not one to normally talk about myself like this, so this is an interesting experience to say the least. Now, here we go on Part II.

Previously, I spoke mostly about my sister… or “half” sister, as she would put it. I had referred to other stories in that first part that I will clarify in more detail here now.

Story I: The incident when I was 8

During the summer of my 8th year, I went to visit my grandmother and my dad out in Southern California, as usual. See, the way things worked was that, my mom would put me on a plane… by myself… to see them. Well, normally, my grandmother would pick me up and we would go to visit my dad. I would always stay at my grandmother’s house at night and visit with my dad on some days.

Well, for some reason… apparently my dad and step mom had been bugging my grandmother to let me stay with them, but she would always abide by my mom’s wishes… until now.

Long Beach Airport

When I arrived at the airport in California, my grandmother was no where in sight. There was a stewardess who stayed with me to make sure that I was picked up by the proper person. Well, after about 30 minutes… no one came. So, she took me and another little boy who was left there, to a back area which was open to the planes. Back then, you had to walk out to the plane and then up stairs to the plane’s door.

We, the boy and I, both sat there watching television while we waited. Soon, his dad came and picked him up… and I still sat there. After awhile, what seemed like an hour more, a man who worked there came to get me. He said that there was a man who said that he was there to pick me up and that I should not go to him until I know who he is. Well, as soon as I saw him, I yelled “Daddy”! So, the airplane man said… “Well, I guess she knows you.”

My dad informed me that apparently, I would be staying with them this year. Well, he had to go back to work, so he dropped me off at his house where my step mom was and said that he would see me later. My step mom put me in their back room which was usually a storage room, and still looked like one, only it had a bed in it now.

She told me to unpack and she would make me something to eat. So I did. Well, some time went by and the sun was about to set, so she told me that I had to go to bed. I said that I wanted to wait so that I could see my dad, but she said no. So, she put me in the room, but what I didn’t know, was that she had locked the door behind me. I found that out in the morning when I couldn’t open the door.

My step mom would keep the door locked until my dad would leave to go to work and then lock me back in before he came home. She just told him that I was sleeping. My dad and step mom had a few dogs, one of which was a germen shepherd named KC. Well, all the previous dogs, I had pretty much grown up with… so they knew me and were nice to me, but KC did not know me. KC would glare at me, she was about my size at the time and if I moved she would bark. She would corner me in a room and not let me go anywhere.

Picture below link

Well, one day, my step mom had to go somewhere and she wanted to leave me at home by myself, so, she sat me down in the living room in a chair and told me not to move. She told KC to watch me, and she left. Well, KC did watch me. Every time I tried to get up, she would growl and step closer to me. I was so scared.

All I could do was pray…

Then, KC got hungry and left the room. I thought… this is my only chance, so I immediately jumped up… carefully and quietly, and got to the phone in the kitchen. I called my mom at work in Texas and told her that I couldn’t talk because my step mom might get back. I told her what had happened and said that she was pulling into the driveway so I had to go. My mom said not to worry that she would come and get me.

As soon as she got off of the phone, she told her boss what had happened and he asked her if she needed his gun. My mom said, “I don’t need a gun, that family is scared enough of me”. So, my mom was on the first flight she could get, which got her there the next day.

Oh my gosh!!! What happened next was a nightmare that a child would never forget.

The next day, I saw my grandmother pull up and I thought, here we go. My dad and grandmother would argue all the time, they are like those families, who the way they talk is that they argue. Well, she came to the door, knocked and my dad answered it. This was in the morning before he was going to leave, luckily I was let out of my room for this one.

My grandmother told my dad that my mom had come to her house very upset and wanted her to bring me there. My dad and step mom said no, so my grandmother said that if she did not come back with me right then, then my mom would come and she was pissed. My dad had bolted the door shut, which by the way, he was always kind of paranoid, so there were about 9 deadbolts on the door… not the pansy kind you purchase today, but the real heavy-duty kind that a bomb couldn’t open.

My grandmother tried to open the door, but it would not budge and she kept asking my dad to open it but he wouldn’t. They just kept screaming at each other, so I finally yelled at the top of my lungs for them to BE QUIET! They became suddenly silent and looked at me. I looked at my dad and asked him nicely if he would please open the door and let me go. He began to argue a bit with my grandmother again, but succumbed to my wishes.

We left and went to my grandmother’s house. My mom said that she would NEVER let me come back on her dime again. So, I never did.

I will continue with the second story in my next post. Please subscribe to stay informed.
Part III

A Little More About Me

I thought that I would write a little more about my life history today. I was born in Southern California but I moved around a lot through the years. Both sides of my grandparents were in the air force, so my parents were somewhat BRATS. Those in the military understand that term, though I do not know the specific acronym of the term. They moved a lot. My mom has been in different countries, though I do not think that my dad has.

 

My grandparents on both sides divorced and so both of my parents came from split families. My dad was married before he met my mom and so was my mom. My dad had another daughter before me and my mom had a son before me. Both of my siblings were quite a bit older than I am.

 

I grew up around my brother but I did not have much contact with my sister. Something happened before me, that caused my sister to resent my dad and therefore resent me. I remember one time, my grandmother, took me to her apartment to try and get her to acknowledge me as her sister, but that did not turn out well. I was about 6 years old at the time.

 

I remember that my sister answered the door, it was night time, and she saw me and slammed the door shut. My grandmother knocked some more until she answered. My grandmother said that she would either see us or my grandmother would never speak to her again. So, my sister’s husband came out and made her let us in. It was awkward to say the least.

 

I was only 6 and I could feel the tension. She kept glaring at me and stating that she would never acknowledge me, while calling me names I should not have heard at that age.  Her children came out from their bedrooms, they were around 3 and under. They asked who I was and my grandmother told them, but my sister said it wasn’t true and for them to go back to bed. I felt so bad.

 

When we left, she said that my grandmother better never bring me around again or she would not forgive her.

 

Well, that was the last time that I saw her until my grandmother’s funeral when I was 13. That too was another awkward interaction. A man came up to me and said, “Oh, did you know that you had a sister?”  I was going to say yes, however, she turned right around and snapped back… she is my HALF sister, then turned back to the front and ignored me the rest of the funeral. The man looked at me with this odd face and just said… “Oh”.

 

Later that same day, at my dad’s house, her and her mother were there… I had gone inside to go to the bathroom, which I couldn’t find. I hadn’t visited my dad since I was 8 because he and my stepmother kidnapped me, so to speak… but that is another story.

 

So, I was going to find the bathroom, when I heard someone saying some really bad things about my mother, who was there with me. I looked back and saw my sister and her mother talking. Her mother called my mom a name and said I was the same, my sister told her to shhh. This surprised me, so I went out and stayed as close to my dad as possible because I knew that they would not say anything around him.

 

I told my mom what had happened much later when she couldn’t make a scene. Ah, the drama.

 

That was the very last time that I ever saw my sister. When my dad died, his sister called her to let her know, but apparently something had happened between the two dates (I was 19 at this time) so that she said that she didn’t have a dad and would not go to the funeral. She didn’t.

 

My aunt, my dad’s sister, would spend the next few days trying to convince me to get in contact with her because she was my sister, but she really didn’t know the extent of her feelings. I would ask others older than me what happened to make her so abusive, but no one would ever tell me.

 

The last I heard, she lived somewhere in Arizona, but that was years ago… so who knows now. I have heard some stories about her childhood from my mom and it wasn’t good. Her mom use to abuse her and my grandmother asked my mom and dad to adopt her from her mother… that she would pay for the legal fees, etc. But my mom said no because she believed that a child should remain with their mother. She thought also that if something happened between her and my dad, then she would end up having to raise her too and she couldn’t afford that.

 

Well, my parents split up when I was 3 ½ years old and we moved from California when I was 4. I would visit at my grandmother’s house because my mom didn’t trust my dad to remember to pick me up from the airport, etc. Well, when the incident happened when I was 8, my mom had to come out from Texas to get me and swore that my dad would never see me again. He only saw me once more, at my grandmother’s funeral. A car hit her but again, that is another story.

 

Well, this post is quite long, so I will post more info about my past later. Be sure to subscribe so you can follow the rest of the story.
Click here for Part II

Shape Visualizations To Help You Sleep

Cube 

 

Okay, this may sound odd to some, but sometimes when I am having a hard time getting to sleep at night… my husband walks me through some visualizations – and it works. Last night was one of those nights.

 

It all started one night about a week ago, when I just couldn’t go to sleep because I was feeling somewhat overwhelmed by life situations. I was trying to describe how I felt to him and it came out as images. I told him that I saw in my mind, a cube. This cube was very dark, cold and hard. The cube seemed to be made of a smooth metal that looked like Onyx. All around this cube was a light airy mist, which was cool – kind of like air conditioning. I told him that the cube represented the stress and pressure and the airy mist represented the peace I felt. He then walked me through looking at those images in a different way, which got my mind off of what was behind the images and made me relax enough to go to sleep.

 

So, last night, my thoughts were many and it wasn’t allowing me to get any sleep… so we thought to try this again. He told me to think of a large cube that was shiny, hovering just above the ground while spinning on its point. Well, that is about as far as I got. Sometimes I guess I just need something more focused to think about rather then the stresses of the day. It sure beats taking Ambien CR. The doctors put me on that when I lost my babies, to help me sleep… but it made me hallucinate, so I stopped taking it.

 

Sometimes, I have him read to me out of the Bible, but that gets me excited and puts me into study mode… so it is kind of counter-productive.

 Bible

 

In the past, when I couldn’t sleep… I would make my body really still and imagine relaxing myself from my toes up. I would take it really slow, imagining a massage because I was a massage therapist. I would normally be asleep by the time I got to my knees.

 

Someone once told me that if you have trouble sleeping, then to concentrate on keeping your tongue still. Apparently, when you are thinking deeply to the point of not being able to sleep, you move your tongue and if you can focus on keeping that still, one: you won’t be thinking about the other stuff and two: your tongue movement won’t keep you awake. It worked for a while.

 

Every night, I have to have music playing in the background with a fan blowing for white noise. If it is too quiet then I cannot sleep, but also, if I can hear things outside, I cannot sleep… go figure! In the wintertime, coyotes come around, even to our back fence and it bothers me… this is the first reason we started sleeping with a fan on. Sometimes they are so loud out there that even the fan doesn’t drown them out. I worry all the time about the little animals out there and I always pray for them and that God will keep the coyotes away… normally when I do, they go and if I don’t they seem to stay longer. The scary thing is that we have bobcats around here too. I have only seen one once, but our mayor has seen them around his house a few times.

 

 Bobcat

Coyote

 

Anyway, I just thought that I would share how shapes seem to help me sleep lately and if you are having trouble sleeping, you might want to try it. You have to really imagine them, the way they look, feel, whether they are solid or liquid, size, etc. It works for me, let me know if it works for you.

 

Sleep

Memorial Day Memories

This weekend is a holiday weekend to honor those who have fought for our freedom. My grandfather is one of those men. My grandfather’s name was Clarence Adam Cordell. He died on Jan. 4, 1964 at the age of 47, barely. (Dec. 10, 1917 – Jan. 4, 1964) S/SGT USAF

My grandfather was in the airforce and was stationed all over the world. He died in San Diego, California. He is laid to rest at the Fort Rosecrans National Cemetary in Plot: X 862, which overlooks the ocean. His plot is at the top of a hill near a cliff.

My husband and I lived in San Diego for about 2 1/2 years and it was then that I was able to go and see where my grandfather was buried. His grave site is in a great place with an absolutly beautiful view. I imagined what his funeral must have been like. My grandfather died way before I was born, so I never got to know him.

From the stories that I have heard, my grandfather was stationed at Roswell before the UFO “incident” and was relocated shortly before it happened. Oh, the stories I might have heard, had he stayed there. Hmmm…

Below are some pictures of the cemetery which can be found on Wikipedia.
 

 I wish I could include actual pictures of where he lies, but we moved before being able to go back to take pictures, so this is the best I can find. These pictures do not do it justice though.

I have another grandfather who served in the airforce as well, but I don’t have any information on him other than his name, Joseph Medina. I never knew him either because he died before I was born as well.

Sadly, I have heard that my grandpa Cordell may not have been a Christian, so I may never get to meet him… My other grandpa, grandpa Joe was a Christian, so I look forward to the day that I get to meet him.

Well, I wish that I had more to say about them, but I really don’t know very much. My grandpa Joe apparently had a building named after him at a Southern California college because he became a professor. Little tid-bits don’t exactly make a whole picture, just a puzzle.

 

 

Hillarious Video

I came across this joke a little while back and it made me laugh soooo hard, so I wanted to share it here. The comedian is Anjelah Johnson and she captures it perfectly. For anyone who has ever gotten this done, this video will bring back memories. Enjoy!