My granddaughters wanted to color some pictures for their great-nanny and send them to her expressing their love and prayers for her. I ask them not to seal the envelope, for Grammy was going to enclose a little something for my Mama too. Here's what I wrote.
Sweetest Memories Of You
When you would run your fingers through my hair as I laid on your lap
When you knew I felt scared and would let me sit by you in the car, the restaurant, at church or wherever we were.
When I would come and sit at your feet when you were cried, I would rub lotion on your feet to help you feel not so sad.
When you would let me help you change the sheets each week, and help you make the beds, so much learning to be had.
Teaching me to peel potatoes while in the kitchen at my side.
The first time I didn't cry when you washed my hair in the kitchen sink at the age of four,and you announced it to Daddy when he walked through the door on 9th Avenue.
When we sneaked away in the car, while everyone was napping, to go get burgers and fries at the drive-in restaurant, just you and me.
As a teenager calling you while you were in Chattanooga taking care of your mother, my Nanny, I was feeling so frightened, but hung up after hearing your voice filled with peace.
The morning I had P.M.S. in Junior High, and after driving us to school, you just turned the car around without saying a word and took me back home to rest. You just knew...
For the unconditional love you always showed me, and the safety I felt when I was around you.
I love you Mama
Janie
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Where Have All The Flowers Gone?
I am one that some mornings I wake up with a song in my head. Well, the song, "Where Have All The Flowers Gone," was one that wouldn't let me go.
I went to my you tube site to listen to Peter, Paul & Mary and posted a couple of songs that I have fond memories of as a 16 year old back in the late 60's. As I listened to the words to the song, the line, "Oh When Will They Ever Learn" and "Long Time Passing" stuck out for me.
I haven't posted a blog in quite a few weeks. Maybe this is due to finding out the news of my mother's diagnoses of lung cancer. My brain has been stuck on this news, and trying my best to digest this and process through it.
My mind has of course been on yearning for Spring and Summer. Elizabeth and Phil always have their tradition of planting their flowers each spring, so my eyes are focused on the snow beginning to melt away from the sidewalk revealing the ground, promising me that I will not be seeing snow forever and I will soon be viewing our flowers.
Then you've got the flowers thing going on in my head. Most of the years I was married to a man who would always be abusive, and then follow up with apologies, cards and flowers. That is called the "wheel", or the "cycle of abuse." I finally told him I hated flowers and cards, they meant nothing to me! And I meant every word of I said.
We see flowers given for some many occasions, such as gifts to your new found love, anniversary's, Valentine's Day, and let's not forget funerals. There have been times in the last few years I've just bought them for myself, indicating I was over that stage of hating flowers and what they represented to me, and I was going to enjoy them as long as I could.
These flowers never live long, although we do our best to keep them alive as long as possible. We cut away the ends of the stems, we add the little packet of "stuff" to the water, but they eventually die.
Oh when will they ever learn? Long time passing. We are a little like flowers. Each beautiful in it's own way. But, let us enjoy this time of beauty with the ones we love and accept the fact that we will not live forever. I don't believe this is a morbid thought, but just a reminder to not take those who cross our paths and our dearest ones for granted. Stop and smell the beautiful aroma they produce, enjoy the vibrant colors! These are all gifts from God to us. Let us be grateful for the time they are with us.
I went to my you tube site to listen to Peter, Paul & Mary and posted a couple of songs that I have fond memories of as a 16 year old back in the late 60's. As I listened to the words to the song, the line, "Oh When Will They Ever Learn" and "Long Time Passing" stuck out for me.
I haven't posted a blog in quite a few weeks. Maybe this is due to finding out the news of my mother's diagnoses of lung cancer. My brain has been stuck on this news, and trying my best to digest this and process through it.
My mind has of course been on yearning for Spring and Summer. Elizabeth and Phil always have their tradition of planting their flowers each spring, so my eyes are focused on the snow beginning to melt away from the sidewalk revealing the ground, promising me that I will not be seeing snow forever and I will soon be viewing our flowers.
Then you've got the flowers thing going on in my head. Most of the years I was married to a man who would always be abusive, and then follow up with apologies, cards and flowers. That is called the "wheel", or the "cycle of abuse." I finally told him I hated flowers and cards, they meant nothing to me! And I meant every word of I said.
We see flowers given for some many occasions, such as gifts to your new found love, anniversary's, Valentine's Day, and let's not forget funerals. There have been times in the last few years I've just bought them for myself, indicating I was over that stage of hating flowers and what they represented to me, and I was going to enjoy them as long as I could.
These flowers never live long, although we do our best to keep them alive as long as possible. We cut away the ends of the stems, we add the little packet of "stuff" to the water, but they eventually die.
Oh when will they ever learn? Long time passing. We are a little like flowers. Each beautiful in it's own way. But, let us enjoy this time of beauty with the ones we love and accept the fact that we will not live forever. I don't believe this is a morbid thought, but just a reminder to not take those who cross our paths and our dearest ones for granted. Stop and smell the beautiful aroma they produce, enjoy the vibrant colors! These are all gifts from God to us. Let us be grateful for the time they are with us.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
All Girls Are A Little Princess
I love watching movies with my granddaughters. My favorites are "The Little Princess", "The Secret Garden", and, of course "Anne of Green Gables."
Monday and Tuesday was "The Little Princess." Yes, Tuesday we watched it again per Grammy's request. There were things in this movie I needed to grab a hold of. All of these things were wrapped up in the main character Sara Crew. Even though she was from a very affluent family and had grown up in India, she was so loving, she showed so much compassion for others, she adored her father, she stood up for her beliefs, she was very determined, loved telling magical story tells that she had learned from India, She seemed to triumph over very difficult obstacles in life..the death of her mother during childbirth and her stories helped her deal with her grief.
As a result of her father, Captain Crew having to go to war, she is sent off to a Boarding School. She makes friends with the other girls by telling her elaborate fairy tells. Some of the children are very jealous of her and not comfortable with her at all.
Her life changes immediately when the news comes that her father still in India is presumed dead. From that point on, the head mistress, Miss Minchin, goes from doting on her to sending her to the servants quarters to earn her right to live their as an orphan and now assume the role as a servant to the other girls. This is where she meets the other child maid, Becky and befriends her.
Through the observations of the mysterious man from India, he does what he can to restore Sara's happiness. There is one magical scene when they are looking through their windows across from each other and make such a spiritual connection! It gave me chills as Sara whirlled around in circles for him. It must have been some sort of Indians ritual, I'm not really sure.
Good ending to the movie. Her dad has been staying at the home where this mysterious man from India lives and takes care of the owner who owns the school. Her father has been brought back to live in this home and has lost his memory, but regains it once Sara makes her way over to their house and sees her father alive and he finally recognizes her after she screams out, "Papa, Papa, Papa!"
Hope. Even through all of Sara's adversity and pain. God was with her all the time, just as he is with you and me. And I am God's little princess.
Monday and Tuesday was "The Little Princess." Yes, Tuesday we watched it again per Grammy's request. There were things in this movie I needed to grab a hold of. All of these things were wrapped up in the main character Sara Crew. Even though she was from a very affluent family and had grown up in India, she was so loving, she showed so much compassion for others, she adored her father, she stood up for her beliefs, she was very determined, loved telling magical story tells that she had learned from India, She seemed to triumph over very difficult obstacles in life..the death of her mother during childbirth and her stories helped her deal with her grief.
As a result of her father, Captain Crew having to go to war, she is sent off to a Boarding School. She makes friends with the other girls by telling her elaborate fairy tells. Some of the children are very jealous of her and not comfortable with her at all.
Her life changes immediately when the news comes that her father still in India is presumed dead. From that point on, the head mistress, Miss Minchin, goes from doting on her to sending her to the servants quarters to earn her right to live their as an orphan and now assume the role as a servant to the other girls. This is where she meets the other child maid, Becky and befriends her.
Through the observations of the mysterious man from India, he does what he can to restore Sara's happiness. There is one magical scene when they are looking through their windows across from each other and make such a spiritual connection! It gave me chills as Sara whirlled around in circles for him. It must have been some sort of Indians ritual, I'm not really sure.
Good ending to the movie. Her dad has been staying at the home where this mysterious man from India lives and takes care of the owner who owns the school. Her father has been brought back to live in this home and has lost his memory, but regains it once Sara makes her way over to their house and sees her father alive and he finally recognizes her after she screams out, "Papa, Papa, Papa!"
Hope. Even through all of Sara's adversity and pain. God was with her all the time, just as he is with you and me. And I am God's little princess.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
My Ladybug
A few of my face book friends know how I am about my cardinals God has shown me over and over as a sign of hope from Him, and now that I haven't seen any cardinals here in St. James, I've seen two eagles! Just at that right time, if you know what I mean. I love how God does that for me. It's just one of those things you know in your heart that it's no less than a miracle.
As I got up early this Sunday morning and went to my bathroom, I saw a ladybug sitting in my sink! I've always loved ladybugs, not knowing much background information on this insect, but another one of those God signs across the years I've experienced.
I began to ponder why did this ladybug, in the cold of winter land in my bathroom sink. So, I did some research on the ladybug and this is what I found:
WHY ARE LADYBUGS LUCKY?
Many cultures view ladybugs as lucky (which I don't believe in "luck.") The most likely explanation for the general view is that the ladybugs are lucky is their dietary habits. Ladybugs eat harmful crop pests (which I already knew), so the appearance of ladybugs would have been welcomed by farmers and gardeners. The appearance of a ladybug would also have been viewed as a blessing, which explains the positive association with ladybug's in many cultures.
In some Christian societies, especially in Europe, the ladybug is linked with the Virgin Mary. According to legend, the spots on the ladybug's back symbolize the seven sorrows of Mary, and ladybugs were sent by the Virgin to protect the crops.
I'm grateful today I saw my ladybug that God sent my way.
As I got up early this Sunday morning and went to my bathroom, I saw a ladybug sitting in my sink! I've always loved ladybugs, not knowing much background information on this insect, but another one of those God signs across the years I've experienced.
I began to ponder why did this ladybug, in the cold of winter land in my bathroom sink. So, I did some research on the ladybug and this is what I found:
WHY ARE LADYBUGS LUCKY?
Many cultures view ladybugs as lucky (which I don't believe in "luck.") The most likely explanation for the general view is that the ladybugs are lucky is their dietary habits. Ladybugs eat harmful crop pests (which I already knew), so the appearance of ladybugs would have been welcomed by farmers and gardeners. The appearance of a ladybug would also have been viewed as a blessing, which explains the positive association with ladybug's in many cultures.
In some Christian societies, especially in Europe, the ladybug is linked with the Virgin Mary. According to legend, the spots on the ladybug's back symbolize the seven sorrows of Mary, and ladybugs were sent by the Virgin to protect the crops.
I'm grateful today I saw my ladybug that God sent my way.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Choosing Our Team
I began to have these thoughts a week ago concerning my past elementary years of recess time, which were nice, long recesses unlike today in school. Plenty of time for fun, play and getting outside in the fresh air with friends.
I used to love to play hopscotch and jump rope. That was during those first through third grade years. Those would have been my sweetest memories. At that time I was attending Fairview Elementary in Rossville, GA.
My father was a principal at Rossville Elementary School. For some reason, which was never discussed with us children, we transferred to the school my Father was principal of. I remember my self-esteem going down, down, down at that point. I can't really pinpoint why, other than just having my Father there at all times to keep his critical eye on my sister and me, and perhaps come by at any moment to pull my hair or grab the skin on my arm and pinch me....for no reason. I was the "good child" in the family. Perhaps too good in light of becoming invisible. That was a safe place for me, always keeping to myself and not saying anything to ignite my Father's rage. Of course I found out that I didn't have to do anything and his cruelty was shown to me. That's all in the past, and I am now dealing with those memories in a healthy way with God's help in the healing process.
Back to my original thought and memory. My twin sister and I would always gather with our friends on the playground and engage in games of softball or kickball. Of course you had to begin with setting up your teams. My twin sister was either always selected first, seeing that she was the athletic one. She was an asset to the team. I on the other hand would be near the end of the choices being made, unless, my sister was the designated one to do the choosing, and then she would take pity on me and choose me right off the bat! I must admit it felt good to be chosen first, but also I knew she was doing it out of loyalty and perhaps sympathy for her twin sister. Either way, I was picked for the team. Thanks Sister.
This thought led me to other thoughts. I am making the choices now. I choose Janie to be on my team. Not only that, but God chooses Janie to be on His team. And guess what??? There are so many people that choose me to be on their team, to be their friends! I am valued and loved by God and by these loving people he has placed in my life. I love it! There are those that are choosing me and not only that, they are rooting for me! I love the definition of this word: "To noisily applaud or encourage a contestant or team. To wish the success of or lend support to someone or something."
A big thank you to all of those who are rooting me on!
I used to love to play hopscotch and jump rope. That was during those first through third grade years. Those would have been my sweetest memories. At that time I was attending Fairview Elementary in Rossville, GA.
My father was a principal at Rossville Elementary School. For some reason, which was never discussed with us children, we transferred to the school my Father was principal of. I remember my self-esteem going down, down, down at that point. I can't really pinpoint why, other than just having my Father there at all times to keep his critical eye on my sister and me, and perhaps come by at any moment to pull my hair or grab the skin on my arm and pinch me....for no reason. I was the "good child" in the family. Perhaps too good in light of becoming invisible. That was a safe place for me, always keeping to myself and not saying anything to ignite my Father's rage. Of course I found out that I didn't have to do anything and his cruelty was shown to me. That's all in the past, and I am now dealing with those memories in a healthy way with God's help in the healing process.
Back to my original thought and memory. My twin sister and I would always gather with our friends on the playground and engage in games of softball or kickball. Of course you had to begin with setting up your teams. My twin sister was either always selected first, seeing that she was the athletic one. She was an asset to the team. I on the other hand would be near the end of the choices being made, unless, my sister was the designated one to do the choosing, and then she would take pity on me and choose me right off the bat! I must admit it felt good to be chosen first, but also I knew she was doing it out of loyalty and perhaps sympathy for her twin sister. Either way, I was picked for the team. Thanks Sister.
This thought led me to other thoughts. I am making the choices now. I choose Janie to be on my team. Not only that, but God chooses Janie to be on His team. And guess what??? There are so many people that choose me to be on their team, to be their friends! I am valued and loved by God and by these loving people he has placed in my life. I love it! There are those that are choosing me and not only that, they are rooting for me! I love the definition of this word: "To noisily applaud or encourage a contestant or team. To wish the success of or lend support to someone or something."
A big thank you to all of those who are rooting me on!
Monday, February 15, 2010
Where Have I Been?
I just completed working my fourth step in my "Gentle Path Through The 12 Steps." The last page was for a time of reflection on the fourth step. I've been stuck there. This step wants me to record my reactions to facing my own loneliness. I know I must complete this part, but something has been holding me back.
At the top of the page there is a writing from Henry Nouwen/Reaching Out, that I have used on occasion on facebook. "The difficult road is the road of conversion, the conversion from loneliness into solitude. Instead of running away from our loneliness and trying to forget or deny it, we have to protect it and return it into a fruitful solitude. To live a spiritual life, we must first find the courage, but also a strong faith. As hard as it is to believe that the dry, desolate desert can yield endless varieties of flowers, it is equally hard to imagine that our loneliness is hiding unknown beauty. The movement from loneliness to solitude, however, is the beginning of any spiritual life because it is the movement from the restless senses to the restful spirit, from the outward-reaching cravings to the inward-reaching search, from the fearful clinging to the fearless play."
This was Valentine's weekend as we all know. The kids have gone out of town and I was here "alone." I must say, it wasn't an easy weekend for me, and I admit to NOT enjoying the "solitude" but just allowed myself to feel the loneliness.
These feelings of loneliness have been clinging to me like a grave cloth these last couple of weeks. I do believe there has been some things surfacing in me, or that need to be surfaced in me that I'm not allowing to take place. So, for me the best place to begin is to ask God to reveal those things to me, just in layers please and thank you....like peeling the layers off an onion...one at a time.
To be perfectly honest I have been frightened of posting anything but "happy thoughts or feelings" which have not been at the forefront. And THEN, I discovered "justbereal" blog sight, and I so enjoyed her candor about her journey and writing about it so honestly. We all have our stories to tell about our paths and the process of healing of our past. I think I went to at least five or six of her past blogs and commented on every one of them! I could relate to everything she wrote about! It somehow helped me for the moment.
So, to end this on a positive note, I am so grateful for all the bloggers I have been privileged to take a peek into their lives. I love it when we can take each others hand and walk along our paths together in this journey of life. And yes, I still need to finish this final page on my fourth step in facing my loneliness.
At the top of the page there is a writing from Henry Nouwen/Reaching Out, that I have used on occasion on facebook. "The difficult road is the road of conversion, the conversion from loneliness into solitude. Instead of running away from our loneliness and trying to forget or deny it, we have to protect it and return it into a fruitful solitude. To live a spiritual life, we must first find the courage, but also a strong faith. As hard as it is to believe that the dry, desolate desert can yield endless varieties of flowers, it is equally hard to imagine that our loneliness is hiding unknown beauty. The movement from loneliness to solitude, however, is the beginning of any spiritual life because it is the movement from the restless senses to the restful spirit, from the outward-reaching cravings to the inward-reaching search, from the fearful clinging to the fearless play."
This was Valentine's weekend as we all know. The kids have gone out of town and I was here "alone." I must say, it wasn't an easy weekend for me, and I admit to NOT enjoying the "solitude" but just allowed myself to feel the loneliness.
These feelings of loneliness have been clinging to me like a grave cloth these last couple of weeks. I do believe there has been some things surfacing in me, or that need to be surfaced in me that I'm not allowing to take place. So, for me the best place to begin is to ask God to reveal those things to me, just in layers please and thank you....like peeling the layers off an onion...one at a time.
To be perfectly honest I have been frightened of posting anything but "happy thoughts or feelings" which have not been at the forefront. And THEN, I discovered "justbereal" blog sight, and I so enjoyed her candor about her journey and writing about it so honestly. We all have our stories to tell about our paths and the process of healing of our past. I think I went to at least five or six of her past blogs and commented on every one of them! I could relate to everything she wrote about! It somehow helped me for the moment.
So, to end this on a positive note, I am so grateful for all the bloggers I have been privileged to take a peek into their lives. I love it when we can take each others hand and walk along our paths together in this journey of life. And yes, I still need to finish this final page on my fourth step in facing my loneliness.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Keeping The Light On
I woke up this morning feeling rather peaceful in light of yesterday's happenings with my youngest daughter Hannah and her boyfriend/father of my BEAUTIFUL grandson Shannon.
Yesterday my day started off with five phone calls while I was working at the Animal shelter from Hannah. She was crying very hard, so hard I could barely understand what she was saying. I began to ask her all the questions a mother would ask; "what's wrong sweetie?" "Are you okay?" Her answer was "NO, I'm not okay Mama." She then began to give me Her story (and there's always a story) that the electricity was about to be cut off that day and could I wire her $100.00. I had just gotten paid that day, which I didn't tell her, and could have sent her the money, but I remember the past promises of paying me back and never seeing the money. So, I decided to play the "tough love" thing and tell her I just didn't have the money to wire her right now. There are reasons for this.
I am a part time employee on a minimum pay scale, court fees to pay, car insurance I just got reinstated to pay, monies I pay to Liz and Phil every payday etc. etc. However, the co-dependent mom I was over a year ago in Atlanta would have given her the money I'm sure and never expect her to pay me back. The money she has always asked for in the past was never for what she said she was asking it for. It was usually for drugs or alcohol. The last straw for me is when I gave her my debit card while living in Atlanta to go and buy the baby juice, diapers, cereal, all that stuff my little Shannon needed. I found out in just a few days while making some purchases using my debit card, there was no money in my checking account. And at that time there was over a $1,000. Hard lesson for me to learn. I have this problem...I always want to believe that she is telling me the truth. Plant stupid on this girl's forehead!
She then preceded to call my daughter Liz and pose the same request to her. Liz gave her the same reply mixed in with empathy for the dilemma she was in.Hannah hung up on her in the midst of the conversation. This second denial of money resulted in more phone calls and leaving nasty voice mails on Liz's cell phone. I MEAN NASTY! We both then got phone calls from her boyfriend telling us to NEVER call their number again. Keep in mind this boyfriend has never had a job in the 7 years I have known him, and he is 32 years old!
Liz also spoke to the boyfriends grandmother who stays in touch with us, and she confirmed everything we already knew.
Their behavior and choices are affecting little Shannon also. I will not go into all of that, but just imagine two bi-polar parents on a methadone treatment plan for 7 years, on drugs alcohol, constant raging going on, and the toxic environment that my wee one has to live under. In light of this, Liz who is now angry, concerned for Shannon, decides she is going to get in touch with Children Services, the school or who ever she can to report what is taking place in this house they live in.
As we sit and have our family meeting after dinner last night Phil and I allow Liz to rant and rave, get those angry feelings out of her and then I responded.
I reminded Liz of when my oldest son was into the drug scene, had his two suicide attempts, I read a book on the "Hurting Parent." My thinking was that this would be a book that would have sympathy for us hurting parents being tormented by our children. It wasn't. It was about showing God's love even in the midst of the nightmare you were living with. I'm not certain if it was in this book or another, but I remember reading somewhere that "you should always keep the light on." For me that meant I had to draw some lines with both of these children during those nightmarish times, but find ways to SHOW love to them. With Kris, my oldest, he loved my homemade biscuits. So, when he would come home after days of partying, I would bake for him. He didn't want to hear any words from me. I was his enemy. But I could keep that light on my demonstrating acts of love. At this time as you might know he hasn't spoken to me in over a year. But, I'm still keeping that light on for when he does come around. For Hannah, she always had a problem of sleeping alone. She would love to come and crawl under the covers with me and we would sleep wrapped in each others arms. I would lie there and just smell of her..keeping my light on and taking whatever I could get from her.
I suggested to Liz for us to all pray about the situation and just "sit on it" over the weekend. She did calm down and agreed to that.
My last phone call from Hannah last night was to tell me to never call her again, she was removing me from her life. I responded to her, "Well, Hannah, that is your decision, I love you." I've got to keep that light on in the window for when she returns to me again.
Yesterday my day started off with five phone calls while I was working at the Animal shelter from Hannah. She was crying very hard, so hard I could barely understand what she was saying. I began to ask her all the questions a mother would ask; "what's wrong sweetie?" "Are you okay?" Her answer was "NO, I'm not okay Mama." She then began to give me Her story (and there's always a story) that the electricity was about to be cut off that day and could I wire her $100.00. I had just gotten paid that day, which I didn't tell her, and could have sent her the money, but I remember the past promises of paying me back and never seeing the money. So, I decided to play the "tough love" thing and tell her I just didn't have the money to wire her right now. There are reasons for this.
I am a part time employee on a minimum pay scale, court fees to pay, car insurance I just got reinstated to pay, monies I pay to Liz and Phil every payday etc. etc. However, the co-dependent mom I was over a year ago in Atlanta would have given her the money I'm sure and never expect her to pay me back. The money she has always asked for in the past was never for what she said she was asking it for. It was usually for drugs or alcohol. The last straw for me is when I gave her my debit card while living in Atlanta to go and buy the baby juice, diapers, cereal, all that stuff my little Shannon needed. I found out in just a few days while making some purchases using my debit card, there was no money in my checking account. And at that time there was over a $1,000. Hard lesson for me to learn. I have this problem...I always want to believe that she is telling me the truth. Plant stupid on this girl's forehead!
She then preceded to call my daughter Liz and pose the same request to her. Liz gave her the same reply mixed in with empathy for the dilemma she was in.Hannah hung up on her in the midst of the conversation. This second denial of money resulted in more phone calls and leaving nasty voice mails on Liz's cell phone. I MEAN NASTY! We both then got phone calls from her boyfriend telling us to NEVER call their number again. Keep in mind this boyfriend has never had a job in the 7 years I have known him, and he is 32 years old!
Liz also spoke to the boyfriends grandmother who stays in touch with us, and she confirmed everything we already knew.
Their behavior and choices are affecting little Shannon also. I will not go into all of that, but just imagine two bi-polar parents on a methadone treatment plan for 7 years, on drugs alcohol, constant raging going on, and the toxic environment that my wee one has to live under. In light of this, Liz who is now angry, concerned for Shannon, decides she is going to get in touch with Children Services, the school or who ever she can to report what is taking place in this house they live in.
As we sit and have our family meeting after dinner last night Phil and I allow Liz to rant and rave, get those angry feelings out of her and then I responded.
I reminded Liz of when my oldest son was into the drug scene, had his two suicide attempts, I read a book on the "Hurting Parent." My thinking was that this would be a book that would have sympathy for us hurting parents being tormented by our children. It wasn't. It was about showing God's love even in the midst of the nightmare you were living with. I'm not certain if it was in this book or another, but I remember reading somewhere that "you should always keep the light on." For me that meant I had to draw some lines with both of these children during those nightmarish times, but find ways to SHOW love to them. With Kris, my oldest, he loved my homemade biscuits. So, when he would come home after days of partying, I would bake for him. He didn't want to hear any words from me. I was his enemy. But I could keep that light on my demonstrating acts of love. At this time as you might know he hasn't spoken to me in over a year. But, I'm still keeping that light on for when he does come around. For Hannah, she always had a problem of sleeping alone. She would love to come and crawl under the covers with me and we would sleep wrapped in each others arms. I would lie there and just smell of her..keeping my light on and taking whatever I could get from her.
I suggested to Liz for us to all pray about the situation and just "sit on it" over the weekend. She did calm down and agreed to that.
My last phone call from Hannah last night was to tell me to never call her again, she was removing me from her life. I responded to her, "Well, Hannah, that is your decision, I love you." I've got to keep that light on in the window for when she returns to me again.
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