A Special Letter from the Jensen's

We have known Susan Washington for more than 8 years. We first met her when our children began playing sports together. Our son, Alex, was especially close to Susan’s son, Sammy. Sammy and Alex played together on a local Wylie football team for 5^th and 6^th graders. As we got to know Susan, we began reaching out to her, casually inviting her to church on occasions, but she always had ‘other plans ‘or work obligations.

Just after Christmas in 2004, we lost our 12-year-old son Alex in a tragic skiing accident while vacationing in Colorado. This was one of the most defining moments of our lives as a family. We quickly realized that the important aspects of Alex’s short 12 years of life here on earth boiled down to the people and relationships he had poured himself into. First, Alex had a relationship with God, and out of that he truly loved other people. And so we found ourselves doing the same thing. We got up each day, relied on our relationship with God, and poured our lives into others. It gave us meaning. It gave us life. We continued to reach out to Susan. Offering simple friendship was all we really had to give.

Over the following weeks and months after Alex’s death, we began to see a remarkable difference in Susan’s life. Previously Susan had been cold to the idea of sharing the deeper things of life, or even just going with us to church or a small group. Susan began opening up and sharing more and more with us as time progressed. Eventually, she opened up and shared how she had fallen into alcohol and drug abuse that led to her incarceration. We listened, offered her a hug, and loved her. It wasn’t until a few years later, when Susan began to share her story with others, that we fully understood the impact that our family had on her life.

Only after Susan began sharing her story publicly did we realize the weight of the pain that she had been carrying from her childhood. She shared with us that after Alex died, she was certain that our family would fall apart the same way her family fell apart when she was a child.

Susan’s story is one of tragedy, like so many others, but the incredible difference is how Susan changed the trajectory of her life into one with such a bright future. She’s still working through things in life, like all of us have to, but we are so proud of Susan and how she’s chosen to pursue a different course.

It’s been amazing to watch the transformation in Susan’s life. We are blessed that God used us in some small way. In the end, God did everything, but we are truly blessed that our lives and our story had an impact in her life along the way.

Susan’s story is one of powerful transformation and redemption. It will encourage you and give you hope that you can truly overcome life’s greatest struggles and tragedies. You can find purpose and meaning behind your past hurts and use them to help others and make the world a better place.

We love you Susan!

Dan & Kerri Jensen

Henri Nouwen reflected :“You don’t think your way into a new kind of living. You live your way into a new kind of thinking”.

Psalm 119 :

 ¹⁰⁵ Your word is a lamp to guide my feet
    and a light for my path.
¹⁰⁶ I’ve promised it once, and I’ll promise it again:
    I will obey your righteous regulations.
¹⁰⁷ I have suffered much, O Lord;
    restore my life again as you promised.
¹⁰⁸ Lord, accept my offering of praise,
    and teach me your regulations.
¹⁰⁹ My life constantly hangs in the balance,
    but I will not stop obeying your instructions.
¹¹⁰ The wicked have set their traps for me,
    but I will not turn from your commandments

Henri Nouwen reflected, “You don’t think your way into a new kind of living. You live your way into a new kind of thinking”.

And the way we live our way into a new kind of thinking is by being obedient to God’s instructions for our life and living out HIS WORD.

This really touched me and as I reflected on my life I found such truth in it. My thinking got so skewed when I was a drug addict and there was such insanity that it is terrifying to look back at who I was and how I was thinking. I was nuts!!

For instance toward the end of my run as a drug addict I quit drinking alcohol:  I basically quit drinking all liquids because that is what meth does to you. You get really dehydrated.  One day I was locked in my bathroom getting high and realized that I hadn’t drank any beer or alcohol in over a month. I got really excited and took another hit off my pipe smiling at myself with pride in the mirror thinking I wasn’t like my parents at all. My goal had been not to be like them in any way and I had achieved that goal or so I thought in the recesses of my altered mind :  I wasn’t an  alcoholic  who was passed out all the time !!!  I was really proud of this “accomplishment” as I smoked methamphetamine out of a glass pipe, locked in a bathroom, while neglecting my kids. It was INSANITY at its worst and I didn’t recognize that until I got arrested and they threw away the key for a year. It was very disturbing to see how “off” I was and didn’t even realize it. I was so blinded to the truth and I NEVER wanted that to happen again.

When I went to prison my goal was just to obey the rules whether I agreed with them or not.  “Just obey ,  don’t over think,  and don’t compromise!!!” was what I repeated to myself.   I couldn’t afford to do it my way anymore, doing it my way ended with me in prison. It was in prison that the motto for my life became “NO COMPROMISES” and I have tried to continue that since I have been out.  Even though I didn’t know God at that time, in his mercy and grace,  he gave me revelation into the dangers of making those small compromises that change who we are , what we believe, and how we think a little at a time .This happens at such a slow pace we aren’t even aware of the changes in place until we look in the mirror and don’t recognize who is looking back at us.  So with my best resolve I tried not to compromise in my morals, values, or the rules.

(Now there was a situation in prison where I did compromise but I weighed the consequences, thought it through and was willing to take the risk. If I got in trouble I would own it but the bottom line was I really wanted to help another inmate. There was a very sweet girl that had been locked up for about 10 years. She had no family, no commissary, and no outside support but she had a great attitude with a smile always on her face. The way she made money (and by that I mean someone bought her commissary) was by doing other inmates laundry (white t-shirts they had purchased). It was against rules to buy commissary for other inmates and if you did you could get a case and get in trouble.  She was awesome at this job, the clothes came out so brilliantly white I was totally amazed !!  : ))To be amazed at a white t- shirt in prison is saying something because that is all we wore: EVERYTHING WAS WHITE except our army green coats. She had perfected this skill. One of her best customers had paroled and she came and asked me if I needed any laundry done and I told her sure even though I didn’t really care about my t-shirts, I really  just wanted to help her out. She would do the laundry and I would buy her stuff when I went to commissary. It wasn’t much, mainly personal hygiene products and coffee. I would beg her to let me by her some candy or something fun and sometimes she would relent and say okay. The day I bought her a pint of bluebell  ice cream ( cookies and cream ) as a surprise is a day I will never forget . The look of excitement and gratitude made her always smiling face beam brighter. That was such a gift to me and I could have cared less if I got in trouble or not. Now I’m not sure if that was right because I did break the rules and therefore compromised  but I know I will never forget the smile on her face as she ate that ice cream and how it made my heart feel to help someone less fortunate than myself. As I said I thought about it and was willing to risk getting in trouble. I just wanted to be honest about my “No Compromise “ motto : ))) And honestly I still make compromises but I do try and always examine the motives of my heart and what I my true intentions are when I do. This is tough stuff !!!)

Today as I read Henri Nouwen’s reflection I realized that has come true in my life: “ I have lived my way into a new kind of thinking”  There are things I did 10 years ago that I wouldn’t even consider doing today and most of them were small things  ( now of course there were the huge things also but it is usually by compromising in the small gray areas that our thinking becomes distorted  and then compromising in the huge areas just doesn’t seem that bad)  that weren’t black and white , they were actions that fell into the gray areas (at least in my mind ) where it was easier to justify and rationalize the action ( for instance I had gone to the grocery store and bought a lot of groceries. I had put a case of diet cokes on the bottom of the cart and the clerk did not charge me for them . When I unloaded my groceries and looked over my receipt I noticed the error and thought it was my lucky day because I got a free case of cokes. I didn’t once think about returning to pay for them because “it wasn’t my fault” “ the clerk should have paid more attention” etc. Today I would go back immediately to pay , I would not entertain any thoughts of any other action. So I have lived my way into a new way of thinking because His word is now a lamp to my feet and I know if I make the smallest compromise in my morals or values that come from HIS word I have cracked the window to my soul giving the enemy a chance to trap me again. Now I sin everyday but my struggles have changed over the last decade because of the way I have lived and the way I now think. I think it is called sanctification; he is peeling back the layers and working on me a little at a time.

The insanity of addiction

 I went to a Leadership Conference last weekend called GRG which stands for Growth Resourcing Group and it was very powerful. God spoke to me about many things and I am still  in the process about all of it. Through all of this some memories surfaced that I had not really remembered or at least had not  thought about in a long time even as I was writing my book . It was somewhat surprising that I didn't recall these incidents because they were insane and so very dangerous. Maybe God waited until I was ready to see the magnitude of this craziness and how if not by his grace I could easily be dead or have gotten in a lot more trouble. My life was spinning out of control at such a fast pace I'm surprised I didn't literally crash and burn which I came very close to doing.  From May 26- July 18 there were a chain of events that almost destroyed me. I will just share one but the others will be in my book :)

I shared the other day on my Facebook page with my friends about what had happened on Sunday May 26, 2002 when I got a paraphernalia ticket in Lindale Texas. That event and my reaction to this warning ( I didn’t change a thing and just kept using) was the beginning of a chain of events that were crazy and insane ending with me being locked up on July 18,2002. Actually I had forgotten the details of this craziness until now. The next brick in my window was on June 5, 2002. It was a Wednesday evening and I decided to go get some more drugs from this girl that I had met and was now my drug dealer. From my warped perspective she seemed to have it all together.   She worked full time for a lawyer and dealt drugs on the side. Again as I observed her life it gave me some sort of false hope that this kind of life could work: you can be a drug addict and function in the world. Of course I didn’t really know anything about her life. But when you are living in such desperation the lens in which you view your life becomes very skewed and you don’t see things for how they really are, you see them as what you want them to be.  Since I had relapsed I was trying to justify my use and BELIEVE that it was all going to be okay.  Addiction and Satan are so very cunning  and deceptive, luring you into their tragic trap!! Everything was just so warped, I am amazed when I think about my thought process at that time and how I didn’t recognize the insanity of it all !!!

Anyway I drove with a friend to her house in my dad’s Lexus, which of course I wasn’t supposed to drive. It was 10:00 at night and I got my drugs plus some stuff for my friend. This girl dealt everything: meth , coke, pills, pot ,etc. I can’t remember what I got but we left East Dallas around Ferguson and Gus Thomasson  and  decided to stop at a grocery store to get  some Cokes and Dr. Peppers. By this time it was about 10:30 and as we crossed over 635 I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the flashing lights. I can’t remember why they said they pulled us over and it must have been a somewhat legitimate reason: it wasn’t late, the tags were in my dad’s name , and it wasn’t suspicious for us to be in that part of town. The problem came when they took both of our licenses and ran them : we both came up as convicted felons  with drug charges. Then they came up with a reason to search the car. I had panicked as we got pulled over and when they went to the car to run our licenses  I began to eat the baggies of drugs. Like I said I don’t remember all of what I had but it was a lot of stuff. The meth was in a bag too big to swallow so I got stuck with that. We were arrested and charged with possession and taken to the Mesquite City Jail. I was so scared about what I had ingested thinking I could OD but I didn’t know what to do.  I was too frightened to fall asleep because I thought I might die, I guess I  really didn’t want to die. Somewhere buried deep within me there was still a ray of hope that I could reclaim my life. Thankfully I was not affected at all by these drugs I had swallowed. God was protecting me again.

My dad was irate because his car got impounded. At the time I didn’t know he was in such dire financial straits but his world was about implode on him as well ( it makes me so sad to know how anxious he must have been at that time and he never shared it. Actually he never shared any of his pain or worries. He just stuffed them down and pretended everything was fine. It makes my heart hurt to know his pain and how oblivious I was to it but I forgive my selfishness and will learn from it , that is all I can do. I was very sick at the time)

I spent the night in Mesquite then they moved me to Lew Sterrett in the morning. I kept calling my dad to beg him to bond me out but he wouldn’t take my calls. But finally as I was sitting in a holding cell waiting to go to my pod my name was called that I had made bond. Relief flood my body and I jumped up to leave. My friend who had some how been released on a PR bond came and picked me up. Walking out of Lew Sterrett into the sun on that hot June day was exhilarating, at the time that was the longest I had spent in jail. I was determined to get it together and quit using  because awful things kept happening to me and I hated being locked up.  But as so often happened back then my resolve wavered as the reality of my situation weighed upon me. I now had a new felony charge that I had to deal with and I had to hope and pray my probation officer wouldn’t find this out. Thankfully I didn’t get arrested in Rockwall . Living your life on the edge that way takes such a toll and the only tool I had to deal with the stresses of life were to get high, plus my dad was disgusted with me and let me know it on a regular basis. Again I had let him down. What I wanted and needed most from him was a hug and him telling me no matter what happened that he would love me but instead I got the silent treatment until he got drunk then he lashed out in anger telling me what a loser I was . It was strange but I almost welcomed the abuse because at least then he paid attention to me and I didn't feel invisible.  I was in such a sad , sad place for so very long. Thinking back to that desolate place makes me so much more thankful for where I am today, God is just so good but of course it took me awhile to figure that out and there was much more craziness in that month of June 2002 . The next being the worst of all. Ironically it happened on   Monday June 24, 2002 about the exact same time and in the exact same place  of the tragic bus crash that killed 5 from the Metro Church in Garland . The only difference is I was heading west on I-20 and the bus was heading east but we were in the same place. It was an awful awful day !!

David's Senior Ring - WWW '71- An AMAZING sign from God :)

It was in the spring of 2002 and I had graduated from rehab after spending six months there. I was living with my father in Chandler's Landing in Rockwall. One day the phone rang and a woman on the other end asked me if she could speak to Richard David DeFace ( that was my brother). I asked her if she meant Richard Hall DeFace ( my father) and she said no it is Richard David DeFace and he graduated from Woodrow Wilson in 1971. I was shocked and began to shake slightly. Grabbing for the nearest chair I  had to sit down, it took my breath away.

Not knowing what to say I decided to just tell the truth. " I am sorry ma’am but Richard David DeFace is deceased and has been since 1971"  She sighed and said she was so very sorry. The reason for her call was she had bought some furniture from an estate sale in Mabank, Texas and she found a senior ring from Woodrow Wilson 1971 with the initials RDD engraved inside. The ring was in one of the drawers of a desk she bought. She decided to research this ring to see if she could return it to the owner. After a lot of detective work and calls it was determined that the only Woodrow graduate of 1971 with the initials RDD was my brother. (By this point I was very emotional because she was so kind and I didn’t have anything that belonged David. As I have said to this day I can’t remember David in life, I only remember his death and the tragic events that followed.)

After determining the owner of the ring she set out to find him which was an easy task, there were not many Richard DeFace’s in the Dallas area or anywhere for that matter ( one time a facebook app said it would tell you how many people on facebook had your name, I put in DeFace and the answer was zero) We then talked , I cried and she said she would mail me the ring. I never told my dad because even in 2002 we did not acknowledge that David existed. I checked the mail each day hoping this was not a prank and about a week later a package arrived. It was David’s ring gold with a ruby stone and the letters RDD engraved inside.  I cherished it believing it was a sign from God, I wasn’t sure what it meant but it was so very special to me.

I wish I could say I still had that ring but I don’t. I relapsed and got locked up not long after this, my father got extremely ill and spent six months in the hospital. While he was there his home was foreclosed on and all the belongings were removed or stolen. I don’t know what happened to all of his stuff but the ring disappeared with everything else. There are many unanswered questions to this story: why was the ring in Mabank in the first place? where is it now? If I wouldn’t have relapsed I would probably still have that part of my brother but my hopes and prayers today are for God to bring memories of my brother to the surface of my mind that I can hold in my heart. The ring would be special but it is only a piece of metal, the memories I would cherish and hold in my heart forever.

( this was my dad's  house in Chandler's Landing. You can see the balcony that led from the gameroom. I had the ring hidden in the gameroom in a little box. I thought about asking the current owners if they happened to find a ring. I might do that :)) )

Dating violence : I was a victim and feel prompted to share

When I did the radio show with Dr. Gene Getz it was very emotional for me. When I listened to the show I broke down. I’m not sure why it had the effect that it did on me but hearing my story from someone else’s perspective touched a place deep in my heart.  As the week went on Dr. Getz kept referring to the abuse, neglect, and abandonment that happened to me.  ABUSE is a word I never associated with my childhood but the bottom line is I was abused. I had a dear friend from church that I consider my spiritual leader and have reached out to many times say “Susan, you were abused and what you experienced was extreme abuse! You need to realize that so you can move forward”  Those words caused me to pause when she said them and I wanted to argue that I wasn’t abused that it was because they were hurting so bad, that they didn’t hit me or anything. But I didn’t argue because I think I knew deep down inside that it was abuse and there are many scars from that abuse.  Those scars are now healed and as with my others scars will be a source of healing and hope for others I pray. With that being said I need to be open and transparent about some other abuse in my life.

The thought of abuse made me think back to a relationship that I was in that was very abusive. It is something I haven’t shared  with many because when I think back to it I have felt such shame thinking that it was my fault and that on some level I deserved it , just like on some level I felt I deserved the abuse from my parents. But it is time I speak out about this because I do believe it is an issue for teens and young adults especially girls and I believe many tolerate abuse because they feel unworthy. Statistics show that one in three teenagers has experienced violence in a dating relationship. That is huge. Dating violence crosses all racial, economic and social lines. Most victims are young women, who are also at greater risk for serious injury.  These statistics are staggering and I was one of them.

I have one dear friend that I go to advice for, we were never that close in school but because of Facebook we have really connected. God has blessed her with spiritual wisdom and He has blessed me with her friendship. She was a couple of years younger than me and she believes I should share this part of my story because it will help someone. I don’t want to hurt anyone  but this dear friend witnessed some of my abuse while we were in school, she saw him abuse me in the hall, I never knew that. After she witnessed this abuse, which was minor compared to what happened at other times, she was shocked I stayed with him. She saw me as popular and outgoing seeming to have it all and she wondered why I would let anyone treat me like that but after learning my story she said it all made sense. I was just living in a cycle of abuse thinking I deserved the pain and that I brought it on myself.

John and I got together in high school. After our first date we were an item. We had a lot of fun: )) John was the funniest guy I knew and would pull the craziest stunts. I was in awe of his humor and the things he would do.  We were just so silly together; it was great fun especially in the beginning. I don’t remember when the hitting began, I am somewhat surprised that I don’t remember the first time but at some point it became routine and part of our relationship. I just don’t know how. The neglect and abuse were becoming more extreme at home but I was never hit. My father was verbally abusive and mother just absent so it still surprises me on some level that I tolerated this. Although we had a lot of fun our relationship was comprised of a lot of drinking and I’m sure that played a huge factor in the abuse that took place.

One of the worst times happened when we were at a club (don’t ask me how we went to clubs in high school but we did , to be honest it was PT’s on Lawther off Northwest Highway (it wasn’t a strip club then)  We were with a lot of kids from school and John and I got into a fight and broke up. He began to make out with another girl in a booth and I decided to dance with a boy named Billy who had always had a crush on me. When we started dancing John came over and pushed Billy out of the way grabbed me and bit through my cheek. It was bad I was bleeding and people jumped up to separate us. Everyone there just chalked it up to alcohol but I knew different, this had happened before but never in front of people and he was always careful to hit me where the bruises would not be visible.  An older boy that I had in a class with me and his girlfriend gave me a ride home. By the time we left my face was swollen and bruised from the bite, the girl asked what on earth I would tell my parents. I just remember looking at her and saying I would be able to conceal it knowing that my parents would never notice because my dad didn’t live there and my mother was never awake. I only had to hide the bruises from my friends and people at school because no one at home would notice. I remember sitting back in the seat of her green cougar and gazing out the window absently brushing my fingers across my bite mark feeling such shame.

I can’t remember what would set off his anger but he would just explode. One time we were at the lake and he was driving my car and got so angry grabbing head with one hand and holding it in his lap then pummeling me with his fist. I tried so hard to get away but couldn’t and I was so scared he would really hurt me.  I finally grabbed my gear shift and threw the car in park which made him let go of me and slow down then I jumped out of the car and began to run for my life. He was very careful to only hit my head and not my face. I remember my head being so sore but there were no visible bruises.

He would always apologize and promise to never do it again proclaiming his love for me then he would make me laugh and I would forgive him believing that would be the last time. Maybe I was so desperate for love that I continued to take this abuse I don’t know.  John had some wonderful qualities but the bottom line is he abused me horribly.

As time went on the abuse got more violent and our relationship was nearing its end. We kept breaking up and getting back together. He was so terribly controlling that I was isolated from my friends and he even talked me out of trying out for cheerleader one year . Because of him I didn’t’ try out, I still can’t believe that. But things were bad and about to get worse. This next night was the night that ended it all.

We were broken up again (which was happening on a daily basis) so Peri, Patti, and I decided to go hang out at Woodrow Hill with our friends from Long. We had a great time and I ran into my old boyfriend Hal and I spent a lot of time talking to him. Before I knew it I looked around and Peri and Patti were gone and I had no ride. Hal offered to drive me home and we left. As we turned off of St. Francis to Van Pelt I decided to lie down in the seat and I asked Hal to tell me if he saw a red Firebird parked in front of my house. He said no but there was one down the street. I told him not to stop so we took a right on Dorrington then a right on Baumgarten and parked. Hal was very concerned because he could sense my anxiety and asked me if I was scared of this guy. I wiped a tear from my eye and said no that I just didn’t want there to be a scene telling him I would run between the houses and go in through the garage or the backyard. Hal didn’t want to let me go but I said I would be fine and jumped out of his car. I then ran up the alley between Van Pelt and Baumgarten. I got very close to St. Francis because I was so scared John would see me . Then I ran across Van Pelt until I got to my alley then ran down  to my house. I climbed my wooden fence and jumped into the back yard trying to keep my German Shepherd Carl from barking and whining. I could tell he was so concerned for me. I gave Carl a huge hug then went into the sliding glass door and sighed deeply knowing I was safe.  I locked  the door behind me and then went back to my bedroom and turned the light on.

I knew Peri and Patti were there because their car was out front. Peri was asleep in my bed , Patti was lying down in my childhood room, and mother was passed out. My mistake was turning my light on because after I did I heard a knock at the front door. I went to the door and John pleaded with me to come out and talk to him, I could tell he had been drinking and I continued to say no but somehow he got to me. I can’t remember what he said that touched my heart but he was in tears begging me to just give him a moment and to be honest I still cared for him so much.  I opened the door slightly and he pounced. He reached in and grabbed my arm pulling me outside and down the steps with one arm. Behind his back he was holding a crow bar or a tire tool, the thing you use to change a tire. He threw me on the ground and hit me with the “crowbar” I began to crawl away and he kicked me over and hit me in the face with the tool.  I immediately felt the blood begin to flow raising my arms to shield my face. I couldn’t get up because he kept hitting me but I began to scamper away like a frightened animal and crawled between mine and the Griffith’s house. I prayed they would see me out the window but it didn’t appear as if anyone was awake. I can still feel the wet grass beneath my clothes and taste the blood from my busted lip and cheek. He was out of control and for the first time I was literally scared for my life and crying hysterically begging him to stop hoping someone, anyone would hear me.

At that moment Patti came running out of the house in her cute denim overalls with the spirit stick I had from cheerleading camp during junior high in her hand. Although genuinely thankful for her attempted rescue my first thought was couldn’t she have found a better weapon?  I mean a spirit stick is a small wooden dowel painted red, white, and blue. I was thinking of the Civil War sword that stood at my fireplace as well as the old musket which was displayed beside it but it was not a time to be critical, she was my saving grace. I am so thankful for Patti and the spirit stick because it provided me comic relief in this horribly tragic situation.  I was on the ground trying to avoid the blows, John was standing holding the crow bar and swinging at me and Patti was behind John trying to hit him with the spirit stick. The only problem is she kept missing him; she would raise the spirit stick with both hands and come down and COMPLETELY miss John then almost fall down. By this point I was laughing through the tears and blood. Patti then ran into the house screaming “Mrs. DeFace, Mrs. DeFace, you have to get up John is outside beating up Susan” Something about that made him stop, he grabbed his tool and ran to his car and left. Patti ran outside to help me get up and my mother staggered to the door still drunk not sure what was going on. My father was at the lake. Mother went back to bed and Patti and I began to tend to my wounds . Somehow Peri slept through it all. That was the last beating I received from John and the worst. Not long after that night an older boy who was a varsity offensive lineman and very large told John to never bother me again and he didn’t. It was the end to our relationship.

That was really my only abusive relationship, my marriage got abusive but that was the drugs and at the very end. Although alcohol played a huge part in John’s abuse it was different. For some reason at that time I didn’t believe that I deserved better. I didn’t believe that I was worthy.  At the time I was surprised I tolerated that because of who I was : popular, outgoing, “ the cheerleader” but that was who I wanted people to believe I was. During high school our self image is so very fragile. I have talked to many friends who were in abusive relationships also and they were from loving stable families so as the statistics say dating abuse crosses all lines and does not discriminate.  Looking back it was typical that I would tolerate that abuse, my family life was disintegrating and I felt I deserved it. I didn’t know how to set boundaries and my father who should have been my protector at that age left me with my alcoholic mother to tend to. It is not surprising at all that I tolerated that abuse. Just so thankful it ended without a severe injury.

When I wrote a little post after Hal’s death last week and what he meant to me I didn’t share this one night because I don’t want to hurt anyone not even John. That was really the last night that I spent much time with Hal and I will never forget the concern in his eyes which showed how much he still cared for me, his eighth grade girlfriend. The one regret I had was that I didn’t let him walk me to my door, he would have protected me I know and he was a tough guy.  I don’t think he ever knew what happened.

John’s  abuse was a fact and a lot of people knew about it to some extent but didn’t realize how bad it was and of course Patti witnessed  and thankfully rescued me from the most brutal beating of all. That picture will be forever stamped on my mind: Beautiful, gorgeous Patti wielding a spirit stick in my defense , while lacking coordination which only brought a little humor to this tragic situation and for that I am eternally grateful. Patti and I still laugh hysterically about that night that seemed to foreshadow the tragic events that were yet to come. It’s a little bittersweet but so thankful to have Patti still in my life 30 + years later : ))