At Seventeen

There aren’t many birthdays I remember in detail but my 17th is engraved in my memory. Each time I read this part of my story I am brought to tears because of the tragedy of it all. I believe God was protecting me against the harsh reality of what my normal had become: living alone with my mother whose alcoholism had become so debilitating we had reversed roles with me taking care of her, it had become quite overwhelming. I was a 17 year old child feeling so alone in the world, trying to make the best of a situation that did not make sense to me. Hoping each day I would come home to the mother I had before David died, although the memory of that person was fading fast.

Those hopes were dashed each day as I opened the door and went through the house calling her name only to find her passed out on the floor somewhere. After the initial disappointment I would take a deep breath shutting my eyes and hope and pray she was alive . I would then gather my courage and bend down to check her pulse and breathing sighing with relief when I knew she wasn’t dead.

My expectations were high on my 17th birthday and I truly believed it might be different that day. Maybe my mother would be sober to celebrate my birthday and hopefully my dad would come home to see me too. I was so excited at the thought that my parents might be there for me, I had been feeling so alone for a very long time. Maybe today would be different.

After arriving home from school I hurriedly went into the house looking for my mother. With a childlike faith and expectancy, I hoped she would be standing there to greet me but as I called her name there was no response.  She was most always passed out by this point but I never knew where I would find her. This day she was on the floor outside of the master bathroom. Walking into the powder room of the bath I bent down to see if I could hear her breathing and to check her pulse. Knowing she was “okay” I went to kitchen as the phone began to ring. It was my dad calling to say that he wouldn’t be coming home again because he was too busy and would be staying at the lake. He had not been home in a  long time. He didn’t even remember it was my birthday. Sadly I hung up the phone and went into the den.  My spirits were somewhat lifted as I saw birthday presents stacked on the old stereo, I guess mother did that before her drinking began that day. Not sure what to do because I knew she was out for the night and my dad wouldn’t be coming home, I decided to open my presents.

I sat on the blue rug in the den and began to celebrate my 17^th birthday by myself. That year I received three gifts that I remember: a beautiful light blue sweater that I had seen at Sanger Harris, pants to go with it, and a One Step Camera (this was the return of the Polaroid and very popular at the time). I was so excited about the camera that I opened it quickly to start taking pictures.

Not one to really read instructions, I loaded it with film and took a picture of our Christmas tree. As the camera spat out the photo, there was nothing on it so I took another. This continued to happen until I used the whole roll of film, each photo as blank as the next. I thought the camera didn’t work so I went to my room to try on my sweater. Excitedly I ran through the powder room, leaping over my mother’s passed out body, so I could go into her room and use the full length mirror. The sweater was as pretty as I thought it would be as I smiled at myself in the mirror.  When I returned to the den to see about my camera there were 20 pictures of our Christmas tree!!!  I laughed realizing it took awhile for the photographs to develop.

The story of the camera was so funny to me I decided shared it with someone. There was a boy in my chemistry class at school that I had this huge crush on. He was a year older than I, a star football player, and the most popular boy at school. That class was so fun for me and he and I laughed all the time. So the next day I told him the story about the camera. As I got to the part of the 20 pictures of the Christmas tree, I looked into his eyes expecting to see laughter but all I saw was sadness and sorrow. He touched my arm gently and said, “You mean you opened your birthday presents all by yourself? Susan that is the saddest thing I have ever heard.”

I can’t remember how I responded but I knew I had let my guard down and opened a window into my tragic life that I didn’t want revealed. From then on I was much more careful. I did not want anyone feeling sorry for me, especially him. I wanted him to see me as cute, funny, and outgoing, not the way I truly felt: alone, abandoned, unloved, and obviously  so deeply damaged that I didn’t matter to anyone. Another wall went up and I didn’t let my guard down again.

Thinking back to that day has brought upon a wave a sadness and it isn’t because I was alone and my parents had let me down again. What has made me sad in the past is that I was truly happy after the initial disappointment and had fun, and for some reason I found that tragic.

To be honest I was happy most the time, I hear that quite often from people who knew me then,  one girl  from school wrote me  and said “you were always be-bopping down the hall with a smile on your face and a jump to your step,I was somewhat jealous of your joy.”  And I did feel joy much of the time and I think that is because for some reason God protected my heart:) when I was in rehab my counselor smiled at me one time and said “You have such a child like quality” even though I was over 40 and one of the oldest in the rehab. He said I was full of hope, love, kindness, gentleness and forgiveness. I believe that child like quality was a gift from God who was protecting my heart through the pain. I now recognize those as the fruit of the Spirit. His spirit was with me always. To be honest I just came to this realization as I have been writing and the wave of sadness was washed away replaced by thankfulness for the joy I was able to experience through some very tragic circumstances. Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life. (Proverbs 4:23 NLT)

Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven.  Therefore whoever humbles himself as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 18:3, 4 NKJV)

²² But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³ gentleness, self-control. (Galatians 5:22)

Memories on Van Pelt

Yesterday I talked about the amazing journey God is taking me on as I revisit these places of darkness from my past. There is one place that I hope to revisit and that is the home I grew up in on Van Pelt. I went through the house a few years back. It was really a God thing :) I had gone to have lunch with Barbara Robertson Key and as I parked my car and got out Tad Denton’s mom and the owner of my old house were walking by . Barbara stepped out of her home and greeted them. As I meet the lady, I can’t remember her name, who lived in my house tears filled my eyes and I began to shake somewhat. 

That house, and I call it a house because I just don’t remember it as a home, brings back so many sad and painful memories. I always think of it as the house of death. There were times I would drive by it and I would feel so afraid as if it were filled with evil. I had built this up so much in my head I knew I had to face the fear but I just didn’t know how. The opportunity presented itself that day. As I cried softly the sweet lady asked me if I would like to go through my old home and without really realizing it I slowly nodded yes. As we walked across the street the painful memories started to bombard my mind from David’s death and shutting off his room as if he never existed to finding mother’s lifeless body after I graduated. Feeling somewhat overwhelmed I took a deep breath to try and relax. I’m not sure what this lady thought of my emotional response but I didn’t want her to know all that had happened there. We walked through the gate into the back yard and I remembered my trampoline that I spent hours jumping on , I was fearless then as I would flip and spin in the air as if I didn’t have a care in the world. As we walked up to the back patio I vaguely remembered the graduation party my parents had for my sister with a Hawaiian theme and the porch was decorated with lanterns, those were just flashes and I am not even sure if they are real memories. 

We went into the master bedroom through a door that I had forgotten about. As I stepped into the house memories began to flood my mind. This was my parents bedroom and although it was completely redecorated I saw it as it was when I was growing up . I could picture the dresser with two mirrors ( one for my dad and one for my mom) then the tall dresser by the closet. The bed was king size with a headboard to match the rest of the set . I relaxed a bit because this wasn’t too bad but then I remembered when mother started the fire and ruined her mattress because she was so drunk . The picture of her trying to make a bed without a mattress, tripping over the frame and not even realizing there was no bed broke my heart again.. I kind of shook my head and moved on.

The next room was Kathey’s room but became mine when she went to college. Again I could picture it perfectly with my cream colored furniture and my black light on the wall , posters tacked to the sheetrock that lit up when my room was dark . My megaphones and pompons from both Long and Skyline proudly arranged by my door . As I looked at the closet I remembered my Mark Spitz poster with his 7 gold medals in that bathing suit and smiled slightly. I could picture my television set and stereo / record player where I would play Kathey’s old albums . The one I remembered most was Herman Hermits “ Mrs. Brown You’ve Got A Lovely Daughter” for some reason that memory made me sad. I guess it reminded me of the lonliness I felt so often while growing up. 

Moving on I walked through the Jack and Jill bathroom with the triangle bathtub. Laughing I remembered spending hours in there with m y friends cracking the window up high and smoking cigarettes as we talked about our lives , dreams, and teenage angst. These memories brought a smile to my face and that was so very nice.. The Jack and Jill bathroom connected to my childhood room and those memories started off pleasant as I remembered the princess furniture , the baby dolls, Little Kiddles, and all the stuffed animals I collected.

The one I remembered most was a huge elephant that sat in the corner and I would arrange all the other animals around it. I was overcome with sadness as I thought of the that because in a way that toy elephant represented “ the elephant in the room “ that defined my life. All the problems and risks that went on in that home that no one wanted to discuss and the obvious truths that went unaddressed. Shutting my eyes I braced myself for the hardest memory of all. This was the room where I found my mother’s body after telling her I hated her and wished she were dead. I reminded myself I was not responsible for her death but I was ready to move one.

Walking across the hall I went into what was David’s room. That room was off limits for so very long . Maybe my parents believed if they shut the doors they could pretend he never existed and therefore never took his life in that room . I don’t have many memories of it because I wasn’t allowed to go in there. But I had one memory surface while in rehab and I don’t even know if it was real : David killed himself on the 4th of July 1971 in that room with my father’s gun. When we got home and went into the house I remember being so confused and not understanding what was happening to my world. My memory is that I opened the forbidden door quickly just to see in there, maybe David was there. I just had to open that door and look but when I did it was empty and all I saw were traces of blood that had been missed after the room was cleaned by whoever cleaned it. Like I said I don’t even know if that memory is real. It surfaced while in rehab . I guess I will never know if I just dreamed it or imagined it or if it really happened but the release of emotion that came from it was cathartic none the less.

We left David’s room and entered the powder room that connected to the master bath , this is where my mother usually was passed out . The cabinets in that room is where she would “ hide “ her vodka. I remember the first time I found cups of vodka stashed in cabinets throughout the house but mainly in that room. Maybe she hid it there because it was her room with her pretty stool and built in make up mirror where she would get ready and keep all her toiletries before she felt so hopeless and didn’t care anymore.

Next we walked down the hall into the sunken den that was a pretty cool feature to our home . Again the memories were of sadness: sitting on the floor watching “ All My Children” waiting for my dad to come home after finding my mother’s body. It was just so hard being alone at that time . Tears started to form and I was almost overcome just wanting some good memories to surface , there had to be some good memories in that house but if there are they are buried so deep………………………………………….. That is why I think I need to revisit that place if possible because there was so much darkness there and at the time I went through the house I was in a good place but not where I am today. I think if I walked through it today I would remember some good times, I just know it. That is on my list and the very nice lady told me I could come back anytime so maybe I will contact Barbara and revisit that house again. I know there is victory and light waiting for me but I have to face the fear and push through.

God has been faithful

Joel :25 The LORD says, “I will give you back what you lost."

This scripture has brought me such encouragement and God has been faithful, as he always is. He has restored so many things that I had lost and I am so thankful for that. This is especially true where relationships are concerned. My relationships with my children are in such a good place now. My son Sammy said to me one time “Mom I can’t even imagine you on drugs, it is like that was a different person. Please keep sharing your story because you are really helping people. I am so proud of you” Hailey with her sweet nature texted me one time and told me “Mom , I just want you to know that I always knew you loved me even when you did drugs. I never felt alone and abandoned like you did when I was growing up. It breaks my heart that you were hurt so badly” and my relationship with Alexis grows stronger every day, she just has more difficulty verbalizing her feelings but she has a heart of gold. This is the work of God.

He gave my children back to me , their hearts could have been hardened by what I put them through but God protected them and our relationships have been restored and reconciled. The most amazing relationship that God restored to me was with my father. There had been so much damage and in the fall of 2010 I was about to give up. My dad was so very critical of me and it just hurt. I would go see him in the nursing home throughout the years and he would say things like “Why did you let yourself go like that, you are so fat” and “Why are you wearing those glasses , you look awful”. I got to the point where I would just leave but the pain was deep. All I wanted from my dad was his love and acceptance and it just seemed as if that was not part of His plan for my life. After awhile the pain turned to anger and I made the decision not to go see him anymore. I didn’t deserve that treatment and I didn’t have to tolerate it so my visits became less frequent. I felt somewhat empowered by the boundary I had set but the pain was still so raw when I would think of how he treated me throughout my life. I decided to seek help and went to counseling.

This worked so much better than doing drugs as I had done in the past to deal with my pain : ) After a few sessions we decided to have someone sit in as my dad and I would tell him the things I felt he should apologize to me for. I spent a week making my list but was somewhat skeptical that I could pretend this man from church was my dad. The morning of the session I was nervous and just hoped and prayed healing would come from this because I needed healing in this area desperately. As we sat down and prayed it was as if the floodgates were opened and I unloaded, crying uncontrollably. It was just the most gut wrenching experience I can remember and when it was done I knew healing had taken place. The man who sat in as my dad was crying also and he said the Lord revealed to him that my Dad resented my strength because I stayed in that house and took care of my mother when he abandoned us.

He knew he should have been strong for me but he wasn’t, so he would lash out at me because of his guilt and find fault in everything about me. Wow, what a revelation!!! I had always seen my dad as so strong but after that session I was able to look at him through the eyes of God and see the hurt, pain, and guilt that had consumed his life since David’s suicide.. My anger was replaced with compassion and I could love him from the depths of my heart because I had truly FORGIVEN him. Leaving the session I went straight to the nursing home and walked into his room. He said “Hi, where have you been? I haven’t seen you in awhile?” I apologized and said I was sorry that I had just been so busy, but I would visit him regularly from now on. I then walked over to his bed and hugged him tightly telling him I loved him. He stiffened slightly as he always did when I tried to hug him, and said nothing. I sighed deeply, then pulled up a chair and just sat with my dad - accepting him for who he was and knowing he did the best he could.

My dad died on December 13th, 2010, exactly a year ago. And I was with him as he took his last breath . I had fallen asleep with my head on the side of his hospital bed and was startled awake with a dream about my mother. Looking at my dad I could tell his breathing had slowed and was very shallow. I stood up and kissed his forehead and began to recite Psalm 23 . Tears were flowing but I continued to speak God’s word with my cheek against his cheek, and then he was gone. The nurse called for a doctor to come announce the time of death and I just sat with my Daddy so very thankful that God had intervened and healed our relationship.

Small Compromises

I love Casting Crowns and was listening to Slow Fade earlier, It made me think about my life ………………. The lines below are so true 

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray 
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day

God speaks to me in many different ways: sometimes He prompts me with a thought, other times he speaks to me through other people, and sometimes he reminds me of my past and shows me how it is significant with the present which is significant to my future. He did this specifically by answering a question that I had asked while in prison . It was quite a powerful moment teaching me an amazing lesson that I will never forget. Let’s go back to Novemeber 14 , 2002 when I pulled chain ( prison lingo for leaving county) to go to prison. I had been in Rockwall County since July 18 and was so scared about going to TDC hoping I might be able to do my time in Rockwall. But at three in the morning on November 14th a guard came to my cell , told me to pack my things that I was pulling chain. After arriving at Woodman, the diagnostic unit for women, I was put in a dorm with about 100 women from all over Texas. As I walked to my bunk it was almost surreal and seemed like a dream, well more like a nightmare. The first few nights I was there I would wake up in the middle of the night startled and confused about where I was then it would all come back………………………… Sitting up and looking across the dorm at all the inmates I would ask , to no one in particular, “how on earth did I end up here, where did it go so terribly wrong ?” My question was never answered………………………………......................................................
Fast forward to September 2005 when I was working at Dickey’s BBQ. I began working at Dickey’s in 2004 as a cashier and had been promoted to manager by 2005. My responsibilities were to count the cash drawers and close down the store each evening . I was very proud about my promotion and that the owners trusted me in spite of my criminal background. My life was finally getting back on track, it had been such a long, long road……………………. One evening a man came through the drive through and placed an order, after he arrived home he called because we had made a mistake. I told him I would deliver him the correct order and wrote down his address. Before we hung up he asked the cost of a turkey sandwich then ordered one for me to bring also. 

As I was getting his order ready I decided just to give him the sandwich since we had made a mistake. Minutes later I drove to his house . After I rang the doorbell he came to the door holding a dog that was barking incessantly and there were small children running around in the background and coming towards the door. It was a very chaotic situation . He only cracked the door so no one could escape. I handed him his food and he handed me a 5 dollar bill then shut the door. I almost knocked again to give him back the money because I wanted to give him the sandwich but because of the chaos I decided not to bother him and I walked to my car holding that 5 dollar bill.

As I began to drive away a battle was waged in my mind about the money. Remember it was only 5 dollars . My first thoughts were “keep the money, you deserve it, it can be your tip, you drove your own car over there and used your own gas “ to “he did not intend to tip you, if you want to keep the money you should call Bill (the owner) and tell him the situation, go back and give the money back to the customer and see what he does”. These types of thoughts played back and forth in my mind until I was exhausted . I was basically trying to justify STEALING that money. As I pulled into the restaurant I put the 5 dollar bill in my back pocket and decided to think about the situation later but GOD would not let me rest. It was really slow at the restaurant so I went to the To Go section and leaned against the counter. 

As I looked around the restaurant a memory from prison surfaced in my mind, those first nights that I spent in Woodman when I would wake up confused about where I was and ask myself “How on earth did I end up here ? Where did it go so terribly wrong?” My question was going to finally be answered.

God spoke clearly then and said it was situations like this that got you to prison. Small compromises in seemingly innocent situations that are not black and white. He showed me if I kept the money next time I wouldn’t think twice about it. . He showed me how I went from a girl who did not, would not do drugs to becoming a full blown drug addict by making small compromises. It was a terrifying vision but so clear to me. Once we start moving our boundaries a little at a time we aren’t even aware of the changes in place and then one day we wake up an our morals and values have been completely compromised.

Immediately I ran to the cash register and rang up the turkey sandwich putting the 5 dollars in the drawer. It was such a powerful experience and really showed me that the little things are very important. Song of Solomon 2:15 (GOD’S WORD Translation) 15 Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that ruin vineyards. Our vineyards are blooming. It is a slow fade when we self destruct, so beware of those small foxes in your life wherever they may be. !!!

God's Fingerprints

The days leading up to July 18 are a blur; as I stayed gone most of the time because I was scared I would be arrested at my dad’s house. My kids who had been living with me were back with their other grandparents since my downward spiral. Thank God for that. Most my time was spent in and around Kilgore because, believe it or not, many of the people I was using with were people I met in rehab. My car got stolen by some drug people and I couldn’t get it back. The girl I loaned the car to hit me in the face because I kept asking about my car,  I cried and didn’t ask her about it anymoe :)  Crazy things kept happening and everything was out of control. Finally someone loaned me some money and I took a Greyhound bus to Terrell and then got a ride to Rockwall.

When I walked into my dad’s house I could tell he was very ill. He was smoking continuously and drinking heavily. He had a horrible cough and I was very concerned. He refused to go the doctor but by Wed. July 17 I knew he needed to go to the hospital. My probation was the next day and I didn’t know what would happen  and I literally feared for his life. We got into the car and drove to Lakepointe and went to the emergency room.  They quickly admitted him to begin a battery of tests , he was just so weak and I was so scared.

On Thursday July 18 I woke up and got ready for probation, hoping for the best. Thank God it never occurred to me not to go, that would have just added to my problems. Before the appointment I stopped by the hospital to see my dad, all we knew at that point was he had pneumonia and  was very ill. Leaning over I kissed him on his forehead and told him I hoped to see him later. Slowly I drove to the Community Supervision Corrections Department. It seemed like eternity as I waited in the lobby to be called by my officer but she finally opened the door and called me in. Where before she had been friendly and supportive now she had a no nonsense attitude and seemed angry. She asked me what happened ( with my relapse and new charge) and I didn’t know what to say. Struggling for words I tried to speak, but nothing came out. To be honest it was for the best because I would have only lied and nothing was going to make a difference. Overcome with shame, I just kept looking at my hands not able to face her or look in her eyes.

Seconds later the door opened and two Sheriffs’ deputies entered the room and arrested me. After I got to the jail I learned that because it was a revocation I had no bond. There was no way I was going to get out. The morning of July 18^th were my last moments of freedom for over a year. Crying hysterically I was put into a cell. .

My first few days were spent crying. Girls in the cell would suggest that I call someone but there was no one to call since my dad was in the hospital. I was alone. After being locked up about a week and frantic for news about my father I finally got a visit from my dad’s neighbor, things were much worse than I imagined. I learned my dad had A LOT of financial problems. His Lexus had been repossessed and his house was been foreclosed upon. These proceedings had been going on for awhile, I guess the stress of  that situation is why he was drinking so heavily and  so mean to me.  The worst news was how sick he was; they weren’t sure he was going to make it.

There was nothing I could do, I was totally powerless sitting in a jail cell. Talking to my dad wasn’t even a possibility because you could only make collect calls.  My greatest fear was that he was going to die and if that happened I knew I would feel responsible.. I already felt responsible for mother’s death and so guilty that I wasn’t a better sister to Kathey . I didn’t think I could handle another burden.   It was just awful and I felt so terribly alone but I have since learned that I was not alone. God was with me the whole time protecting me, knowing I was strong but there were some things I might not be equipped to handle. My eyes and heart were just not opened to see him at the time.

My dad ended being hospitalized for about 8 months and lost his house, cars, and all his possessions. To this day I don’t know what happened to all his stuff, they even took all of our family keepsakes that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. The thought of that still makes me sick. Whoever packed up the house took most everything. So in essence by dad was now homeless and completely broke although he was still in the hospital. This is where God blessed me because if I wasn’t sitting in that jail cell I would have been homeless and completely broke also and I don’t know if I could have survived that. I was not in relationship with ANYONE so there was no one to reach out to. I can’t imagine what that would have looked like but I know it would not have been pretty. My addiction stole so much from me and the bottom I hit was very hard but up until the day I was arrested I still had the ability to pay for my drugs  and I had a place to live. That was about to change.

The phrase “I wasn’t there YET ” was used in rehab a lot. Addiction takes many people to some very low places doing things that thought they would never do. Many girls I ministered to in prison sold their bodies for their drug habit and were living on the street. They would ask me if I ever had to do that and I would reply “no I wasn’t there YET ” with love and no judgment. There but for the grace of God, go I.

 Through God’s grace I was put in that jail cell and then sent to prison. He prompted me to take my dad to the hospital the day before I was arrested ,I was told he would have died if we had waited any longer  . I am not nor have I ever been street smart so I don’t know if I could have survived being homeless because although I am strong I don’t think I am tough in that way. God gave me what I needed and I was blessed to be arrested at the perfect time, protecting me from myself and my addiction. It was all part of his plan for my life and looking back I can see the fingerprints of God.  I never would have thought I would thank God for being arrested but I do all the time.