I supposedly started this blog quite some time ago, posted one quote, and chickened out!
I was introduced to WordPress by my cousin, KQDuane, who has become a dear friend as I’ve followed her blog “It’s the Women, Not the Men”, over the past few years. We’ve come to know each other and built a trust that has freed us to share painful pasts. This I cherish as throughout my life I’ve experienced very few truly trusting, sacred relationships. I am aware that I must play a part in all this betrayal and confusion. I have worked very hard for the past 3 decades to discover my true self, yet my life experience has been such that at times I simply can’t believe that truth exists. I am even rarely quite certain that I am being honest with myself!
I am the middle child of 5, born in 1958 into a struggling working class family. My Father was a front line combat veteran of Korea and my Mother a brilliant, vibrant pianist and life enthusiast, my Dad was also quite bright and they were an exceptionally good looking couple. They were never quite a couple though, having done “the right thing” and married as soon as discovering their first pregnancy. My Mom, being a devout Catholic, must have followed her churches guidelines closely. She had 6 children in about 8 years (my youngest sister lived for only a few hours) in the days of cloth diapers, clothes lines, barely enough income to feed us, despite my Dad’s working his fingers to the bone, and the ethics and pride of all American families of the time. May you rest in peace, Mom and Dad, you sure earned it! I digress. I was exceptionally pretty as a youth, very bright and talented and instinctively (I think) rebellious. This brief history explains a lot.
Thanks to the Grace of God, who I feared, tried very hard to not believe, was greatly confused and felt as if I was among the damned (I used to “joke” that I must’ve killed a Pope in a past life, my karma was so bad!), Until I was introduced to recovery by the courts when I was 30, a hard core shaking alcoholic with a great love of all substances that could momentarily cloud reality, and having been alive 5 years longer than the life plan I’d developed semi-consciously, decided the food would be better in rehab than in jail. I had no intention of getting sober (I honestly did not believe that being alive was possible without being high on a regular basis, up until this time I’d never met anyone who lived sober.) Those 28 days, detoxing with no cloud under which to hide were terrifying, I was convinced I should’ve chosen a few years in prison, the prison in my mind was torture. I was initially scared to death of God and frustrated that I could not, not believe. It took many years, many wonderful patient people, many relapses, courage I did not know I was capable of, and diligent self assessment to come to believe that God was good, I was not damned and that God actually loved me unconditionally. Thanks to that grace, the long list of traumatic, deadly experience that will unfold to all of you as I continue to share in an attempt to encourage others to find peace in their hearts, the grace that took so long for me to understand (and there is plenty more work for me to do) that God put in my path, as He knows how defiant I can be and that it would take radical action to get my attention. Thanks to the grace of all of these things, I was blessed with having come to a place of peace, love and understanding with both of my parents before they passed on home to God. I don’t think I will ever find the words that describe the depth of gratitude I experienced as I sat with my Mom and all of my siblings after the Dr.’s finally allowed us to unplug my Dad. One by one they spued their hatred and rage prior to going home (they had better things to do than sit with him until he died). Every fiber of my being wanted to scream “SHUT UP”, yet I recalled having felt the same way and was able to be an ear for them, nothing short of miraculous. I simply replied quietly “I made peace with Daddy some years ago”. Seven hours and eleven minutes later he died with myself and one sister at his side. Thank you, Thank you God! My Mom’s death was quite different, but she trusted me as a confidant and caretaker, and I was out on disability and blessed with the time to be with her. Thank you, Thank you God!
I sincerely hope I have not bored any one with this introduction to me. My dear friend KQDuane encouraged me to start writing, as my journey through a hard life thus far, and the healing of my soul that I have achieved could be of great help to many people who are in the state I described above. I searched my soul and heart to be certain of my motivation. I am not seeking pity, or indulging in self pity, KQ showed me through what I had written to her, that I’d made peace, met God, and had an obligation to share my experience as there are so many injured, terrified souls out there that could possibly gain strength from my story.
My journey is far from over and my life is hard, but my gratitude is real. The God I have come to know loves me deeply, and I him. Without pain I cannot recognize joy, and without having been assaulted as much as you will hear in postings to come, I’d not have come to know God and peace. I can choose how I perceive life, and my new found faith gave me that.
Thank you for the ear, and I pray all human’s know peace for at least a few moments in their lives.
Sarah the 7th