just annie for someone special's blog: "just life..."

  My life, my kid's lifes, George, Gordon, and talking to a man of God...just wanting to find some answers before it was all gone.

     We fought for each damn thing we had. We were always scared, always moving, always striving to survive. I understood the unbelievable stress, and the depression. I was suffering more than any of us. But knowing what caused parents to act as they did in childhood does not make childhood better. It doesn't make it sweeter or pinker or more rainbowlike. The scars are still there, the hurts ongoing, those brittle, searing moments still raw. My kids will never forget or will forever push it down so far, that they can't relive it. You abandoned us. To this day, do you understand, to this day, I do not trust men. I do not trust relationships, I hardly trust myself. And don't you dare judge me. I hated it. It about killed me, but I did it because we didn't have money for food or rent or medical bills. That's what you did to me, and we were only touching on a few surface problems at that time. I took a deep breath. I felt my tears, wrapped up in a tight ball in my throat, expand and grow. I did what I had to do. I was backed in a corner, and I was fighting for four kids, all on my own.

     Forgiveness. Could I? Could I get rid of the perpetual, incessant anger that had lived within me for a decade? Could I forgive him?

     When I found you, Gordon, again after so long, I was stunned by the expression I heard in your voice: gratefulness, happiness, wonder. And the most important emotion, love. I heard it. I felt it. I felt that love. I had missed that love more than I would have missed my own heart.

     I think loss makes people angry. And fear. It's a psycho emotional shake-up that gets us out of balance with the universe. But since we are so attuned to one another, when I die, will you? Or vice versa? Probably not. But it wouldn't feel good.

     "What's on your heart?" I started out slow then the words flew out faster, and I held my head, hiccupping along with my tears. I don't think I'm good enough for God. "All of us are good enough for God. Every one of us. He made us, he created us. He has a plan for us. And you, Annie, are a gift to everyone who knows you. God's gift." God's gift has sinned so much. I have hated my mother. I have run from my family... "Your family, your mom, is complex, the relationships often difficult, made more difficult by circumstance. God gave you this family so you could take what you've learned and help others." I think I've broken near to all the commandments, except I haven't killed anyone. "And beyond those broken commandments you will find God's grace and mercy." I left God. "He never left you, Annie. Never. Not for a minute." I walked away from him. "He stayed with you on your walk." I have sinned a million times. "And beyond those sins you have God's love. You always did. His love is infinite. It is eternal. You are a child of God, dear Annie. Don't let your past regrets and guilt and the memories of who you USED to be ruin one more minute of your present or your future. It's done. Go on knowing you're forgiven. Walk with God, Annie. He's put out his hand to you many, many times. All you have to do is put your hand out to him."

     I see the star shine. I see the moonbeams. You know how to go to heaven? You got to get on a sun ray or a moonbeam. That's the way up. In my dream Jesus said I'd come to him soon. What do you do when someones' dying and they talk about dying? Deny it? Dismiss it and miss out on an honest conversation the dying person needs to have? Offer up hope of a miracle when there is none coming?

     I knew what friendship was all about, I knew what it took to be a friend. I learned what kindness and selflessness looked like. I learned how one kind word, from one person, can change the day, maybe even the life, of someone else.

     I learned to be. Be there. Be in the moment. Be in life.