Breaking the Belt of Abuse

A few years back, my oldest daughter gave up her legal rights to her children. Handing them over to her ex-husband and his new wife. I, being their grandmother was devastated and could not believe my daughter could have been so cold and selfish. She was actually their hero, and they may never know that!

My daughter did what she felt was best for them, and she broke the cycle of child abuse in our family, thank God!

I had never wanted to raise my kids the way my mother had raised me. Mom was good at instilling important values in us, and I was able to teach those to my children, as well, but, Mom also used a tremendous amount of negative reinforcement in the raising of me and my siblings. She only repeated how she'd been raised by her father. From all the stories I've heard about Grandpa over the years, he was horribly physically and mentally abusive to my mother. She was the oldest of six children. He made her responsible for everything they did, meaning that if they misbehaved or did any kind of damage, she was the one who bore the welts from the belt or green tree switch. He blamed her for everything that was wrong in his life, his marriage and the family. Mom's never gotten over that, and she did pass that along to me, her eldest child.

There were times when Mom beat me and my sister so badly that we bled, and my sister actually came down with a fever from infection from the open wounds. Mom blamed me for any dirt left on the floors or dishes. She blamed me for her own illnesses. When she went into the hospital one time, I went to visit her and before the doctor had the chance to tell her that the swelling on her body and the hives she had was from an allergy to a particular medication she'd been taking, she chose to scream at me in front of my boyfriend, telling me that "I" was the reason she was in the hospital. That "I" had caused her to become so ill, and "I" almost killed her because "I" would not do as I was told, etc. I left the hospital in tears and humiliated. What could I possibly have done to cause her to almost die? Of course, I felt vindicated when Dad told us that it was simply an allergy to her medications, but she never apologized to me for that, and to this day, she says she doesn't recall telling me that. Well, I never forgot.

These kinds of mental abuse, coupled with physical abuse scar the mind to a degree that we never get over it and we tend to pass it on to our children. The only thing I did do right in raising my children was teaching them that they were individuals with minds of their own. That their opinions counted and that they could do anything they set their minds to do. I wanted them to grow up to be independent successful young adults, and by God, they did! But, unfortunately, yes, I was just as abusive to my oldest daughter in the first few "formative" years as my mother had been to me. When I realized what was happening, it was far too late for her. I didn't continue the abuse with the subsequent children because I knew it was wrong to do so. Yet, I still didn't treat my oldest the way I should have even after I realized my mistake, but it was because I'd damaged her psyche too much already and she was acting out against me. I had to defend myself, and she had to defend herself. It was a constant battle, even into her adult years, and I'm ashamed.

So, when she and her husband got divorced, and he demanded full custody and legal rights to the kids, my daughter didn't fight him. She made a hard decision, but she saved her children from a life such as her own.

My grandchildren were brought up in a loving home with a loving and supportive family around them. I missed them, of course, but she was right to do what she did. She thought of them first. She knew she didn't have the proper parenting skills, even though, I believe she was doing quite well from what I could see and they loved her so very much, but only she knows her own mind, and she knows what she was capable of. She also knew she didn't have the resources to give them the kind of life they deserved, and she wasn't sure if she ever would have them, so she did what she felt was best for them at the time. She truly loved her children, and she still does. I still love her very much. I'm so sorry for how I raised her. I wish I'd been the kind of mother I'd always said I would be, but instead, I turned out to be just like my mother, who was just like her father, who was just like his mother, etc.

A Faire Love!

My one true love over the past four years has been the Renaissance Festival / Medieval Faire. I fell in love with it beginning in Muskogee, Oklahoma, where I resided for five years, but for one reason or another, I chose not to attend, until the last year I lived there.

I owned a Native American gift shop there, and one day a gentleman, wearing the most beautiful Apache style moccasin boots wandered into my shop to look for a Ribbon shirt for the Scottish Ceilidh, or Kaleigh? It was a party and dance being held at the Castle of Muskogee, where the faire was also being held. I inquired of him regarding his boots, as perhaps, I'd like to start carrying them in my store. He sent the gentleman to me who had made the boots, he and his partner invited me to the dance and the faire that weekend, and the rest became history! I attended the faire and fell madly in love with it, as I'd loved nothing before in my life. I'd attended Native American Powwows for over 20 years, and loved them, but even those did not make me fall madly in love.

There's something about the Renaissance Festival that just brings out a hidden part of oneself that perhaps, you didn't even know existed. Within one weekend at this faire, my entire life was changed, including my own name and identity! What magic spell had been forced upon me, unawares?

By the end of that week, I'd been given the name, "Jezebel", which quickly became "Jezzy". I was asked to work for someone at a faire in Ohio near Lake Eerie. Now, I had a store to run, but as I'd learned from doing a powwow one weekend and leaving my store in the care of even my very best friend, I could not trust anyone. So, I was faced with a dilemma. Stay and continue to operate my store, which did well, but wasn't really going where I'd hoped it would, or take a chance and accept this job offer. I'd decided to compromise. So, I called my shop landlord, told her I was closing for the summer, going on vacation to try my hand at this new experience and I'd be back to make my decision for the future.

It took only the first weekend at the Great Lakes Medieval Faire for me to decide that this was, indeed, what I wanted to do for the rest of my life! It was an easy choice for me, for some reason. By the third weekend, the people I'd come to love became so enamored of me, that they dubbed me, "Jezzy, their Pirate Queen"! I fit in with the vendors, with the entertainers, with the "playtrons"! I loved them, and they loved me just as much! So, I asked around for another "gig" at another faire, and was easily picked up to work a faire two weeks after this one was to end. I took those two weeks to go back to Oklahoma, close up my shop, put everything I owned into storage and trek quickly back to Ohio to work my second faire. I did this for a couple of years, just working two faires in Ohio, which was where my family lived, anyway, and a faire in North Carolina, until I was propositioned by another vendor to work full time, traveling from faire to faire. They offered me quite a lot of money and benefits, so I jumped on it! I got to work four faires in Florida, one in Tennessee and still work the two in Ohio and made plans to work in Pennsylvania, New York and Michigan, as well. Unfortunately, my mother's ill health forced me to make another hard decision, to continue working full time on the road, or give it up and stay closer to home. I chose, of course, to stay close to my mother.

The good thing about working the faires is that if you need to take time off, you can, and you can still go back to work when you're ready. It happened that while I was working at the Great Lakes Faire last year still for my full time boss, my mother had a heart attack and heart surgery. They understood that I needed to take time off from the faires to help her. Unfortunately, during this same time, I also injured my back pretty severely. So, after 7 months of much physical therapy and lots of meds, and being as my mom is in stable condition now, I decided I was ready to get back out there and do it again.

I just returned home from my very first weekend back out on the Faire circuit and I feel GREAT! I suffered through a great deal of pain, still, but I don't care, I know this is what I love to do and I will continue to do it until I'm actually physically unable to do so. It was wonderful to be working hard again, seeing my friends and tending to my loyal customers, who are just fabulous people! My heart was so happy and I'm full of joy now. I still have to take it easy to a point and I'm still on many drugs, but I can still do this job and as long as there is work to be done at the faires, I'm there! It is my chosen lifestyle, and until I die, I'm in Heaven on Earth at the Faires! Huzzah!

Be-Witched?

A long time ago, in a city far, far away, lived a young girl who had dreams, visions, and saw and heard spirits, aka ghosts. When the child inquired of her mother, who also had foretelling dreams, as to how this could be, she answered quite blythely, "Oh, I suppose it's because we're witches."

My mother doesn't recall that conversation now, as it's been forty-five years ago, and she is advanced in her years. She swears by all that is holy that she would never have said such a thing. Yet, she most certainly did.

I remember how startled I was to hear her reply, and from that time on, wondered at its possibility, or probability. You see, her own grandfather was a member of the Spiritualist Church, holding seances and probably reading tarot cards, and the like. I don't know for sure about the cards, but Mom did say he held seances. So, why is it, then, that she found me to be so "weird" and "strange" when I told her about the ghosts I heard and saw? If one member of our family had the "gift", then couldn't it have possibly been handed down through the genes?

Throughout my life, I've been accused of being a witch. Some said it simply because when they entered my house, they saw many candles about. I truly don't believe that qualifies me as a witch, seriously. But, there have been many other instances whereupon I've met complete strangers who have looked me in the eye and said, "Oh, you're one of those! You have the gift!" I laughed at them, thinking they were joking, but their expressions did not change. They continued to stare into my eyes, and insisted vehemently.

I must admit that my life has been full of unexplained phenomena, and spiritual happenings. I've had more prophetic dreams than I care to admit, and even had dreams of things that happened to other people, that I could NOT have known about, as I wasn't present, nor did I ever know these people! But as I would recant the dream to someone else who did know, without my knowledge, and they would be completely astonished and asked me how I could possibly know!

Could I call any of them coincidences? Well, of course, as some things do just happen, right?
But, there have been many, many events which could not be explained away so easily.

When I was a child, I played with my sister and the kids I babysat for, and learned that I could "read their minds"! It was truly eerie to them, but amazed me beyond belief. At first, to me, it became a fun game which I played as often as possible, just to freak people out. But, from that time, on, I've honed a skill, which has shown me more than what people have on their minds! I've actually visualized, or seen what they were doing at any given time, which is NOT always a blessing. It did help me to confirm a suspicion once, that my husband was cheating on me. When he came home and I described to him the situation in detail, which had just taken place that very afternoon on his lunch break, his face went pale and he nearly fell out of his chair! He was seriously afraid of me from that point until we separated. Unfortunately, it was because of the heartache that I felt from that experience, that I ceased attempting it any further.

However, using basically this same technique in my work in the spiritual realm has yielded much happier results, and put many spirits and frightened households at peace. I quite enjoy my gift when it gives everyone concerned peace and happiness.

Most recently, my boss asked me to visit with her over a period of a week. On about the third day, she asked me what I thought of her house. I told her it felt very historical, very ancestral, and occupied by someone other than herself. She then asked me to identify the center of this residency. I immediately went to her office, which had been used previously as a second bedroom. I felt a sad and angry presence, that made the room feel dark and heavy. We then went about the house, burning sage and sweetgrass. We went into her livingroom where I began to apply my well-honed technique, and discovered a woman and her daughters there. She had lived on the property very many years prior and didn't want to leave. She loved her home, in fact. It appeared that she was so sad after having lost her husband, that she could not leave her daughters. I wasn't sure what the exact situation was, whether she had committed suicide after murdering her daughters, or if they'd been killed all together in some unexpected tragedy. But, she wasn't about to leave. She had another daughter, a very small child, who had died years before her, and this mother missed her and longed for her, but was afraid to leave her other two daughters behind, and as a matter of fact, downright refused to leave them. She was holding them close to her body when I discovered her. They were all sad, and the mother was angry.

When I told her she had to leave, that this house was not her home, that she had a husband and another child to go home to, she was afraid to let go. Suddenly, out of nowhere, came this middle-aged man, who scooped the ladies up on the handlebars of a bicycle and laughed as he pedaled them all away! When my boss asked his name, I told her what he said, and she began crying. She asked me to describe him, and as I did, she cried even harder, and when I mentioned the bicycle and the color of it, she broke out with, "Daddy, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry about the bike. I promise I didn't mean to!"
With that, I watched the four spirits fade away, and I opened my eyes and saw my boss sobbing into her hands.

After she recomposed herself, she explained to me about her dad and the bike, and that she wondered why "he" came to her rescue at that time. I told her, he still came to visit her from time to time, and he had been keeping his eye on the situation, but needed her to finally recognize that they were there and that she had to desire to have them removed. He was only all too willing to take them away and let her relax, as apparently, their presence had depressed her home for a very long time. She still gets bits of things happening in the house from time to time, but she herself has a gift which she's not willing to acknowledge since she's more afraid of possessing it, than living with ghosts in her house.

Anyway, after all had been said and done, she actually said, "I never knew a real witch before!" I was stunned! I laughed and said, "Well, I'm not a witch, actually. I've studied under many Native American "medicine men", who have taught me much, but my gift came to me when I was a child. I may have been born with it. I would prefer to be considered a "Medicine or Holy" woman than a witch."

I don't delve into witchcraft and spells. I don't attend any covens or ceremonies dealing with witches. Yet, I suppose, depending on one's point of view, I could possibly "be-witched"?

And The Snakes Came

This will be one of those promised "weird" posts, so, all I ask is please read with an open mind.

When I was a child I used to always have dreams about snakes. Of course, I attributed it to the time when I was helping my best friend clear a field for planting. I got something in my eye, and was rubbing it, when through the blur I noticed what appeared to be a stick laying across my new shoe. I reached down to pick it up and toss it, but the stick came to life and wriggled right up my leg! My immediate reaction, along with screaming, was the kick it hard and take off running for the house! I had kicked it so hard, apparently, that my friend's dad found it coiled around a fence post all the way down at the other end of the field!

So, I decided that my dreams were simply a subconscious reminder of that event. But, as I was at church one Sunday, the pastor was preaching and suddenly he pointed at me directly, and shouted, "And if YOU have been dreamin' of snakes, you better get down here to this altar and beg God for forgiveness, because YOU must be sinnin'!" Well, you better believe I jumped up from my seat and ran to the altar, begging God to forgive me of whatever sins I must have unknowingly committed!

Still, over the years, I continued to dream of snakes. They came in all sizes and colors, and they never attacked me. As a matter of fact, for the most part, they seemed to be trying to tell me something.

When I was thirty-something, I met an Indian man at a Native American art museum, who invited me to his house for dinner. I, being of Cherokee and Chippewa descent, was honored to receive such an invitation. From then on, I was introduced to many Native Americans of all different tribes. I became more involved with the Native community and over time was taught many of their beliefs, traditions and customs.

At one point, I met a man, who I was to learn later was a "Medicine Man", a spiritual teacher. We spent many days and nights discussing things that were spiritual in nature, and comparing their beliefs with my own Pentecostal Christian upbringing. When we got to talking about different "Totem Animals" or Spirit Guides, I asked him about what the snake meant. Having been raised that snakes were the incarnate representatives of all that was evil and satanic, I fully expected him to cringe and back away from me, sending me on my evil way. But, to my delight, he smiled and told me something that finally put my spirit to rest.

He explained to me that in their belief, the snake was a messenger between the Earth Mother and the Creator. The snake spends its entire life closest to the ground. It can hear the heartbeat and the cries and prayers from the earth. It then climbs as high as it can and sends those prayers and pleas to God, the Creator. While I understood that this was simply symbolism, it started to help me to understand more about my dreams.

The snake also represents constant renewal, the shedding off of the old and living with the new. That there is constant change taking place over our lifetimes and we must be willing to shake off all the old things of our lives and accept the new things and events that are to take place.

Suddenly, I understood that the snakes in my dreams were messengers to me from God. Perhaps, the snake was my "totem animal", my "spirit guide". Once I started paying more attention to them in my dreams, their particular colors, their particular species, and their movements during my dream, I came to understand their messages. I also noticed that every time they came to my dreams, it was when I was faced with a serious life changing decision. In interpreting their movements, they've yet to fail me in helping me come to a decision. I've noticed that if they move forward, I, too, should move forward with what I'd been considering in my life. If they turn around and go back, I know I'm moving in the wrong direction. If they stop and look me in the face and don't go in either direction, I'm to stop and think about what I'm planning to do. That it's not a time to make a move, yet. I'm to take my time and pray on it.

So, while I'm still afraid of physical snakes, I'm not so afraid of them in my dreams. I know they're telling me something to help me in my life. It certainly causes me to stop and consider everything. And, who am I to say that God does NOT use other spirits to His good and for our own? We never know what form God will take or how he will send his angels to us. They might not all have golden hair and wings, you know!

You, You...Mother!

Ok, so this one isn't going to be the most outlandish blog you're going to read, but I didn't say that ALL of my life experiences were unbelievable! :)

So, I ask you, if you could be a mother all over again, I mean from scratch, from the very VERY beginning, would you?

Would I???

You bet I would! I must admit, I would have chosen a better first husband and father to my first child. Yeah, that certainly would have been changed. My second husband and father to the rest of my children was a good choice, though. But, I'm not here to talk about the fathers. They'll get their due next month.

Having become a mother has been the highest privilege from God our Creator! I can say this, even though, I lost a son. Granted, I had precious little time with him. Actually, no time at all in his conscious life. But, I still loved him. I looked forward to holding him and having him in my life, with our family. I could feel him moving around, and making his presence known to me. I planned for him. God had promised him to me. Yes, God had promised him to me, but He didn't say I could keep him here with me. I ended up holding his tiny lifeless body in my hands, crying out, grieving, asking God "But, why, God? Why?". Well, God knows how much we can handle. My son, having a brain tumor, would have suffered, and so would our family have at that time. But God doesn't take away without giving something back, as nearly a year later, He blessed me with another son I was allowed to keep! But, you see, now I have TWO sons I get to keep, because I know my first son is still with me in spirit, and he'll be waiting for me when it's time to go meet him. And, He blessed me with two beautiful strong daughters, as well. They're different as night and day, but they're my treasures!

So, now, on to what I learned from the three little blessings God let me keep here on earth. My children taught me how to cuddle and comfort, even though my own mother wasn't one of those cuddly types. It didn't come easily, though. I wasn't so cuddly with my first daughter. I didn't know how to do that. But by the time I had my second daughter, I started to become a more loving mom. I just wish I'd been that way more with my first one. I had learned from my mother how to be very strict, even to the point of abuse, which I hate to admit. I hated that part of my mother. I had vowed never to be like her in that respect, but as they say, "Children learn what they live"...AND, they live what they learn. Mom had received NO affection, and had learned abuse from her parents, so that's the only thing she felt she could pass on to us kids. Where my mom and I differ, though, is that where I learned by watching other Moms, mainly on all those old TV shows, how to cuddle and love on my children, my mom hated seeing people like that. She saw them as sickening sweet phonies! The most affection I ever got from my mother, was a goodnight kiss. There were never hugs or cuddling. Sadly, she hates that even to this day.

But, there was a side to mom that was a bit nicer and more fun. From time to time, when she was in a playful mood, which was rare, she taught me dances like the Fox Trot and the Charleston. This was something I held dear to my heart over the years, and I carried that over into my own life with my kids. I danced with my girls in the livingroom to music videos on TV. My son taught me how to marenge and salsa, which he'd learned from his friend's mom, who was a Latina. Dancing with my children was my most treasured moments and memories. Probably because that had been the best time I had ever shared with my own mom.

By the time I had my third child, my son, I learned how to laugh at silly things, as he was a born clown. I eventually learned what was important to deal with, and what to let go. I learned what called for punishment, and what could be dealt with sufficiently with stern reprimands. I learned patience, although there were moments when it was stretched beyond its limits and, I admit, I lost it more than once. But, I found it again later on, when it was most needed. Good thing I usually put it where it belonged...like in my heart. It was easier to find that way.

My children now reside within my heart 24/7 since they've all left the nest a long time ago, and have all made lives of their own. I carry them with me wherever I go. And, not just the children I gave birth to, either. I've moved into my heart many children over the years who have called me "Mom", and they, too have been counted among my greatest blessings. And then there's always the multitude of family pets which I mothered. And, here I am at over 50 years of age and I'm still mothering youngin's. While out doing the Renaissance Festivals, I've come across many young wayward souls who all have needed a shoulder, a hug or advice. Mom's are always full of that, you know. We also have broader shoulders than any football player in the NFL! Go ahead, pile it on, we can take it!

I have to say that being a mother, starting at age 19 has been my greatest accomplishment.
No matter the pain, the heartache and heart break. No matter the many times I've felt that I failed miserably as a mother, and no matter the disappointments experienced from both sides, I've still never regretted being a Mother. My greatest joys have been watching the changes in my children as they grew. I love sharing in their successes and being there for them when they feel they can't figure out life on their own. Helping them to understand that life just isn't fair all the time. Standing beside them as they make difficult choices that affect not just themselves, but everyone around them. Crying and laughing with them.

The hardest thing was praying for their safety as they left the nest, one at a time, testing their wings, and then praising God for keeping them safe and well. I'm proud of growing them up to be the awesome adults they've become. My heart just bursts with love and pride for each one of them.

Now I smile the most when I get a surprise visit, or a phone call from one of them telling me of their latest success or new experience or date, or when they say, "Mom, do you have time to talk? I really need you now." A lump forms in my throat and stays there until the conversation ends with, "Thanks, Mom. I'm glad we could talk. I feel better now.". That makes me know I done good!

I've been called many things in my life, but being called a Mother has been the most rewarding and satisfying. Even when someone was angry with me and spouted, "You, you....MOTHER!" I just smiled and said proudly, "Why, yes, I am, thank you!"
So, I just want to say HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL YOU MOTHERS OUT THERE!

A Trip and a Fall Down Memory Lane, Intro.

I've been told by many over the years that I should write a book about my life experiences. Well, I don't have a lot of confidence in actually trying to get a publisher to put it out on the market. Besides, they'd really have a tough time trying to determine if what I write is fiction or not!

My life truly has been anything but normal. But, then, what is normal? By whose standards should I weigh my life experiences? If I weren't "me", however, I'd have to agree with many, that some of what I've been through has truly been outrageous, and quite unbelievable, even to me! I've had someone ask me "Just how many lives have you lived?", and my own sister asked me, "Sharon, what HAVEN'T you done?". I have been the subject of cruel and outright ridicule from my family, most of all, but they haven't lived my life. As a matter of fact, I lived far away from my family for 30 years because of their ridicule and hurtful comments. And, when you live outside of your family shelter, you expose yourself to a plethora of outside influences and get the opportunity to be exposed to many different lifestyles and situations. Such has been my life.
And, for better or for worse, it all has happened, just as I will share here from time to time. It might make for interesting and entertaining reading if you get bored enough to peruse my blogs, but it's going to be a project for me. It'll help me to put into black and white all the things I'm afraid will be wiped from my memory over the next few years.

Will it be of any help or consequence to those who happen upon my writings? That is only for the Creator God to know and decide. I'm sure He will direct those to my blogs who either need a laugh, or uplifting. And those who might be seeking answers to questions they've been afraid to ask, for fear of being ridiculed by family and friends. Perhaps, what I tell here will help someone to make a life-changing decision, or it will help someone to just have a good cry and wash all the crap out of their systems. Who knows? Only God knows. But, I will do my best to make each entry as clear and educational and entertaining as I possibly can.

I welcome comments, but please be kind, no matter how outlandish you may feel my life stories are. As my mother always used to say to me, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." Well, I honestly don't expect all comments to be filled with roses and sunshine, but please don't be hurtful. Do feel free to share your own experiences, as they relate to each subject. I'd love to read about them!