I definitely didn't grow up in a Christian household. If my father did have a bible I imagine it would probably have been cut out to hide his drugs. I do remember going to a church in my hometown of Okeechobee,Fl. The preacher was crude and the Sunday school teacher was dull and passionless. Christianity seemed like a punishment as a child. And our parents didn't go with us. I think that was strange until I got there and we were the only kids not sitting with their parents. So that made me feel like church was just a way for our parents to get a break from us. we were always told to pray,but I had no idea who God and Jesus were. So my prayers were quite empty. I'm not sure I believed they could change anything. It was more or less part of a bedtime routine.
My mother was one of the hardest working women I've ever met. While she was out making the money and doing all she could to provide for us. My father was home sitting on the couch drinking ,smoking marijuana, and doing other lovely substances. I don't recall ever having a positive conversation with the man. I think the closest we ever were was when my mother left.She couldn't take the abuse anymore and I don't blame her. In that moment when he realized she was gone for good he broke down and cried. I felt the closest to him then. I don't hate my father I think alot of the choices he made were based on his substance abuse problems. I think he could've been a good man if he wanted too he just wanted drugs and partying more.
My father was definitely something else. He never really showed affection. I'm not sure if he loved me or not. I think I loved him because he was my father. But not because of any example or show of compassion he ever displayed. I know that's sad,but it's true. I was angry at my mom for awhile for leaving. Mainly because she couldn't take us with her. I had to take on alot of her roles around the house. That also means her share of the "Physical Discipline." My father had always been a very physical person. It only got worse with her absence. I don't know how my father grew up. I'm not sure if he was living by example or if it was just the alcohol and drugs. I remember alot of bruises and bumps at his hand. I know there are others who have had it way worse. I just wish that was easier to think of when you're a child. All you can think is, "what did I do to make my father hate me. " I don't think any child should ever have to fear their parents. No kid should ever have to be scared of what type of mood their parents are in, because it could mean physical pain if it's a bad mood day.
But the words...oh the words were so much worse than any physical bruise. I'm just now growing close enough to God to really let them go. It took me about 15 years to forgive him,but now that I have the burden of his words have no more bearing on me. Praise God for that! Unfortunately I took his drunk ramblings way too far. I actually let him telling me I was ugly and useless drive me into relationships that scarred me even deeper than I already was. As I have said I have forgiven him. But unfortunately he is the same man I grew up with. He still harasses my mother every chance he gets and denies ever hurting me in any way. He does drugs with some of my siblings and well that's just not the type of person I would put around my children. He will never meet my children and while that is sad...I'm also very confident in that decision. God made me these beautiful babies' parent. I will only get so much time to raise them and care for them and I couldn't knowingly endanger them.
My childhood was scary at times,but I also had some wonderful people in it. I had my mother,my lovely cousin Heather and her children,my mom's friend Edie and her family,and my beautiful Grandmother. I will always love these people for giving me a break!! I had very few moments in life where I felt like a kid,but these people were there for those! I especially liked my time with my grandmother god rest her soul. I remember her being so funny. She was the one who taught me to start a puzzle from the outside and work in :) I wish I had taken the time to tell her how special she was. Then there's Auntie Edie. I always felt so free at her house. And now she is my aunt for real,now that I'm married to her nephew Raymond. What a wonderful man God blessed me with!
I think that's a good place to stop. Pick it back up at age 13!
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