I had to write a short creative piece for my writing class. My first writing class and my first short creative piece. I sat down at my laptop and began a Freewrite. For those of you that don't know what a freewrite is, it is simply writing your first thoughts out without thinking, editing or correcting. I started with the words to an old country song "Grandpa tell me about the good ole days."
What you are about to read, is raw, unedited and emotional. I had no idea I even had those thoughts inside of me.
What I wrote that night turned out to be medicine for my soul. Light for my spirit and healing for my mind. A true miracle that I know now God had been working on for 2 years, which finally came to a head that night and in the final cut of my short creative piece that you can read somewhere here on the blog called "The Little Girl Inside-Forgiven"
Grandpa tell me about the good old days. How are things in heaven? Do you miss me? I sure miss you. Why did you leave me here all alone? You came to save me I was told, but then you went away. I didn’t believe it, I wouldn’t I couldn’t the day I lost you I lost everything, my friend, my greatest admirer, my protector, my hero. You thought I was something, you thought I was somebody. Your eyes lit up when I walked in the room, your feet danced ever so slightly. You know what I loved most was your day old beard when you tickled my neck with your little pig snort. Weird when I think about it today but back then it sure did bring a lot of giggles. I loved you so much; I have not loved like that since. I felt so loved by you grandpa, it hurts so much that you left me here all alone. I cry even today when I think about you honestly grandpa I hadn’t really thought about you in years I mean I think about you all the time but I don’t sit and deeply fell the sorrow and longing I have for you, I don’t ever think about missing you like I am right now, because well grandpa it just really still hurts has if it were just yesterday when I lost you. You have a great great grandson now from me your favorite first granddaughter. He is my first most favorite grandson (actually he is my only grandchild) so I can safely say favorite and you know what grandpa he was born on your birthday August 22 and I am living in a house that was built the year you were born 1915. So I feel you are still a definite presence in my life. So far away, but still so near to me, my heart and my soul. I love you grandpa, you showed me that there is a good safe love out there, I just haven’t really found it yet other than you of course and Jesus, but no other man. Why did that happen to me? Did you know? That changed me so profoundly it is so hard for me to think of my life growing up on the farm with you and then he came into my mother’s life and completely changed me. I was happy and innocent and pure and really happy. What would I be like today if, if , if, Everything I think about leads me right back here, do you know how damn annoying that is, I want to rewind back to my life on the farm and rewrite my life. Edit out Tony and what would become of me? That is a mystery truly for I cannot even imagine who I would be today, not in my wildest dreams. I am 43 years old and I am sobbing like a baby for that little girl on the farm that was lost, I am so sad for her, she disappeared into nothing, never to be seen or heard from again, she is what I lost, she left me, Oh my god I cry for her, because she died, is she up there with you grandpa? I need to find her, you see she left too soon, I wasn’t ready to let her go, she took everything that was good and innocent with her, she only left me scraps of memories that were too painful to fully explore. A piece here and a piece there, kind of like bread crumbs, just enough to sustain, but not enough to bring forth full life. I wrote a piece a few nights ago that told of my depression in that piece I remembered when depression reared its ugly head in my mind, I wrote that I would cry pleading to have it back, something I had lost, something life giving was gone and I wanted it back. I pleaded with god but to no avail, and tonight as I am remembering me on that farm I realized that I as that little girl was no more not because I had aged but because that little girl stopped living at the age of 5, she was killed in a moment, in an instant she was gone and there was no going back to that farm, even the memories became too hard to bear. I hate him, he killed me. He murdered me and got away with it. I can’t dwell here long because I can feel the evil of it. I can feel it; everything good and pure gets snuffed out when I dwell in that place of hate for too long. It consumes everything in my mind, and in my room I can feel it closing in on me, almost like it has fingers and it is gripping itself around my chest, tightening in on me as if to stop my heart from beating. I can’t linger in any one place too long; there is no peace in that you know. I raised two beautiful daughters had an interesting and challenging career in the corporate world, had a successful and thriving business, a long marriage that wasn’t riddled with drama, it was fairly good, quiet and safe, why a divorce? you might wonder, that’s another story….knowing me you would say I am stable, smart, witty, strong oh I could go on and on, looking at me you would probably say a lot of the same things, but reading my writings and having privilege to my inner thoughts paints a whole nother picture all together. That is really scary for me. I stuffed everything real about me, hurts, fears, angers, resentments, childhood good, childhood bad, all of it, I stuffed it deep down, zipped it up good and tight and got on with my life. I thought I was doing a terrific job, now I am pretty sure I must have stuffed wisdom, common sense and recovery right down in there with the rest of the garbage. I have to bring her back to life. She needs CPR and I am the only one that can administer it to her. I am her breath, her heartbeat, without me she cannot live. Tony didn’t kill her I did? I don’t know if I am ready for that, Tony killed her and I buried her? Maybe that doesn’t really matter, maybe what matters is that to move on I need to give her life, a heartbeat, a voice to speak. I am going to bed, I have cried my eyes out, I am exhausted.
1 comment:
My dearest sweet Theresa. *throws her arms around you and cuddles you close* My heart cries with you, and feels your pain, more than you'll ever know. Or maybe you will. We are very much alike, but that I do not know who was the one who took away my innocence. But I can say this, and that is the little girl is not dead. She hides away, deep within you. She is the one who cries the tears, she is the one that relives the pain.
She is the one who hurts, the one who feels the confusion, the fear, the betrayal. Others take over to protect her, they hide her away deep within you. They paste a smile on your face, they put face to the anger and hate that the child was afraid to show. The innocent child had only pure emotions to feel. But when she is pushed away, the mind creates other forms to protect, to defend.
In that way, we become defiant, we become easily frustrated, we take much personally, or we go into denial. We hide the truth of what is wrong, as if ignoring it, the problem/past will go away. The trick is not to ignore it, but to accept it and let it go. I know you say you have forgiven your stepfather, Theresa. But have you forgiven your Grandfather? Have you forgiven yourself?
Forgiving your stepfather was a brave move, an inspiring one. But have you forgiven yourself for what he did to you? Though we may not know it, quite often we blame ourselves for what happens to us... even if we can't prevent it.
Have you forgiven your Grandfather? You may have loved him completely, and still do. But a part of you may feel betrayed by him dying, though it was not his fault. Have you forgiven yourself? Quite often we know when we are unjustly angry, and we feel bad for it. Have you forgiven yourself?
Quite often when we think of forgiveness, we forget that when we need to forgive someone else for a wrong done to us, we also need to forgive ourselves for the underlying guilt that we automatically lay upon ourselves.
You are a very strong and amazing person Theresa, and you have been such a blessing in my life. An inspiration, a friend, a God-send. Perhaps in heaven my beloved dead family and friends are with your Grandfather, watching over us, and praying for us. If so, he is well looked after. My Baba (ukranian Great Grandmother) makes a sweet ukranian dinner. Perogies, sausage, and everything! And from scratch too! And my horses may even bring your Grandfather down to visit you in your dreams.
Even God may come into your dreams as He had come into mine, and He will give you a mirror where you can talk to your Grandfather. You know your Grandfather loved you, and loves you, and would have done anything he could to have protected you from what you had to endure.
Many times, we look back and wish to be able to rewind our lives, and change things for the better with the knowledge we have now. But what we have to see is that everything... good and bad... has united to bring us to this point.
Job himself had suffered greatly for the sake of his faith. Jesus had been crucified by those whom He sought to save. By the very ones He was giving His life for. We suffer, but that which does not kill us makes us stronger. We cannot die without our permission. Our mortal bodies can be marked, beaten, raped, molested, cut, torchered. But our souls are untouchable except by what we allow.
Do we allow ourselves to be "killed" by those who have done us wrong? Do we give up on ourselves because of circumstances we couldn't prevent? Do we blame ourselves for being victimized? Do we become angry, hateful people because of the injustice we have suffered? Or do we stand strong, wave God's flag and say "my body you may have violated, but I remain strong in God and Jesus Christ!"
Grudges held harm none but the one who bears the grudges. Forgiving is easy to say, but not so easy to uphold. Much like, as the main character says in "Dangerous Minds", "it's easier to get an A, than it is to keep it". Such is forgiving someone. We may be in a forgiving mood at one point, and forgive those who have wronged us. But in another moment we may find that we still harbor pieces of that inner rage.
That is why, as it says, we must continuously invite Jesus into our house, into all areas of our life, and let him clean. Because, much like the houses of collectors, our inner selves can gather a lot of garbage in a short amount of time. Jesus can clean thoroughly, but if you forget even one room, Satan sends in the "dust devils" and soon our "house" is back in the condition it was before. So we must keep it clean, helping Jesus and God to help us.
Tears will always come for our loved ones, no matter how much time has passed. Heck, I didn't even know my Mom that well and I still cry for her. You are an amazing and wonderful person Theresa. God bless and I hope I have been as much of help and support to you as you have been to me.
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