Once again we have an actor telling us how much we don't know about..........everything. Tom Cruise should concentrate on his acting and maybe get better at it, instead of telling us how Scientology is the saviour of mankind. He is not that good of an actor in my opinion. When you are watching a movie he is in, you see Tom Cruise playing someone. He is not good enough to remove himself from the character the way truly good actors can. I am always suspicious when an actor or singer.......any celebrity.......tries to tell us things. I do think using their celebrity to sway public opinion is wrong and a bit scary. Imagine what damage a well-liked celebrity could do. I do think most celebrities know this and use their celebrity status wisely.
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When I was around ten or eleven, I lived across the street from my elementary school. The city was building a new school behind the one that had been there for something like thirty years. I loved the old school building. It had character. My brother and I am two of our friends used to sneak into the old building and play. We would act out plays on the stage and run, sliding up and down the halls. We played around the new school too. In and out of it while it was being built. One day it was hot and cloudy and we decided to check out the new room that had just been finished on the side of the new school. We went in and shut the door. It was a small storage room....I suppose it was going to be used for storage. Anyway, it was pitch black in there and hot. The door was very thick. We sat there and told scary stories and then it got too hot to stay there. My brother pushed on the door but it was stuck. After several scary minutes we got the door open and ran home. I think about that sometimes. No one knew where we were. So, if we had not been able to open the door, it could have been several hours or even days before anyone found us. I especially think about it when I read things like this.........Today, the three New Jersey boys who had been missing were found in the trunk of a car, dead.
Things like this do make me ask why. Why were these three little boys not found in time and why were my brother and I able to get out of that room?
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I have an apology to make. A few months ago I wrote something about how some exJWs have trouble overcoming the Watchtower mindset. I still believe this, because I have seen it in members of my family and friends who were JWs. I have seen this mindset online. However, I do think the most vicious are that way because they want to be, it has nothing to do with their having been JWs. Most likely they acted this way even before they became JWs.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Thursday, June 23, 2005
More this and that
I am spending most of my time now spoiling my youngest grandson. He is absolutely the sweetest, cutest and of course, smartest baby you would ever want to see. I haven't much wanted to spend time on the computer, but I know that if I am going to continue writing I have to do it. I can't let myself start making excuses. So, I am going to do some writing exercises that have been suggested to me. Won't be posting the results here of course. This journal is enough of a silly mish mash as it is, so adding even more will just take up space.
I have been trying to write a sonnet, but I do not write poetry of any kind. Which is the reason that I am trying to write one. I might post that one here if I ever finish it.
My friend Leslie is moving into her new house next week and I will be helping her with the move. Actually, all I will be doing is making sure the movers don't throw the boxes marked fragile around. I will have my older son's two little girls with me, my son and his wife are going to Daytona for a few days. Once the move is over I will come back here to spoil Reese a little more.
Speaking of moving, my daughter and son-in-law will be moving to an apartment complex across the street from this one. Their landlord wants to sell this one and is holding one there for them. It is a two bedroom townhouse (so is this one) that has a little more room in it. And, the patio is bigger so that Reese can go outside there more.
And, still speaking of moving, my oldest son has decided that he wants to live in the country and has bought land about 15 miles up highway 49 from Gulfport. So, I will be moving back into my house there soon. My youngest daughter wants to move there too...she does not like Baton Rouge. Her and her husband both want to move back home, but he wants to stay here so they can save money for a house of their own. They can come live in my house as long as they want.....it has a huge backyard that will be perfect for Reese. I will talk to my son when I go home this weekend about the details.
I am making plans for my summer fossil hunting trip. I looking forward to getting off alone and just go where I feel or go down which ever road looks the most interesting. I will stop in north Mississippi to visit some relatives, but not for long. Most of the ones there are JWs and if I stay around them too long at any one time, they start with the....'time is getting short'....'we are so close to the end'....and worse.......'your daddy would want you to come back'. Usually I can get one good day with them before they start. And, I want to get more info on the family, so I will grit my teeth and visit. Don't get me wrong, I love them and pray that God draws them out of the JWs.
I am still amazed at how some people can become so obsessed with someone else, especially if it is only online. And, at the same time the obsessed person tells everyone,loudly, that they cannot stand whoever it is they are obsessed with. Odd. (Remember, I am not talking about YOU.)
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Seeing the Beatles in concert
When I was sixteen I saw the Beatles at City Park Stadium in New Orleans. A friend's father volunteered to take as many girls as could fit comfortably in his Volkswagen Bus. So, my friend and six girls and her father and her father's girlfriend drove from Moss Point, Mississippi to New Orleans. Her father left us at the stadium about three hours before show time. We walked around the park and stadium then tried to find ways to sneak in. We all had tickets........they costs five dollars........but we were positive that the Beatles were in the stadium hanging out and we were going to find them.
Finally, the gates were opened and we ran in. It was a mad scene, just like all the news footage they show now of screaming girls crying and fainting. And, this was before the Beatles even got there. I can't for the life of me remember who the other acts were. I know one was a girl. I don't know why they even bothered. No one could hear anything. No one was even trying to listen to them. We were too busy screaming......'WE WANT THE BEATLES!!!'. My friend was in one of her pious moods and kept saying that George would not appreciate or approve of us doing that. I did see her with her mouth wide open a bit later though. She lost her voice before I lost mine.
A group of policemen came out and ringed the field, City Park was an open air stadium. We knew what was fixing to happen and I thought I was going to wet my pants.
Then, finally, there they were. John, Paul, George and Ringo. They ran up onto the stage and the screaming got even louder. I was deaf and hoarse by then, I was shortly to loose my voice completely. I have no idea what they sang or said. It didn't matter. What matter was that I was within fifty yards of THEM.
It was over all too soon. Girls were still crying and fainting. One girl sat under a tree sobbing because she had just realized that she had come as close as she was ever going to be to Paul. I was in another world. I KNEW that I was going to meet them one day. Not only meet them, I was going to be friends with them.
My friend's father found us and told us that as he was driving around New Orleans, he had stopped next to the limo the Beatles were in. Said that he could have reached out and touched Ringo. His daughter loved Ringo and started crying again. We all piled into the bus and talked at once about the concert. After awhile we settled down and some of us went to sleep. I got home at 3am and missed school the next day. My mother was mad. (and I am still amazed that she allowed me to go) But, I had seen the Beatles and ran across the field after them.
It's sad to think that sort of excitement leaves us as we get older. I do get excited about things, but not at that level of almost total abandonment. I don't know of anyone who does once they hit thirty or so. Too sad isn't it?
Finally, the gates were opened and we ran in. It was a mad scene, just like all the news footage they show now of screaming girls crying and fainting. And, this was before the Beatles even got there. I can't for the life of me remember who the other acts were. I know one was a girl. I don't know why they even bothered. No one could hear anything. No one was even trying to listen to them. We were too busy screaming......'WE WANT THE BEATLES!!!'. My friend was in one of her pious moods and kept saying that George would not appreciate or approve of us doing that. I did see her with her mouth wide open a bit later though. She lost her voice before I lost mine.
A group of policemen came out and ringed the field, City Park was an open air stadium. We knew what was fixing to happen and I thought I was going to wet my pants.
Then, finally, there they were. John, Paul, George and Ringo. They ran up onto the stage and the screaming got even louder. I was deaf and hoarse by then, I was shortly to loose my voice completely. I have no idea what they sang or said. It didn't matter. What matter was that I was within fifty yards of THEM.
It was over all too soon. Girls were still crying and fainting. One girl sat under a tree sobbing because she had just realized that she had come as close as she was ever going to be to Paul. I was in another world. I KNEW that I was going to meet them one day. Not only meet them, I was going to be friends with them.
My friend's father found us and told us that as he was driving around New Orleans, he had stopped next to the limo the Beatles were in. Said that he could have reached out and touched Ringo. His daughter loved Ringo and started crying again. We all piled into the bus and talked at once about the concert. After awhile we settled down and some of us went to sleep. I got home at 3am and missed school the next day. My mother was mad. (and I am still amazed that she allowed me to go) But, I had seen the Beatles and ran across the field after them.
It's sad to think that sort of excitement leaves us as we get older. I do get excited about things, but not at that level of almost total abandonment. I don't know of anyone who does once they hit thirty or so. Too sad isn't it?
Monday, June 20, 2005
Pills and Rivers and......
I spent many years being afraid of my mother. People thought we were extremely close because I am the youngest and the only girl. It was a weird situation. I was afraid of her, but I did not want to be away from her.
When I was nineteen, I finally began to understand and separate the fear from the love. That was the first time my mother openly attempted suicide in front of me. I used to find suicide notes stuck in my books. I always kept books I loved and would re-read them. By the time I found a note, she would be over whatever it was. Nothing was ever said. Talk about a surreal life. This night she was upset because I had gone out with a group of friends......and one boy that I was interested in.......there was a fender bender so it was about 12:30am when I got home. My mother flew at me in a rage (sounds trite, but that is exactly how it was). Then she went into the kitchen and started swallowing pills. At that time we lived just across the street from someone she worked with who she admired. I started to go across and ask the woman for help, and my mother went totally crazy, crying and holding the door so I could not go out. BUT, it was only because she did not want any outsider to know. This was the epiphany for me. My mother was doing this for attention, nothing more. I stood there...stunned... looking at her....she went into the bathroom and made herself throw up.
Later, for the first time ever, I talked to my oldest brother's wife about it. That is when I found out that my mother had done this often. Apparently she used to say she was going to drown herself. Or, take pills. It is almost certain that I heard this from the time I was an infant. People will do and say anything in front of babies and small children. They think if babies can't understand the words,they won't understand the emotions. Then afterwards, when everything is relatively okay, nothing is said, because if you don't give voice to it then it just goes away.
I understand why my mother was the way she was. She spent her life filled with guilt for surviving the car/train wreck that killed her family. My mother was fourteen when the car her family was riding in was hit by the mail train. The last thing she remembered is telling her four-year old brother that if he did not sit still the man in the train would get him. He lived four hours. Her mother, father and sister were killed instantly. She inherited the family farm of 140 acres and a substantial settlement from the railroad. At fifteen she married my father, a JW....and an alcoholic. At twenty she had two boys and had just buried her third baby. He lived eight days. My father sold the last of the farm for a car that year. He had already piddled away the settlement.
My mother had resisted becoming a Jw for about twelve years after marrying my father. My father moved her and my brothers about six hours away from their hometown and anyone she had every known. A Jw sister convinced her that her dead baby's salvation depended on her actions. Also, my mother was lonely and this woman befriended her.
Becoming a Jw prevented my mother from getting the psychological help she needed. Her guilt led to phobias, low self-esteem, a false sense of superiority, double-mindedness, and a condemning nature. She loved to talk about the lady down the street who was doing the same things she was doing. It was as if she talked about the 'sin' of someone else, then it negated HER sin.
My mother died in 2002. During my mother's last hospital stay, she finally accepted that she was dying. She was terror-stricken. One night she thrashed around in the bed, clammy and sweaty, breathing hard. She would almost say something then stop and rock back and forth. I told her that whatever she was afraid to say could not be as bad as holding it back was. Finally, she said........'I did the best I could'. Such is the 'peace' of Jw salvation.
When I was nineteen, I finally began to understand and separate the fear from the love. That was the first time my mother openly attempted suicide in front of me. I used to find suicide notes stuck in my books. I always kept books I loved and would re-read them. By the time I found a note, she would be over whatever it was. Nothing was ever said. Talk about a surreal life. This night she was upset because I had gone out with a group of friends......and one boy that I was interested in.......there was a fender bender so it was about 12:30am when I got home. My mother flew at me in a rage (sounds trite, but that is exactly how it was). Then she went into the kitchen and started swallowing pills. At that time we lived just across the street from someone she worked with who she admired. I started to go across and ask the woman for help, and my mother went totally crazy, crying and holding the door so I could not go out. BUT, it was only because she did not want any outsider to know. This was the epiphany for me. My mother was doing this for attention, nothing more. I stood there...stunned... looking at her....she went into the bathroom and made herself throw up.
Later, for the first time ever, I talked to my oldest brother's wife about it. That is when I found out that my mother had done this often. Apparently she used to say she was going to drown herself. Or, take pills. It is almost certain that I heard this from the time I was an infant. People will do and say anything in front of babies and small children. They think if babies can't understand the words,they won't understand the emotions. Then afterwards, when everything is relatively okay, nothing is said, because if you don't give voice to it then it just goes away.
I understand why my mother was the way she was. She spent her life filled with guilt for surviving the car/train wreck that killed her family. My mother was fourteen when the car her family was riding in was hit by the mail train. The last thing she remembered is telling her four-year old brother that if he did not sit still the man in the train would get him. He lived four hours. Her mother, father and sister were killed instantly. She inherited the family farm of 140 acres and a substantial settlement from the railroad. At fifteen she married my father, a JW....and an alcoholic. At twenty she had two boys and had just buried her third baby. He lived eight days. My father sold the last of the farm for a car that year. He had already piddled away the settlement.
My mother had resisted becoming a Jw for about twelve years after marrying my father. My father moved her and my brothers about six hours away from their hometown and anyone she had every known. A Jw sister convinced her that her dead baby's salvation depended on her actions. Also, my mother was lonely and this woman befriended her.
Becoming a Jw prevented my mother from getting the psychological help she needed. Her guilt led to phobias, low self-esteem, a false sense of superiority, double-mindedness, and a condemning nature. She loved to talk about the lady down the street who was doing the same things she was doing. It was as if she talked about the 'sin' of someone else, then it negated HER sin.
My mother died in 2002. During my mother's last hospital stay, she finally accepted that she was dying. She was terror-stricken. One night she thrashed around in the bed, clammy and sweaty, breathing hard. She would almost say something then stop and rock back and forth. I told her that whatever she was afraid to say could not be as bad as holding it back was. Finally, she said........'I did the best I could'. Such is the 'peace' of Jw salvation.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Living in the south.....
Living in the south, Mississippi, I have gotten used to the snide comments from people who think it is still pre-segregation down here. People are always making some comment about 'Mississippi Burning' and wondering if it is safe for people of color to live here. Yes, we do have apologies to make about the way people were treated here. Especially during the 60s. I am glad to see the klansman on trial for the murders of the three freedom fighters. I am glad that it is still being investigated and I pray that all who were involved with be prosecuted.
I am also aware that racism is not confined to the south. I see racism and prejudice in the north. However, since I am a white woman, if I say that racism is worse or rampant in other parts of the country, then I am looked at as if I am denying the south's past. I am not. I remember watching grown men and women in Boston picket the integration of the schools. This was after schools in the south were integrated.
I have a friend who went with me to see John Grisham's "A Time To Kill'. In the middle of the movie, he leaned over and told me that Mississippi has a lot to make up for and that we might not overcome the past. This from a man who had not even met a black person until he joined the army. And, his grandmother had a 'Jap' who did her yard work. Apparently racism is ok if it is anywhere other the south. His mother came to visit and was surprised that my neighborhood is mixed. She had a Mexican who cleaned her house. But, she did not like nor did she trust Mexicans. And, one Mexican family had the nerve to move in next door to her.
Seems some people are too busy pointing fingers at others to check themselves. These same people are busy putting up a front of liberal anti-racism.
Yesterday, I heard Morgan Freeman, a black man and native of Mississippi say that there is more racism in the other parts of the country than there is in Mississippi. He said that it is more insidious. He can live anywhere in the world he wants to. He chooses to live in Mississippi.
I am also aware that racism is not confined to the south. I see racism and prejudice in the north. However, since I am a white woman, if I say that racism is worse or rampant in other parts of the country, then I am looked at as if I am denying the south's past. I am not. I remember watching grown men and women in Boston picket the integration of the schools. This was after schools in the south were integrated.
I have a friend who went with me to see John Grisham's "A Time To Kill'. In the middle of the movie, he leaned over and told me that Mississippi has a lot to make up for and that we might not overcome the past. This from a man who had not even met a black person until he joined the army. And, his grandmother had a 'Jap' who did her yard work. Apparently racism is ok if it is anywhere other the south. His mother came to visit and was surprised that my neighborhood is mixed. She had a Mexican who cleaned her house. But, she did not like nor did she trust Mexicans. And, one Mexican family had the nerve to move in next door to her.
Seems some people are too busy pointing fingers at others to check themselves. These same people are busy putting up a front of liberal anti-racism.
Yesterday, I heard Morgan Freeman, a black man and native of Mississippi say that there is more racism in the other parts of the country than there is in Mississippi. He said that it is more insidious. He can live anywhere in the world he wants to. He chooses to live in Mississippi.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
This and that......
I never in my life thought that Mike Tyson would ever say anything that would make me say……..well, yeah. He said, after sitting down on his last fight…..’You get smart too late and old too fast.’
One night last week I was listening to a discussion in a chatroom about the Doctrines of Grace. I have been studying this for a couple of years now, and was having difficulty accepting a couple of them. Then someone said, ‘if you believe the depravity of man, all the others fall into place.’ I have heard this before, but that night I really heard it. Suddenly, it did all fall into place. I am not saying that I could argue the points with someone who does not accept them, but that is ok. It is enough for me that the DOC are clear to me.
My friend is busy packing for her move to her new house at the end of the month. She has packed away the TV and dvd player and will not allow Paltalk on her computer, so I am reading a lot. Just now she came in and said… ‘this is what you want’…and brought up America Free TV Classics http://beelinetv.com/. So, now I am listening to “A Farewell To Arms’ starring Gary Cooper while I write. I just looked over the list of channels to watch and see several from the UK. This is so neat!
A friend asked me to change the colors of my blog because the red on black was hurting her eyes. I changed the background, but for some reason cannot change the red text on the old entries. But, from here on I will use dark blue as a text color. I also am going to learn how to add pictures. I know everyone is anxious to see Gumbo.
A friend of mine has just volunteered to be a ‘model’ for a young girl who is learning to do permanent cosmetics. Why does this sound scary????? I am waiting to see how it turns out. Not to have it done myself, but to see how it looks and how much I can tease my friend. I am a firm believer that laughter heals everything. It has in my life and to paraphrase Jimmy Buffett says, ‘if we didn’t laugh, we would all go insane.’
Speaking of Jimmy Buffett, I have been a Parrothead since before there were Parottheads. I used to tell people about him and then have to explain who he was. Now of course practically everyone knows him and his music. I enjoy his music for several reasons. One is that I like the way he puts words together to create images……..word pictures someone has called them. And, I like the way he sings and just the way he smiles. His smile is like……..come on ya’ll, life is meant to be fun and we need to get over ourselves and have fun.
My brother Wayne had a smile like that. He had the sort of personality that just made you want to be with him. He could laugh at himself too. I miss him so much.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Trains
Well, I made it to Chicago an hour late, which was ok, since that would make the layover wait shorter. I walked into the Metropolitan Lounge and got comfortable for what was supposed to be a two-hour wait. About ten minutes later there was an announcement for anyone on train 59 who had not gotten their dinner money to come to the desk. Seems train 59 was late getting to Chicago. It was expected to get in at 8pm, the time it was originally supposed to leave for New Orleans. Then, it would have to be cleaned, so there would not be time to cook and serve dinner. We finally left about 12:30 am. People were nice about it. No one got all upset or yelled at anyone.
I got settled in my sleeper and watched the lights of Chicago as we left, then went to sleep. The next morning we were clipping along when we suddenly made a hard stop. A few minutes later a man and a woman came walking down past the train looking at it. Then the woman pointed at the car I was in and said something. A few minutes later two men came up and pulled a mangled bumper from underneath the train. I know this is going to sound terrible, but a twisted piece of plastic just does not have the same horrific image as a twisted piece of metal. We were told the young man who tried to beat the train was seriously injured, but was alive.
I do love traveling by train. Walking from car to car without stumbling and using the toilet while rocking down the track does take some getting used to. Yesterday, I decided to take advantage of the shower since we were going to be getting in so late. That itself is an adventure. First, I had to get undressed while keeping my balance, then I had to hold on with one and while I soaped up with the other, as I kept having to hit the knob to restart the water. It was worth it though.
The toilets have lights on them that will light up if the door is locked. I knock anyway, cause you just never know. Yesterday, I went to the toilet, saw the light was out, knocked and waited, then opened the door on a old guy. I apologized and went back to my sleeper. About ten minutes later I went back, knocked and waited, then opened the door on the same little old man. I almost told him that we needed to be on a first name basis by then.
Thank goodness for Audible. If you like audiobooks, then I recommend this site. I have been preparing for my trip home for several weeks by downloading then burning books on CDs. This saves my sanity on long trips, whether I am driving or on the train.
Michael Jackson was found innocent. So, I suppose it is ok for 45 year old men to sleep in the same bed with children who are not his. Or, is it just ok if you are a celebrity?
I got settled in my sleeper and watched the lights of Chicago as we left, then went to sleep. The next morning we were clipping along when we suddenly made a hard stop. A few minutes later a man and a woman came walking down past the train looking at it. Then the woman pointed at the car I was in and said something. A few minutes later two men came up and pulled a mangled bumper from underneath the train. I know this is going to sound terrible, but a twisted piece of plastic just does not have the same horrific image as a twisted piece of metal. We were told the young man who tried to beat the train was seriously injured, but was alive.
I do love traveling by train. Walking from car to car without stumbling and using the toilet while rocking down the track does take some getting used to. Yesterday, I decided to take advantage of the shower since we were going to be getting in so late. That itself is an adventure. First, I had to get undressed while keeping my balance, then I had to hold on with one and while I soaped up with the other, as I kept having to hit the knob to restart the water. It was worth it though.
The toilets have lights on them that will light up if the door is locked. I knock anyway, cause you just never know. Yesterday, I went to the toilet, saw the light was out, knocked and waited, then opened the door on a old guy. I apologized and went back to my sleeper. About ten minutes later I went back, knocked and waited, then opened the door on the same little old man. I almost told him that we needed to be on a first name basis by then.
Thank goodness for Audible. If you like audiobooks, then I recommend this site. I have been preparing for my trip home for several weeks by downloading then burning books on CDs. This saves my sanity on long trips, whether I am driving or on the train.
Michael Jackson was found innocent. So, I suppose it is ok for 45 year old men to sleep in the same bed with children who are not his. Or, is it just ok if you are a celebrity?
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Blessed indeed......
Well, I was going to post something completely different, then something happened yesterday that changed that.
A little background here. My friend Leslie was born with a form of intersex and did not find this out till she was almost 50. (it's all there in her diary) She entered therapy and after two years made the decision to have sexual reassignment surgery. My friend did not do this frivolously. She did not do this for any reason other than she had been born with this condition.
Some people think it is wrong for me to continue to be her friend. I understand that if my friend were a professing Christian and also wanted to live the lifestyle she does, then I should leave her to Christ. But, she isn't. My friend is an atheist, that bothers me more than her lifestyle. I do not share her lifestyle. I do not join in the games. What I do is let her know through my actions that Christ is real.
My friend, as an atheist, acts more Christlike than a lot of 'Christians' I have come into contact with. Especially, the online variety.
These people who have decided to try to make my life miserable, have stepped up their silliness. Yesterday evening they came into a room I was in on a chat program and started in. One posted the link to my friend's online diary. I had already placed one on ignore, and was not paying attention to text chat. I was in PMs with an old friend from the UK. Anyway, the people in the room became upset with them and took their typing abilities away. I PMed another friend and asked what had happened and she told me.
Another thing these fake 'Christians' have done, is to read things that I have written and then made screen names on the chat program and come sit in rooms I am in. All the while telling people that they do not want to be in the same room with me. I suppose it is ok to point fingers at someone else. Maybe they think it keeps their sins hidden. That people won't see what they are doing. I know some things about a couple of them that shows they have no room to talk about someone else's sin.
I have to ask why these people are doing this? What do they hope to accomplish? To cause me to lose online friends? To make me stay away from them so they won't be tarnished by my evil presence? To protect others from me? What is the real reason they are doing these things?
They have made a screen name with my maiden name in it. A screen name with my first name in it. A screen name using my friend's name. A screen name using a word my family uses for bogeyman. Apparently they think this will somehow make me leave the chat program. It won't. I put them on ignore as soon as I realize who it is.
These people will read something that I have written, usually on my support board for exJws, decide (even though no one is named) that I was talking about them; huddle together and declare me guilty; then spend quite a bit of time telling people how evil I am.
So, let me say now...IF YOU READ SOMETHING I WRITE AND YOU THINK THAT I AM TALKING ABOUT YOU, YOU NEED TO CHECK YOURSELF. Ok, now, that should do it. You are not the most important person in the world and people are not spending time talking about you.
Lately, I have seen how true friends are. This has made me treasure the friends who have stood by me and the new friends I have made during this. I have seen friends insulted for remaining my friend. They have been hurt and shunned (seems some people hang on to parts of the Jw practices). And, all this because they simply chose to not listen to these people. Or, they have listened and still remain friends with me.
I am blessed indeed.
A little background here. My friend Leslie was born with a form of intersex and did not find this out till she was almost 50. (it's all there in her diary) She entered therapy and after two years made the decision to have sexual reassignment surgery. My friend did not do this frivolously. She did not do this for any reason other than she had been born with this condition.
Some people think it is wrong for me to continue to be her friend. I understand that if my friend were a professing Christian and also wanted to live the lifestyle she does, then I should leave her to Christ. But, she isn't. My friend is an atheist, that bothers me more than her lifestyle. I do not share her lifestyle. I do not join in the games. What I do is let her know through my actions that Christ is real.
My friend, as an atheist, acts more Christlike than a lot of 'Christians' I have come into contact with. Especially, the online variety.
These people who have decided to try to make my life miserable, have stepped up their silliness. Yesterday evening they came into a room I was in on a chat program and started in. One posted the link to my friend's online diary. I had already placed one on ignore, and was not paying attention to text chat. I was in PMs with an old friend from the UK. Anyway, the people in the room became upset with them and took their typing abilities away. I PMed another friend and asked what had happened and she told me.
Another thing these fake 'Christians' have done, is to read things that I have written and then made screen names on the chat program and come sit in rooms I am in. All the while telling people that they do not want to be in the same room with me. I suppose it is ok to point fingers at someone else. Maybe they think it keeps their sins hidden. That people won't see what they are doing. I know some things about a couple of them that shows they have no room to talk about someone else's sin.
I have to ask why these people are doing this? What do they hope to accomplish? To cause me to lose online friends? To make me stay away from them so they won't be tarnished by my evil presence? To protect others from me? What is the real reason they are doing these things?
They have made a screen name with my maiden name in it. A screen name with my first name in it. A screen name using my friend's name. A screen name using a word my family uses for bogeyman. Apparently they think this will somehow make me leave the chat program. It won't. I put them on ignore as soon as I realize who it is.
These people will read something that I have written, usually on my support board for exJws, decide (even though no one is named) that I was talking about them; huddle together and declare me guilty; then spend quite a bit of time telling people how evil I am.
So, let me say now...IF YOU READ SOMETHING I WRITE AND YOU THINK THAT I AM TALKING ABOUT YOU, YOU NEED TO CHECK YOURSELF. Ok, now, that should do it. You are not the most important person in the world and people are not spending time talking about you.
Lately, I have seen how true friends are. This has made me treasure the friends who have stood by me and the new friends I have made during this. I have seen friends insulted for remaining my friend. They have been hurt and shunned (seems some people hang on to parts of the Jw practices). And, all this because they simply chose to not listen to these people. Or, they have listened and still remain friends with me.
I am blessed indeed.
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Life.....
I woke up today in a very good mood. I am leaving Michigan tomorrow for home.....home is Gulfport, Ms. I was not even worried about the tropical storm that might be a hurricane by the time it hits this afternoon. Life is good for me right now. I am writing and getting positive feedback from the people who are reading it, AND, yesterday I got an email from h2g2 telling me that something I submitted for the guide last summer was accepted. It is just a paragraph on how to make sweet tea, but it is now permanently in the Guide.
Then, I turned on CNN. I knew that the girl from Alabama was most likely dead, but I was still hoping and praying that she would be found unhurt. Now, one of the suspects says 'something bad happened'. This is so sad. It takes a bit of my joy away, thinking about what those parents are going through now. The past two weeks have been horrible, but I don't think it can compare to their anguish now.
Then, I turned on CNN. I knew that the girl from Alabama was most likely dead, but I was still hoping and praying that she would be found unhurt. Now, one of the suspects says 'something bad happened'. This is so sad. It takes a bit of my joy away, thinking about what those parents are going through now. The past two weeks have been horrible, but I don't think it can compare to their anguish now.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Jerry Springer anyone??
I hate the way the television and movies have become. Why do we need to see explicit sex? Do we watch the neighbors? No........well, I don't anyway. And, why do we need to see someone blown to bloody bits and pieces? How does this enhance our viewing enjoyment? And, television.......TOO many reality shows. Remember when we went to movies and watched TV as a ESCAPE? Today we have the horrors of the world and then the horrors of the movies. A friend of mine has the opinion that it is because AIDES has killed all the people with any imagination and creativity in the entertainment industry. I won't go that far, but good lord, something should be done.
God, the bible and Christianity are being trashed more and more, especially on television. We have the option to turn off the TV or change channels of course and I do. At the same time, the Quran is given reverence and protection.
There is a radio station in Detroit that does something they call The War of the Roses. I am waiting for someone to be beaten up or killed over it. Here is the premise.......someone has a problem with someone else. A girl thinks her boyfriend is cheating, etc. The DJs call the person and say they are a new florist and that if the person answers two questions she/he will get a dozen roses sent to anyone they want to for free. That way if the suspected person IS fooling around and sends the roses to someone else, they will be busted. Today a man called in to say that the nosy old woman who lives next door keeps telling him that several cars are always parked in his driveway while he was at work. He said that he and his wife had laughed about her being crazy etc. BUT, he was suspicious because he has called home during the day and gets no answer. So, the DJs called her and she sends the roses to her mother. The guy apologized and said he felt foolish. His wife was upset and a little defensive sounding. I thought she sounded like she was mad at being put on the spot on the radio, in her hometown. So, time passes and the DJs don't STOP. They have updates and play the recording of the call over and over. They talk by phone to the husband and report that he has not been able to reach his wife by phone. And, they are insinuating that she is lying and want people to call in and give their opinions. Can we say trash radio? The poor man is persuaded to call the radio station tomorrow to give them and the listening public an update. Lord help us. We are living in a Jerry Springer world.
Now, here is my question. What responsibility does the radio station and the DJs have if there is a divorce or worse still, if someone is so angry they kill themself or the spouse? I think the people who call in are totally stupid to do it. But, you can tell that the DJs are pushing it as hard as they can. Casting doubts. Are you surrrrrrre? If a person is already suspicious, how does this help? Of course it is just entertainment, or so they say, but think of what could be the outcome one day. Someone just might decide to take out the DJs too. Hummmm......
Maybe Leslie is right. Maybe there is no creative people left.
God, the bible and Christianity are being trashed more and more, especially on television. We have the option to turn off the TV or change channels of course and I do. At the same time, the Quran is given reverence and protection.
There is a radio station in Detroit that does something they call The War of the Roses. I am waiting for someone to be beaten up or killed over it. Here is the premise.......someone has a problem with someone else. A girl thinks her boyfriend is cheating, etc. The DJs call the person and say they are a new florist and that if the person answers two questions she/he will get a dozen roses sent to anyone they want to for free. That way if the suspected person IS fooling around and sends the roses to someone else, they will be busted. Today a man called in to say that the nosy old woman who lives next door keeps telling him that several cars are always parked in his driveway while he was at work. He said that he and his wife had laughed about her being crazy etc. BUT, he was suspicious because he has called home during the day and gets no answer. So, the DJs called her and she sends the roses to her mother. The guy apologized and said he felt foolish. His wife was upset and a little defensive sounding. I thought she sounded like she was mad at being put on the spot on the radio, in her hometown. So, time passes and the DJs don't STOP. They have updates and play the recording of the call over and over. They talk by phone to the husband and report that he has not been able to reach his wife by phone. And, they are insinuating that she is lying and want people to call in and give their opinions. Can we say trash radio? The poor man is persuaded to call the radio station tomorrow to give them and the listening public an update. Lord help us. We are living in a Jerry Springer world.
Now, here is my question. What responsibility does the radio station and the DJs have if there is a divorce or worse still, if someone is so angry they kill themself or the spouse? I think the people who call in are totally stupid to do it. But, you can tell that the DJs are pushing it as hard as they can. Casting doubts. Are you surrrrrrre? If a person is already suspicious, how does this help? Of course it is just entertainment, or so they say, but think of what could be the outcome one day. Someone just might decide to take out the DJs too. Hummmm......
Maybe Leslie is right. Maybe there is no creative people left.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
And.....
Last Monday my friend Leslie came home from her swimming time and found her front door kicked in. She was afraid whoever had done it were still inside so she went to the apartment complex office to call the police. Apparently someone had been watching her place because the UPS man had just tried to deliver a package and had left a note on the door. That was about fifteen minutes before Leslie came home. They stole a digital camera, a portable DVD player and 1600 dollars. She is scared now. Seems even Gulfport is getting worse.
Leslie is in the process of buying a house and is anxious to move now. I think it is going to take some time for her to feel safe again.
I was thinking about this last night. Are there degrees of sin? Is one sin worse than another? People are going ballistic and organizing to stop same sex marriages. I agree that homosexuality is a sin. It is clearly talked about as such in the scripture. But, is anyone organizing against adultry? How about your good friend who is having sex with a person they are not married to. People say that same sex marriages are an attack against the union of marriage. Isn't adultry and fornication also an attack against the union of marriage? Was homosexuality included in the Ten Commandments? I sometimes think that the people who scream the loudest are trying to hide their own sins from the public.
Leslie is in the process of buying a house and is anxious to move now. I think it is going to take some time for her to feel safe again.
I was thinking about this last night. Are there degrees of sin? Is one sin worse than another? People are going ballistic and organizing to stop same sex marriages. I agree that homosexuality is a sin. It is clearly talked about as such in the scripture. But, is anyone organizing against adultry? How about your good friend who is having sex with a person they are not married to. People say that same sex marriages are an attack against the union of marriage. Isn't adultry and fornication also an attack against the union of marriage? Was homosexuality included in the Ten Commandments? I sometimes think that the people who scream the loudest are trying to hide their own sins from the public.
Untitled......
I remember exactly when my childhood ended. It ended when my brother told me how long summer was. Until then I lived in a dreamy, sunshiney world of limitless days of playing.
My brother and I were the youngest of five and were very close. We were always together. My mother never called just one of us, it was always 'wayneandann', like we were one kid. We fought together and played togther. We fought each other's battles, no matter who was in the right. I wrote plays and we acted them out. We tormented our older brothers. We lied for each other. He got scared at the horror movies, not me. I made fun of him.
We spent all day once trying to find the footprints of the man, or monster, who knocked the screen off the window next to his bed. He woke up screaming...daddy, daddy, somebody's at my window. Turned out that one of the horses had knocked the screen off and nuzzled him in the face. Everyone started laughing at him so we got mad and set out to prove that it was not a horse. I could laugh at him, but no one else could.
My mother moved us a lot. Not from town to town, but house to house in the same small town. My brother and I buried time capsules in each yard, always positive that we would come back to dig them up when we grew up. I wonder sometimes if any were ever found.
He told my mother that he thought I needed to start wearing a bra. I strutted my stuff in that bra, though it was probably a double ought nothing.
He told me how awesome sex was and that I should try it.
He told me what to say to boys who insulted me. Say, not hit.
He told me which boys were good enough to date, and which were stupid.
The first time I read To Kill A Mockingbird, my brother was in the Army, stationed in Germany. I stopped reading in the middle of the book to write to him about it, telling him to get the book and read it. The day after I mailed the letter, I got one from him. There was a P.S. telling me that I had to get this great book, because it reminded him of us.
Somehow, when I am afraid or panicky about something, if I put my fingers in my ears, I can cope. Once, when I had to have blood drawn and only had one hand free, he came over and pressed my head into his stomach to help muffle sound.
He hated his name, Donald Wayne and I hated mine, Barbara Ann. So, of course, he was always Donald Wayne to me and I was Barbara Ann to him. Anyone else who dared call us by those hated names were either hit or ignored.
On July 12th, 2000, Donald Wayne called me to tell me that he had been diagnosed with cancer. He died July 19th, 2000. I was not able to get to him in time. The last thing he said to me was, hurry and get here, Barbara Ann, I really want to see you. The last thing I said to him was, I love you Donald Wayne.
I can now tell you exactly when my past disappeared. There is no one left who knows all the secrets. No one to sit and remember-when with. No one who laughs at 'tick-a-lock-all-way-round.
One of the saddest and proudest moments I ever had was when Donald Wayne's youngest son told me I was just like daddy.
My brother and I were the youngest of five and were very close. We were always together. My mother never called just one of us, it was always 'wayneandann', like we were one kid. We fought together and played togther. We fought each other's battles, no matter who was in the right. I wrote plays and we acted them out. We tormented our older brothers. We lied for each other. He got scared at the horror movies, not me. I made fun of him.
We spent all day once trying to find the footprints of the man, or monster, who knocked the screen off the window next to his bed. He woke up screaming...daddy, daddy, somebody's at my window. Turned out that one of the horses had knocked the screen off and nuzzled him in the face. Everyone started laughing at him so we got mad and set out to prove that it was not a horse. I could laugh at him, but no one else could.
My mother moved us a lot. Not from town to town, but house to house in the same small town. My brother and I buried time capsules in each yard, always positive that we would come back to dig them up when we grew up. I wonder sometimes if any were ever found.
He told my mother that he thought I needed to start wearing a bra. I strutted my stuff in that bra, though it was probably a double ought nothing.
He told me how awesome sex was and that I should try it.
He told me what to say to boys who insulted me. Say, not hit.
He told me which boys were good enough to date, and which were stupid.
The first time I read To Kill A Mockingbird, my brother was in the Army, stationed in Germany. I stopped reading in the middle of the book to write to him about it, telling him to get the book and read it. The day after I mailed the letter, I got one from him. There was a P.S. telling me that I had to get this great book, because it reminded him of us.
Somehow, when I am afraid or panicky about something, if I put my fingers in my ears, I can cope. Once, when I had to have blood drawn and only had one hand free, he came over and pressed my head into his stomach to help muffle sound.
He hated his name, Donald Wayne and I hated mine, Barbara Ann. So, of course, he was always Donald Wayne to me and I was Barbara Ann to him. Anyone else who dared call us by those hated names were either hit or ignored.
On July 12th, 2000, Donald Wayne called me to tell me that he had been diagnosed with cancer. He died July 19th, 2000. I was not able to get to him in time. The last thing he said to me was, hurry and get here, Barbara Ann, I really want to see you. The last thing I said to him was, I love you Donald Wayne.
I can now tell you exactly when my past disappeared. There is no one left who knows all the secrets. No one to sit and remember-when with. No one who laughs at 'tick-a-lock-all-way-round.
One of the saddest and proudest moments I ever had was when Donald Wayne's youngest son told me I was just like daddy.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Bits and pieces.........
It is just about time for me to head south again. I will leave Sunday and will get to New Orleans on Monday. I will be going by train and I love trains. I am planning a trip from Chicago to Seattle to San Diego to New Orleans. The only time I will be off the train is when I have layovers. And, if they are like the layover in Chicago, it will be fun. There is just enough time to take the shuttle around the city and if you are feeling brave, you can go the the Museum of Natural History. I was in Chicago for a week several years ago and was surprised at how friendly the people are.
I am really looking forward to my summer. I will be driving with a friend to Maine. We will stop along the way to search for fossils and just to take pictures. I am really looking forward to spending time on the coast of Maine looking for fossils there. If time permits I am going to try to talk my friend (she will be driving) to drive across New York into Canada.
In September I will come back to Michigan for another winter. Hopefully, my last winter here. I think I would like it better here if my daughter did not live so close to Detroit. Which reminds me...I am still totally blown away at the attitude of the majority of the parents of my grandsons' friends. The rule with us is, on school nights, anyone who does not live here has to be gone by 7:30pm. My grandsons have a 9pm bedtime. Some of the kids had a hard time with the 7:30 rule. One boy has an 8:30 curfew and a 9pm bedtime. When does he have any time with his parents? People have the attitude too that nothing will happen to their kids, even with the kidnappings and murders of children that have been in the news. Since I am the one here enforcing the 7:30 curfew while my daughter is at school, I am not the most popular person in the neighborhood.
Sometimes, actually, more often than not, Christians amaze me with their hypocrisy. Well, some Christians. I have some friends who are awesome, but then there are others who point fingers at other people, I think, to stop anyone from looking at them. It's as if they can hide their sins by exposing another's sins.
I am really looking forward to my summer. I will be driving with a friend to Maine. We will stop along the way to search for fossils and just to take pictures. I am really looking forward to spending time on the coast of Maine looking for fossils there. If time permits I am going to try to talk my friend (she will be driving) to drive across New York into Canada.
In September I will come back to Michigan for another winter. Hopefully, my last winter here. I think I would like it better here if my daughter did not live so close to Detroit. Which reminds me...I am still totally blown away at the attitude of the majority of the parents of my grandsons' friends. The rule with us is, on school nights, anyone who does not live here has to be gone by 7:30pm. My grandsons have a 9pm bedtime. Some of the kids had a hard time with the 7:30 rule. One boy has an 8:30 curfew and a 9pm bedtime. When does he have any time with his parents? People have the attitude too that nothing will happen to their kids, even with the kidnappings and murders of children that have been in the news. Since I am the one here enforcing the 7:30 curfew while my daughter is at school, I am not the most popular person in the neighborhood.
Sometimes, actually, more often than not, Christians amaze me with their hypocrisy. Well, some Christians. I have some friends who are awesome, but then there are others who point fingers at other people, I think, to stop anyone from looking at them. It's as if they can hide their sins by exposing another's sins.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Power of Forgiveness
I personally believe that I need to forgive whoever has offended me, for MY peace.
My mother and I did not have a good relationship. My sisters-in-law were never on good terms with her either. It got to be that whenever we were together one of us would drag out the list of 'things mammaw has done' and hash it over and add to it. I finally grew up. I prayed and what kept coming into my mind was 'forgive her'. Finally, I called her and told her that I wanted her forgiveness and that I forgave her everything. I told her that she did not have to own up to anything, but just know that I forgave her.
Then, a funny thing happened. I started FORGETTING things she had done. When I was with my sisters-in-law, and they would start and say...'you remember that'...I honestly had forgotten it. I would remember it when they brought it up, but it did not affect me the way it had before. I was able to take care of my mother without getting upset with her. So, waiting for someone to apologize to you before you forgive them is ok in some situations I suppose. But, I have learned, or have been shown, that forgiveness heals ME.
My mother and I did not have a good relationship. My sisters-in-law were never on good terms with her either. It got to be that whenever we were together one of us would drag out the list of 'things mammaw has done' and hash it over and add to it. I finally grew up. I prayed and what kept coming into my mind was 'forgive her'. Finally, I called her and told her that I wanted her forgiveness and that I forgave her everything. I told her that she did not have to own up to anything, but just know that I forgave her.
Then, a funny thing happened. I started FORGETTING things she had done. When I was with my sisters-in-law, and they would start and say...'you remember that'...I honestly had forgotten it. I would remember it when they brought it up, but it did not affect me the way it had before. I was able to take care of my mother without getting upset with her. So, waiting for someone to apologize to you before you forgive them is ok in some situations I suppose. But, I have learned, or have been shown, that forgiveness heals ME.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Snow and..........
I spent a lot of years wanting to live where there are four definite seasons. I wanted SNOW. I wanted to walk in snow. Make a snowman. Sit in front of a fire and watch the snow come down. This year I got my wish. And, I learned something.....snow is not special when it happens everyday.
When it snows on the Mississippi Coast......THAT is magical. Walking through the sand while the snow comes down......THAT is magical.
Holding on to my dignity while I try to negotiate icy steps is not magical...it is comedic.
Is there anything more forlorn that a pair of swans standing on the ice in the middle of a frozen pond?
I spent many years being afraid of my mother. People thought we were extremely close because I am the youngest and the only girl. It was a weird situation. I was afraid of her, but I did not want to be away from her.
When I was nineteen, I finally began to understand and separate the fear from the love. That was the first time my mother openly attempted suicide in front of me. I used to find suicide notes stuck in my books. I always kept books I loved and would re-read them. By the time I found a note, she would be over whatever it was. Nothing was ever said. Talk about a surreal life. This night she was upset because I had gone out with a group of friends......and one boy that I was interested in.......there was a fender bender so it was about 12:30am when I got home. My mother flew at me in a rage (sounds trite, but that is exactly how it was). Then she went into the kitchen and started swallowing pills. At that time we lived just across the street from someone she worked with who she admired. I started to go across and ask the woman for help, and my mother went totally crazy, crying and holding the door so I could not go out. BUT, it was only because she did not want any outsider to know. This was the epiphany for me. My mother was doing this for attention, nothing more. I stood there...stunned... looking at her, She went into the bathroom and made herself throw up.
Later, for the first time ever, I talked to my oldest brother's wife about it. That is when I found out that my mother had done this often. Apparently she used to say she was going to drown herself. Or, take pills. It is almost certain that I heard this from the time I was an infant. People will do and say anything in front of babies and small children. They think if babies can't understand the words,they won't understand the emotions. Then afterwards, when everything is relatively okay, nothing is said, because if you don't give voice to it then it just goes away.
I understand why my mother was the way she was. She spent her life filled with guilt for surviving the car/train wreck that killed her family. My mother was fourteen when the car her family was riding in was hit by the mail train. The last thing she remembered is telling her four-year old brother that if he did not sit still the man in the train would get him. He lived four hours. Her mother, father and sister were killed instantly.
When it snows on the Mississippi Coast......THAT is magical. Walking through the sand while the snow comes down......THAT is magical.
Holding on to my dignity while I try to negotiate icy steps is not magical...it is comedic.
Is there anything more forlorn that a pair of swans standing on the ice in the middle of a frozen pond?
I spent many years being afraid of my mother. People thought we were extremely close because I am the youngest and the only girl. It was a weird situation. I was afraid of her, but I did not want to be away from her.
When I was nineteen, I finally began to understand and separate the fear from the love. That was the first time my mother openly attempted suicide in front of me. I used to find suicide notes stuck in my books. I always kept books I loved and would re-read them. By the time I found a note, she would be over whatever it was. Nothing was ever said. Talk about a surreal life. This night she was upset because I had gone out with a group of friends......and one boy that I was interested in.......there was a fender bender so it was about 12:30am when I got home. My mother flew at me in a rage (sounds trite, but that is exactly how it was). Then she went into the kitchen and started swallowing pills. At that time we lived just across the street from someone she worked with who she admired. I started to go across and ask the woman for help, and my mother went totally crazy, crying and holding the door so I could not go out. BUT, it was only because she did not want any outsider to know. This was the epiphany for me. My mother was doing this for attention, nothing more. I stood there...stunned... looking at her, She went into the bathroom and made herself throw up.
Later, for the first time ever, I talked to my oldest brother's wife about it. That is when I found out that my mother had done this often. Apparently she used to say she was going to drown herself. Or, take pills. It is almost certain that I heard this from the time I was an infant. People will do and say anything in front of babies and small children. They think if babies can't understand the words,they won't understand the emotions. Then afterwards, when everything is relatively okay, nothing is said, because if you don't give voice to it then it just goes away.
I understand why my mother was the way she was. She spent her life filled with guilt for surviving the car/train wreck that killed her family. My mother was fourteen when the car her family was riding in was hit by the mail train. The last thing she remembered is telling her four-year old brother that if he did not sit still the man in the train would get him. He lived four hours. Her mother, father and sister were killed instantly.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
It's not that bad....
It's not that bad. The dye is done, and it is permanent too. Why did I not get the rinse instead? What possessed me to get RED? I look like a milk jug half buried in a red clay hill in Georgia. Good lord. And, while my grandson is laughing, my daughter searches for something to say, something that will make me feel better while I am thinking of the look on my dentist's face. She struggles to keep her smile from turning into an outright laugh. Finally, she says, it's not that bad.
Four words that let you know that you will be getting what-in-the-world-was-she-thinking looks till this either grows out or you get another color to try to tone down the neon.
I just got back from getting yet another color for my hair. I was going to wait, but while I was at Target with the boys, the younger one came up to me laughing. Said he had found me by my hair. So, I got a dark brown. And, this all started because I was talked into blond highlights that just hollered BLOND! Oh well.
Had my last visit to the dental clinic today. I go back in September after I come back up here. I like my little dentist.
Not much happening....just getting ready to head south next week.
Four words that let you know that you will be getting what-in-the-world-was-she-thinking looks till this either grows out or you get another color to try to tone down the neon.
I just got back from getting yet another color for my hair. I was going to wait, but while I was at Target with the boys, the younger one came up to me laughing. Said he had found me by my hair. So, I got a dark brown. And, this all started because I was talked into blond highlights that just hollered BLOND! Oh well.
Had my last visit to the dental clinic today. I go back in September after I come back up here. I like my little dentist.
Not much happening....just getting ready to head south next week.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
No assurance or peace
My mother died in March of 2001. She was a pentacostal until she was 30ish. Then, became a JW. There were definite changes in her personality and how she looked at life after the was baptized JW. She was more distrustful of others. She looked for the worse in people. She became a very hateful person as she got older.
She had six children, five who lived, and fifteen grandchildren. Some of her grandchildren did not know her because she had done so many things to alienate everyone. She lived in Pascagoula, right in the middle of everyone, but no one visited often. She never admitted to doing anything wrong. She would point fingers at other people who were doing exactly what she was doing, with a holier-than-thou attitude. She did some very cruel things to each of us. The only way to deal with her was to forgive her daily. And, we did.
In 1997 she had a stroke and had to go into a nursing home. She was STILL hateful. She had several heartattacks, and each time we thought was the last. The week before Christmas in 2000, she was rushed to the hospital with pneumonia which brought on another heartattack. She spent three days in ICU and then another week on a ward. In January she was taken back to ICU with unstable blood pressure. In February she back in the hospital. It was during that visit that she overheard the doctor telling me that there was nothing more that could be done for her. Her heart was too big and was just worn out. Later that night my mother started thrashing around in the bed, breathing hard and was cold and sweaty. She kept shaking her finger at me as if she wanted to say something, but could not bring herself to. I kept telling her to tell me what was wrong. That nothing she could say could be as bad as the thought of it was making her. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, she looked at me and said......'I did the best I could.' I knew that this was as close as she would ever be to asking forgiveness. I told her we all knew she had done the best she could for us,,,,despite everything, I knew she had had a hellasious life. I sat with her and talked until she relaxed and was able to sleep. She died two weeks later.
This is the 'security' a JW has. My mother was terrified thinking of dying and thinking that she had not done enough. She was terrified of what she was facing. She did not believe that she could get comfort by believing in Jesus and asking Him for peace.
She had six children, five who lived, and fifteen grandchildren. Some of her grandchildren did not know her because she had done so many things to alienate everyone. She lived in Pascagoula, right in the middle of everyone, but no one visited often. She never admitted to doing anything wrong. She would point fingers at other people who were doing exactly what she was doing, with a holier-than-thou attitude. She did some very cruel things to each of us. The only way to deal with her was to forgive her daily. And, we did.
In 1997 she had a stroke and had to go into a nursing home. She was STILL hateful. She had several heartattacks, and each time we thought was the last. The week before Christmas in 2000, she was rushed to the hospital with pneumonia which brought on another heartattack. She spent three days in ICU and then another week on a ward. In January she was taken back to ICU with unstable blood pressure. In February she back in the hospital. It was during that visit that she overheard the doctor telling me that there was nothing more that could be done for her. Her heart was too big and was just worn out. Later that night my mother started thrashing around in the bed, breathing hard and was cold and sweaty. She kept shaking her finger at me as if she wanted to say something, but could not bring herself to. I kept telling her to tell me what was wrong. That nothing she could say could be as bad as the thought of it was making her. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, she looked at me and said......'I did the best I could.' I knew that this was as close as she would ever be to asking forgiveness. I told her we all knew she had done the best she could for us,,,,despite everything, I knew she had had a hellasious life. I sat with her and talked until she relaxed and was able to sleep. She died two weeks later.
This is the 'security' a JW has. My mother was terrified thinking of dying and thinking that she had not done enough. She was terrified of what she was facing. She did not believe that she could get comfort by believing in Jesus and asking Him for peace.
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