| General Fiction posted October 17, 2010 | Chapters: |
...14 15 -16- 17 
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If only I could tell you ......
A chapter in the book Our Family
Believe in Your Tomorrows
by Begin Again
Whispers to a child Contest Winner
Psst ... Hey you, the tomboy sitting high in the tree, the girl with the scruffy ponytail. Yeah, I'm talking to you. I saw you writing in that notebook of yours, afraid to let anyone else see your thoughts. It's okay. As a matter of fact, it's more than okay; it's perfect. Your imagination and ability to express yourself in stories will someday be more than just an escape; it will bring pleasure to many, including yourself.
Saw you down at the river yesterday. Pretty brave putting those disgusting worms on your fishing hook. Even saw that glow in your eye as you wiped your hands off on your blue jeans, just like Dad. I also saw your small fingers swat away the tear brimming in the corner of your eye when Dad and your big brother laughed themselves silly at the tiny crappie you caught. I didn't see either of them taking home the "catch of the day." Right then and there, I knew if given a chance, I would have a long, long chat with you.
Now I know you're probably already scolding yourself for daydreaming, but listen to me, life's going to deliver you some raw deals, and you need to start right now believing in yourself and who you are. You are never going to be the little boy Dad wanted. He's never going to appreciate the terrific daughter God chose to bless him and your mother with. Learning that lesson now will save you tons and tons of heartache.
Okay, so maybe you are too young to comprehend why someone wouldn't love you for who you are, accept and appreciate your talents instead of wishing for something else. Heck, I'm 62 and still struggling every day with that one.
I stole a peek at a few of your stories in your journal. I know, I know. It's not polite to pry into someone's personal diary, but since technically we are one and the same, I considered it my writing too. I'd forgotten how creative and inspirational you are and how much love you carry in your heart for everyone, even those who hurt you.
You try to act tough when Mommy yells at you. Broad shoulders and thick skin when she tells you that you'll never be good enough for Daddy. When you secretly swear under your breath at her, calling her a sick, crazy lady, I know that deep down inside, you are afraid she might be right. I wish I could make you understand that when you become an adult and have children of your own, you'll discover Mommy was fighting her own battles with illness and Daddy, and unfortunately, didn't know how to make you understand. In time, she will become your best friend, your companion, and will stand in battle at your side, regardless of the cost to her.
One of my biggest regrets is not showing you what a strong person you are becoming because of who and what you are, not because of Daddy. When you lie in bed at night, rubbing those welts the belt left and wondering why you're so stupid, I wish I could dry your tears and tell you that this too will pass. You will never forget the pain, but you will remember the injustice when you reprimand your own children.
Your determination to shine in your father's eyes will be the foundation for your scholastic achievements. I wish I could prepare you for the crushing blow Daddy will deliver when you proudly hand him your final report card. He'll take one look at all the A's while you patiently stand there awaiting his atta-girl praise, and then, without any hesitation, he'll cruelly demand to know why they weren't A-pluses. It's going to hurt like hell. After you pick yourself up, dust off the disbelief, you're going to walk away. At first, you're going to be focused on your failure to please him, but somewhere deeply seeded in your mind, a small voice will encourage you to believe in yourself. It's going to take a lifetime to disconnect your successes and his lack of encouragement totally, but each day you'll move forward, and that's a success in its self.
Of course, adopting the "I'll show you" attitude isn't going to be the easiest road traveled either. When the first young man sweeps you off your feet and promises you the good life, you're going to snatch the chance in a heartbeat. Clinging to those rose-colored glasses, you'll convince yourself things couldn't get any worse. When dreamboat turns into steamboat and life gets rocky, don't put on the blinders. Living in hell to show Daddy that you didn't make a mistake will be one of the biggest errors in your life. Ignoring his faults and whitewashing the situation will cost you and your children a lifetime of pain and sorrow. Daddy's motto of "making your bed and lying in it" does not apply to this situation. Listen to your heart. Trust in yourself. Walk away before it's too late.
When faced with raising a "special needs" child as a single parent, don't hang your head and ask what you did wrong. Instead, believe in yourself and expect others to carry their own blame. Take pride in every achievement you and your son obtain, regardless of how small. When the medical society shakes their head and gives little hope, stare them in the eyes and tell them they're wrong. You don't know it now, but you will have the strength to endure, and every success will be a moment you will never forget.
Life has a funny way of throwing curves and hardballs when you least expect it. You're going to meet another man who will love you with all his heart until both of you are faced with the darkest moment in either of your lives ... the death of a son. From that moment, neither of your lives will ever be the same. You will believe that it is your sole responsibility to protect and care for your family, to lead them through the pain and sorrow. I want to stand on the highest mountain and scream at the top of my lungs, so you hear this, even if you hear nothing else. Grieve and grieve hard. If you do not allow yourself to feel the loss, your wound will never heal. Caring for others and helping them move forward doesn't make your pain disappear. It will be lurking nearby, waiting to emerge and drag you down when you least expect it. You'll stand in the bathroom, gazing into the mirror, and tell yourself it's your job, your duty to care about your family. You're right, but who's going to care about you, especially when you don't?
Somewhere down the line, your grief and his lack of understanding will leave you alone again. You'll go through a lot of weary days and torturous nights wondering why. Only God has that answer, and he's not about to share it with you or anyone else at the moment. Beating yourself up over it won't make it right either.
By now, you will know and understand your life's pattern. You take some hard knocks, get hit and stumble to the ground, but you'll always find the strength hidden deep inside to stand tall and begin again. Over the next fifteen years, you will work sixteen-hour days, sometimes longer, making a living for your family. You won't complain. You'll beat the odds and earn the respect of hundreds of people in the corporate field. Though a part of you will still be waiting for that pat on the back from Dad, you'll know it's not coming, and that's a step in the right direction. I can't tell you his lack of pride won't hurt because it will, but I can tell you others will see the strong woman you have become. They will recognize and appreciate the real you. You'll have successfully put your children through college, taught them to be strong and independent, and given them what you've been missing in life ... love and respect. Knowing that the mighty dollar is desirable but not the foundation for happiness will be your legacy to them.
When you sign your name on the dotted line, officially becoming a senior citizen collecting social security, sit back and remember the good things, regardless of how small they may have been. Clear off those dusty files in your mind and know that you did the best you could. Be proud of who you are!
You'll find that life has come full circle, and now it's your turn to care for your parents. One day, you'll shake your head and wonder why you couldn't see how hard your mother was struggling and feel bad about those cursed words you smothered. The good part is she never heard them, and even if she had, she'd understand. After all, she's lived 63 years under the thumb of the man you tried so hard to please.
I want to tell you your father will have mellowed, but unfortunately, he will have become a bitter and unhappy man. Warning you about his disregard for anyone's feelings seems redundant at this point of your life, but after all, he is your father. Knowing his faults won't soften the pain when he tells you how worthless you have been since childhood. Instead, I'll rely on your resilience and faith in yourself to get through this one. Stand tall and remember he's not walked in your shoes, faced your pain, or fought your battles. You did that on your own and lived to see another day. Knowing you as I do, you'll feel pity for the man who will never really know the wonderful daughter God gave to him.
Before I go, I want to leave you with one last thought, something to get you through all the rough spots you'll have to face during your lifetime.
Grab those lemons and turn them into lemonade, and then raise a glass in recognition of who you are ... a woman who isn't afraid to begin again.
Psst ... Hey you, the tomboy sitting high in the tree, the girl with the scruffy ponytail. Yeah, I'm talking to you. I saw you writing in that notebook of yours, afraid to let anyone else see your thoughts. It's okay. As a matter of fact, it's more than okay; it's perfect. Your imagination and ability to express yourself in stories will someday be more than just an escape; it will bring pleasure to many, including yourself.
Saw you down at the river yesterday. Pretty brave putting those disgusting worms on your fishing hook. Even saw that glow in your eye as you wiped your hands off on your blue jeans, just like Dad. I also saw your small fingers swat away the tear brimming in the corner of your eye when Dad and your big brother laughed themselves silly at the tiny crappie you caught. I didn't see either of them taking home the "catch of the day." Right then and there, I knew if given a chance, I would have a long, long chat with you.
Now I know you're probably already scolding yourself for daydreaming, but listen to me, life's going to deliver you some raw deals, and you need to start right now believing in yourself and who you are. You are never going to be the little boy Dad wanted. He's never going to appreciate the terrific daughter God chose to bless him and your mother with. Learning that lesson now will save you tons and tons of heartache.
Okay, so maybe you are too young to comprehend why someone wouldn't love you for who you are, accept and appreciate your talents instead of wishing for something else. Heck, I'm 62 and still struggling every day with that one.
I stole a peek at a few of your stories in your journal. I know, I know. It's not polite to pry into someone's personal diary, but since technically we are one and the same, I considered it my writing too. I'd forgotten how creative and inspirational you are and how much love you carry in your heart for everyone, even those who hurt you.
You try to act tough when Mommy yells at you. Broad shoulders and thick skin when she tells you that you'll never be good enough for Daddy. When you secretly swear under your breath at her, calling her a sick, crazy lady, I know that deep down inside, you are afraid she might be right. I wish I could make you understand that when you become an adult and have children of your own, you'll discover Mommy was fighting her own battles with illness and Daddy, and unfortunately, didn't know how to make you understand. In time, she will become your best friend, your companion, and will stand in battle at your side, regardless of the cost to her.
One of my biggest regrets is not showing you what a strong person you are becoming because of who and what you are, not because of Daddy. When you lie in bed at night, rubbing those welts the belt left and wondering why you're so stupid, I wish I could dry your tears and tell you that this too will pass. You will never forget the pain, but you will remember the injustice when you reprimand your own children.
Your determination to shine in your father's eyes will be the foundation for your scholastic achievements. I wish I could prepare you for the crushing blow Daddy will deliver when you proudly hand him your final report card. He'll take one look at all the A's while you patiently stand there awaiting his atta-girl praise, and then, without any hesitation, he'll cruelly demand to know why they weren't A-pluses. It's going to hurt like hell. After you pick yourself up, dust off the disbelief, you're going to walk away. At first, you're going to be focused on your failure to please him, but somewhere deeply seeded in your mind, a small voice will encourage you to believe in yourself. It's going to take a lifetime to disconnect your successes and his lack of encouragement totally, but each day you'll move forward, and that's a success in its self.
Of course, adopting the "I'll show you" attitude isn't going to be the easiest road traveled either. When the first young man sweeps you off your feet and promises you the good life, you're going to snatch the chance in a heartbeat. Clinging to those rose-colored glasses, you'll convince yourself things couldn't get any worse. When dreamboat turns into steamboat and life gets rocky, don't put on the blinders. Living in hell to show Daddy that you didn't make a mistake will be one of the biggest errors in your life. Ignoring his faults and whitewashing the situation will cost you and your children a lifetime of pain and sorrow. Daddy's motto of "making your bed and lying in it" does not apply to this situation. Listen to your heart. Trust in yourself. Walk away before it's too late.
When faced with raising a "special needs" child as a single parent, don't hang your head and ask what you did wrong. Instead, believe in yourself and expect others to carry their own blame. Take pride in every achievement you and your son obtain, regardless of how small. When the medical society shakes their head and gives little hope, stare them in the eyes and tell them they're wrong. You don't know it now, but you will have the strength to endure, and every success will be a moment you will never forget.
Life has a funny way of throwing curves and hardballs when you least expect it. You're going to meet another man who will love you with all his heart until both of you are faced with the darkest moment in either of your lives ... the death of a son. From that moment, neither of your lives will ever be the same. You will believe that it is your sole responsibility to protect and care for your family, to lead them through the pain and sorrow. I want to stand on the highest mountain and scream at the top of my lungs, so you hear this, even if you hear nothing else. Grieve and grieve hard. If you do not allow yourself to feel the loss, your wound will never heal. Caring for others and helping them move forward doesn't make your pain disappear. It will be lurking nearby, waiting to emerge and drag you down when you least expect it. You'll stand in the bathroom, gazing into the mirror, and tell yourself it's your job, your duty to care about your family. You're right, but who's going to care about you, especially when you don't?
Somewhere down the line, your grief and his lack of understanding will leave you alone again. You'll go through a lot of weary days and torturous nights wondering why. Only God has that answer, and he's not about to share it with you or anyone else at the moment. Beating yourself up over it won't make it right either.
By now, you will know and understand your life's pattern. You take some hard knocks, get hit and stumble to the ground, but you'll always find the strength hidden deep inside to stand tall and begin again. Over the next fifteen years, you will work sixteen-hour days, sometimes longer, making a living for your family. You won't complain. You'll beat the odds and earn the respect of hundreds of people in the corporate field. Though a part of you will still be waiting for that pat on the back from Dad, you'll know it's not coming, and that's a step in the right direction. I can't tell you his lack of pride won't hurt because it will, but I can tell you others will see the strong woman you have become. They will recognize and appreciate the real you. You'll have successfully put your children through college, taught them to be strong and independent, and given them what you've been missing in life ... love and respect. Knowing that the mighty dollar is desirable but not the foundation for happiness will be your legacy to them.
When you sign your name on the dotted line, officially becoming a senior citizen collecting social security, sit back and remember the good things, regardless of how small they may have been. Clear off those dusty files in your mind and know that you did the best you could. Be proud of who you are!
You'll find that life has come full circle, and now it's your turn to care for your parents. One day, you'll shake your head and wonder why you couldn't see how hard your mother was struggling and feel bad about those cursed words you smothered. The good part is she never heard them, and even if she had, she'd understand. After all, she's lived 63 years under the thumb of the man you tried so hard to please.
I want to tell you your father will have mellowed, but unfortunately, he will have become a bitter and unhappy man. Warning you about his disregard for anyone's feelings seems redundant at this point of your life, but after all, he is your father. Knowing his faults won't soften the pain when he tells you how worthless you have been since childhood. Instead, I'll rely on your resilience and faith in yourself to get through this one. Stand tall and remember he's not walked in your shoes, faced your pain, or fought your battles. You did that on your own and lived to see another day. Knowing you as I do, you'll feel pity for the man who will never really know the wonderful daughter God gave to him.
Before I go, I want to leave you with one last thought, something to get you through all the rough spots you'll have to face during your lifetime.
Grab those lemons and turn them into lemonade, and then raise a glass in recognition of who you are ... a woman who isn't afraid to begin again.
Saw you down at the river yesterday. Pretty brave putting those disgusting worms on your fishing hook. Even saw that glow in your eye as you wiped your hands off on your blue jeans, just like Dad. I also saw your small fingers swat away the tear brimming in the corner of your eye when Dad and your big brother laughed themselves silly at the tiny crappie you caught. I didn't see either of them taking home the "catch of the day." Right then and there, I knew if given a chance, I would have a long, long chat with you.
Now I know you're probably already scolding yourself for daydreaming, but listen to me, life's going to deliver you some raw deals, and you need to start right now believing in yourself and who you are. You are never going to be the little boy Dad wanted. He's never going to appreciate the terrific daughter God chose to bless him and your mother with. Learning that lesson now will save you tons and tons of heartache.
Okay, so maybe you are too young to comprehend why someone wouldn't love you for who you are, accept and appreciate your talents instead of wishing for something else. Heck, I'm 62 and still struggling every day with that one.
I stole a peek at a few of your stories in your journal. I know, I know. It's not polite to pry into someone's personal diary, but since technically we are one and the same, I considered it my writing too. I'd forgotten how creative and inspirational you are and how much love you carry in your heart for everyone, even those who hurt you.
You try to act tough when Mommy yells at you. Broad shoulders and thick skin when she tells you that you'll never be good enough for Daddy. When you secretly swear under your breath at her, calling her a sick, crazy lady, I know that deep down inside, you are afraid she might be right. I wish I could make you understand that when you become an adult and have children of your own, you'll discover Mommy was fighting her own battles with illness and Daddy, and unfortunately, didn't know how to make you understand. In time, she will become your best friend, your companion, and will stand in battle at your side, regardless of the cost to her.
One of my biggest regrets is not showing you what a strong person you are becoming because of who and what you are, not because of Daddy. When you lie in bed at night, rubbing those welts the belt left and wondering why you're so stupid, I wish I could dry your tears and tell you that this too will pass. You will never forget the pain, but you will remember the injustice when you reprimand your own children.
Your determination to shine in your father's eyes will be the foundation for your scholastic achievements. I wish I could prepare you for the crushing blow Daddy will deliver when you proudly hand him your final report card. He'll take one look at all the A's while you patiently stand there awaiting his atta-girl praise, and then, without any hesitation, he'll cruelly demand to know why they weren't A-pluses. It's going to hurt like hell. After you pick yourself up, dust off the disbelief, you're going to walk away. At first, you're going to be focused on your failure to please him, but somewhere deeply seeded in your mind, a small voice will encourage you to believe in yourself. It's going to take a lifetime to disconnect your successes and his lack of encouragement totally, but each day you'll move forward, and that's a success in its self.
Of course, adopting the "I'll show you" attitude isn't going to be the easiest road traveled either. When the first young man sweeps you off your feet and promises you the good life, you're going to snatch the chance in a heartbeat. Clinging to those rose-colored glasses, you'll convince yourself things couldn't get any worse. When dreamboat turns into steamboat and life gets rocky, don't put on the blinders. Living in hell to show Daddy that you didn't make a mistake will be one of the biggest errors in your life. Ignoring his faults and whitewashing the situation will cost you and your children a lifetime of pain and sorrow. Daddy's motto of "making your bed and lying in it" does not apply to this situation. Listen to your heart. Trust in yourself. Walk away before it's too late.
When faced with raising a "special needs" child as a single parent, don't hang your head and ask what you did wrong. Instead, believe in yourself and expect others to carry their own blame. Take pride in every achievement you and your son obtain, regardless of how small. When the medical society shakes their head and gives little hope, stare them in the eyes and tell them they're wrong. You don't know it now, but you will have the strength to endure, and every success will be a moment you will never forget.
Life has a funny way of throwing curves and hardballs when you least expect it. You're going to meet another man who will love you with all his heart until both of you are faced with the darkest moment in either of your lives ... the death of a son. From that moment, neither of your lives will ever be the same. You will believe that it is your sole responsibility to protect and care for your family, to lead them through the pain and sorrow. I want to stand on the highest mountain and scream at the top of my lungs, so you hear this, even if you hear nothing else. Grieve and grieve hard. If you do not allow yourself to feel the loss, your wound will never heal. Caring for others and helping them move forward doesn't make your pain disappear. It will be lurking nearby, waiting to emerge and drag you down when you least expect it. You'll stand in the bathroom, gazing into the mirror, and tell yourself it's your job, your duty to care about your family. You're right, but who's going to care about you, especially when you don't?
Somewhere down the line, your grief and his lack of understanding will leave you alone again. You'll go through a lot of weary days and torturous nights wondering why. Only God has that answer, and he's not about to share it with you or anyone else at the moment. Beating yourself up over it won't make it right either.
By now, you will know and understand your life's pattern. You take some hard knocks, get hit and stumble to the ground, but you'll always find the strength hidden deep inside to stand tall and begin again. Over the next fifteen years, you will work sixteen-hour days, sometimes longer, making a living for your family. You won't complain. You'll beat the odds and earn the respect of hundreds of people in the corporate field. Though a part of you will still be waiting for that pat on the back from Dad, you'll know it's not coming, and that's a step in the right direction. I can't tell you his lack of pride won't hurt because it will, but I can tell you others will see the strong woman you have become. They will recognize and appreciate the real you. You'll have successfully put your children through college, taught them to be strong and independent, and given them what you've been missing in life ... love and respect. Knowing that the mighty dollar is desirable but not the foundation for happiness will be your legacy to them.
When you sign your name on the dotted line, officially becoming a senior citizen collecting social security, sit back and remember the good things, regardless of how small they may have been. Clear off those dusty files in your mind and know that you did the best you could. Be proud of who you are!
You'll find that life has come full circle, and now it's your turn to care for your parents. One day, you'll shake your head and wonder why you couldn't see how hard your mother was struggling and feel bad about those cursed words you smothered. The good part is she never heard them, and even if she had, she'd understand. After all, she's lived 63 years under the thumb of the man you tried so hard to please.
I want to tell you your father will have mellowed, but unfortunately, he will have become a bitter and unhappy man. Warning you about his disregard for anyone's feelings seems redundant at this point of your life, but after all, he is your father. Knowing his faults won't soften the pain when he tells you how worthless you have been since childhood. Instead, I'll rely on your resilience and faith in yourself to get through this one. Stand tall and remember he's not walked in your shoes, faced your pain, or fought your battles. You did that on your own and lived to see another day. Knowing you as I do, you'll feel pity for the man who will never really know the wonderful daughter God gave to him.
Before I go, I want to leave you with one last thought, something to get you through all the rough spots you'll have to face during your lifetime.
Grab those lemons and turn them into lemonade, and then raise a glass in recognition of who you are ... a woman who isn't afraid to begin again.
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Writing Prompt If you could return in time and warn the child, inspire the young person, that would eventually become you,,,,what would you tell him/her? |
Whispers to a child Contest Winner |
 Recognized |
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Thank you Sandra for the use of your lovely picture.
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