Wisdom from Pain

Living in today's society is one of the hardest aspects of life
anyone has to deal with. It is the reason humanity is having a
difficult time of coping. We find ourselves gasping for air, when all
we really have to do is breathe. I find myself forgetting to breathe;
yet those around me think I am a strong positive person. However, I
find myself wanting to run away. Why is that? Why do I, like so many
others, feel lost and empty? Is it because of the lack of faith in
family life, or is it because of the lack of faith in our world? What
is the answer?
In our world today, has entered a time of despair, confusion, and down
right chaos. On April 19, 1995, a shocking horror came across our
television from the local news caster, "Just in, The Alfred P. Murrah
Federal Building in Oklahoma City has had some type of an explosion,
more details as they come in." Then to find out someone blew up the
Federal Building, killing 168 and injuring 500 innocent men, women, and
children. My heart sank. That same year, a boy killed his parents, and
a husband killed his wife and three small children. These are just a
few examples of what has happened in my hometown area. What are we
doing to ourselves and why?
Let us take, for example, the family unity in our society today. Where
is it? What is it? Who holds it? I guess, you could say the family unit
was lost back in the 50's or 60's. Who knows? No one really has it
anymore or you very seldom see it. Everyone is so busy these days
trying to out do the other person, such as seeing who has the best job,
home, cars, clothes, etc. You will also hear people say, "my child is
better than that one," or "Johnny wouldn't do that!" When in fact
Johnny would do that because parents are not what parents should be
anymore. Some parents beat, maim, or even kill their children, and some
children are killing their parents or siblings. What has happened to
us? Where are our family values and morals? Michael Novak states, "The
stories seem to be either negative (i.e., stories of family violence
and failures to properly care for their young and old), reformative
(e.g., the Christian Coalition's Contract for the American Family), or
where have the "good old days" gone (i.e., federal statistics showing
rising divorce rates, how three in ten births are illegitimate, or the
disappearance of Ward and June Cleaver family model) in tone."
Families use to be united, doing things such as, going to the beach,
having a picnic, reading together, or even riding bikes. Now all that
we hear lately is children killing children, children being molested,
children killing their families, parents killing their children,
husbands killing their wives, and so on. The list is long on horrible
acts being committed on a daily basis and being shared throughout the
world. When will it ever stop? Whatever happened to loving each other
or even talking with one another? What happened to the American Dream?
Is it dying or are we dying? We, as American people, are gasping for
air. We are not attaining what we fought so hard for in the beginning,
which was "FREEDOM AND THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS."
Communication among family and friends is scarce or even a thing of
the past. There is no merit to one's trust in each other anymore. I
find myself lost in this dilemma and wanting to fix the pain of
everyone who is going through it. If I could fix these problems, I
would start with the parents. I would say, "Parents, young and old,
children are people that have feelings. Sometimes they are somewhat
misguided, but still have feelings just like you and I. Children want
to be heard, to express themselves, and to be taken seriously. They
also want to be loved, understood, and to have some sense of security
from you. They should have the right to their own opinions, to a
certain degree of course, and to be able to make their own decisions
and mistakes with some degree of guidance from you. They were not given
to us to be abandoned, abused, used, or even in some cases killed. They
are here to bring us joy and fulfillment in our lives and to strive to
become outstanding human beings in their lives. They are our hope. They
are our future!
I am the mother of four grown sons. When looking at my boys, I see my
legacy that I leave to this world. I have instilled values and morals
for which I believe will see them through the most terrible of times. I
allowed them to grow, to express themselves, and to feel their
emotions. For me, as a child, I was told, "children are to be seen and
not heard." How wrong in parenting thinking that era of time was. To
parents, children have ideas, dreams, and hopes for their future. It is
only fair they be heard and to be able to share things with you. Let
them know you really care who they are becoming by listening,
understanding, and hearing what they are trying to tell you. Little
babies cannot speak. They cry to let us know there is something wrong.
Shaking a baby to stop it from crying will not serve any purpose. He or
she does not understand.
To all parents everywhere, take time out. All of us have bad days,
however that should not let us take it out on the ones we love,
especially our children. Our children look up to us, admire us, and
love us with all of their hearts. Let us cherish these precious moments
we have for soon they will leave to start their own lives and families.
What we instill in our children today is what they will instill in
their children tomorrow. I find myself feeling overwhelming amounts of
pain, not only for myself, but also for others who have experienced
this same kind of pain. To most of us, family means everything.
However, there are those who have no family at all or who have any
willing to have anything to do with them. It is so sad to be one of
those people. The ones you love will not accept the "you" they do not
know. Has anyone ever answered the question, "Why do we hurt the ones
we love?" or "Why are we hurt by the ones we love?" I wish to take some
time to explore the reasons why. I am no expert, and do not claim to be
one; however, being a daughter, wife, and mother allows me firsthand
authentic perspective. For example, I will use the relationship between
my mother and I. My mother, Dottie, loved me with all of her heart, and
I loved my mother. God rest her soul. Unfortunately, my mother and I
experienced a very abusive and tumultuous relationship from the time I
was born until three years before her death in July of 1987.
She was a very beautiful woman, however, she possessed another side,
which only my sister and I would see. I was the one being physically,
emotionally, and mentally, abused by my mother, while my younger sister
could only witness in helplessness. Each day of my childhood revolved
on what mood my mother would be in that day, and then sometimes she
could turn at a drop of hat. Everyone knew her as a happy outgoing
person who was a loving mother and wife, and she was some of the time.
It became completely unbearable for me as a teenager, and everyone was
beginning to believe I was an out of control teenager who wanted to
run. Well folks, they were right about one thing. I did want to run. I
did not want to run to have fun, but I wanted to run from the pain of
abuse I was experiencing at home. I was getting older. The older I
became, the more I could not understand why my mom hated me so much. I
began hating her back. This hate grew to manifest itself into an
outright war between my mom, my grandparents, my father, and my sister.
Eventually, I went out and got myself pregnant on purpose at the age of
sixteen to hurt my parents and to free myself from the house full of
pain.
Well, I am here to tell you that little stunt on my part did not help
the problem go away. Please, do not get me wrong, the child that came
from my mistake is a blessing in my life, and I love him with all of my
heart. The point I am trying to make is that I went out and brought a
child into a problem that was not resolved. Therefore, I placed his
life in the same conditions that I had just run away from. First, I had
no business having a baby at sixteen. Second, it was not right to trap
my new husband by getting pregnant to avoid having to live with my
parents any longer. At that time, the boys did the right thing and
married the mother of the child. Unfortunately, after four years of
pain and abuse through that marriage it ended in divorce. I was left a
single mom with two small children to raise. In seeking escape from the
pain and abuse of this life, I had created a broken home. My mother
continued her uncontrollable abuse. However, now I began to fight her
back, which made me no better than her.
My mother had a profound effect on my life and what I would come to
be. People do not realize that our response to the actions of the ones
we love or the ones that love us that change or have an impact on our
lives. My response and development to the abuse at my mother's hand,
was the single greatest influence on my line of reasoning. You might be
thinking right about now, "What in the world is this crazy person
talking about?" I will try to explain this odyssey. My parents enjoyed
a beautiful relationship with each other. Unfortunately, it made my
sister and I feel as if we were not a part of their union. In
retrospect, my sister and I have often commented that they probably
should never have had children. I am not saying this in a mean or
jealous tone. I want you to understand, when the abuse was happening my
sister and I tried several times to tell our father about our mother.
He was so in love with her, he would not believe us. As a result, the
abuse continued while my sister tried to console and protect me. I
became defiant. I began to lie. I ran away more times than I care to
remember. Their came a time my father was ready to give up. He believed
my rebellion was due to promiscuity. I can still remember him saying to
me on several occasions, "If you only think with what is between your
legs, then your not going to amount to much." Little did he know I was
not that kind of girl. Unfortunately, his quickness to judge my
behavior in such a harsh way only perpetuated more mental abuse. My
father did not understand why I was becoming this way. All he had to
say was that I was messed up teenager. Yes, I was messed up, and I felt
I had no one but myself to rely on. I began to become very distant
towards all of my family including my sister. During this period,
having friends began to mean more than family, because I believed my
family had betrayed me. I could accept a friend's betrayal more easily
than a family member. I guess you could say I disassociated myself from
all who thought they knew me. I would move from place to place. I did
not want anyone getting close to me, even people I was beginning new
relationships with. I had begun building a wall, a very protective wall
around myself. The only ones who were allowed to enter were my
children. In my mind, I believed my children would never hurt me, and
they have not.
I remarried shortly after divorcing my first husband, and I gave birth
to two more children. The unresolved pain and turmoil within me would,
unfortunately follow me through my next marriage. My second marriage
also contained abuse, and this led to the beginning of the abuse of my
own children. The anger and fighting between my mother and I continued
through this marriage as well. My mother was trying to control how I
would raise my own children. I had to strongly resist every effort I
felt to exclude her from my life altogether. Then she became ill. She
was diagnosed with Hodgkin's disease, non-lymphoma. At first, I did not
believe my parents when they told me. I thought it was just another way
for her to make me feel guilty and tear me up inside. When the
realization it was true set in, I found myself full of love for her and
guilt at the same time. I do not know what makes us feel the way we do
when we are in an abusive relationship, however, when the abuser
becomes defenseless, it seems the victim becomes compassionate towards
them. As an example, my second husband was an alcoholic just like his
father. When he would get drunk, his moods became as those of Dr.
Jeckel and Mr. Hyde, to the point that the violence in our home became
unbearable. The current abuse mirrored my abuse growing up. It seemed
to me, everyone I loved or put my trust in turned out to be two
different people and it began to affect the way I was raising my
sons.
By the time I was twenty-six, I had four sons, an alcoholic husband, a
terminally ill mother, and, for me, no one to turn to. The abuse from
my husband and the turmoil of dealing with my mother brought me to the
most horrible act I thought imaginable. My two older boys, who were
eight and nine at the time, were getting into a lot of trouble at
school and at home. One day, their principal called to have me come in
and meet with him about my son Mark. I thought to myself, "What now?"
Sure enough, this spirited boy was causing so much trouble; they wanted
to kick him out of the second grade. Well, I blew up at him when I got
home. I beat that boy so bad, my husband had to pull me off him. When I
realized what I had done, I knew at that moment, I was not a fit mother
to raise my boys. The thought of giving them all up would surely have
killed me had I let it sink into my mind what I was about to do. I
called my ex-husband, explained what turmoil I was going through and
that I felt he would be the better parent to give them what they needed
at that time. One week later, we met in Lincoln, Nebraska. Giving up my
two oldest sons was the most devastating thing I have ever had to go
through, even to this day. When those boys begged to stay with me and
promised they would be good, I looked at those innocent eyes filled
with tears and said, "I love you both very much, more than you will
ever know. Mommy needs help right now, and you are better off with
Daddy." I will never forget those words. When they drove away, a part
of me died inside that day.
It took a lot of counseling and determination to recover from that
chapter of my life. It has made me a better mother to the two boys
still with me. Since that time, my mother and I healed our hurt and
anger. We became the best of friends the last two years of her life,
and I broke the chain of abuse. My mother died a year after I gave my
boys up. My last memories of her are of the happy times we had
together. Part of me will always wonder why we had to hurt each other
for so long before we started to really know each other. As for the two
oldest boys, Michael came back to live with me when he was 15, while
Mark continued to live with his father. As it turns out, the youngest
boys, Robert and Christopher, are the finest young men living in
Farmington, Illinois. My elder sons love me for what I did for them,
because not only did I get the help I needed, their father got them the
help they needed. Today, my relationships with all of my boys are
strong, loving, and healthy relationships. They are as proud of me as I
am of them. The key to stop hurting the ones you love is breaking the
cycle of abuse in any of its forms. It was not easy for me to break the
cycle, but my love for my children was strong enough to see me through
the rough times.
Hurting the ones you love can be devastating and harmful to both
parties. Always remember to think before you act. If you find yourself
at that point of breaking or losing control step back, count to ten, or
even take a walk until you can talk about what makes you feel so angry.
Yes, the bruises go away but the hurt remains. You could be passing on
that hurt to the ones you love. Let the hurt end with you.
Now, to the children who I feel the need to speak out to, I wish to
say, "You are wonderful imaginative creatures; the way you express
yourselves is such a refreshing breath of life. The facts of life for
you are very complex at this time, and I want you to know your parents
are there and have gone through what you are experiencing.
"Parents are to be respected, trusted, loved and yet allowed to make
mistakes. Making mistakes is how we learn from each other, as we grow
and share our feelings with each other. Just because we are adults does
not mean we do not have our faults and weaknesses. Some of us are still
just "kids" at heart, ourselves. Some of the young people today tend to
see us as the enemy. You think we are just a bunch of "know it alls."
What you conveniently forget is that we were once your age and faced
similar complexities of life, which you face now. We are here to love
you and guide you through life, for better or for worse. That is what
parenting is all about. So, if we make mistakes along the way, just
remember we are only human."
My son, Robert, once told me, "Mom you have taught me so much about
life, the way I should treat a girl, how to believe in myself, and the
difference between right and wrong. I thank you for that because the
compliments I get, I get because of your teachings." The youth of today
can have that same kind of relationship with their parents if all
involved work at it. The boys and I are not perfect; we have our
difficulties just like anyone else. The "trick" is to work at your
relationship with your parents, whether they are right or wrong. Keep
the communication lines between you and your parents open at all times,
no matter how hard it can be at times. When I get upset with my sons
and voice my opinions to them, they react to whatever I express, be it
anger, sorrow, remorse, or happiness. I let them express how they feel
about my opinions. Sometimes they show me that I was wrong in my
thinking, but they have always done it with respect for who I
was.
The point I am trying to make is that parents are not perfect and we
do make wrong judgment calls. I know I have. Youth are not suppose to
be afraid of their parents or threatened in anyway. Killing parents or
hating them for what they are doing is not the answer. Understanding
your parents and trying to help them understand you are the answers.
Killing just eliminates the person not the problems that went with the
person.
Seven years ago, my son, Michael, tried to commit suicide by putting a
gun in his mouth. Michael, at that time, was a young teenager who was
huffing and taking numerous amounts of drugs to escape from problems
his father and I had created. Michael's father and I were divorced, at
the time, and remarried to different people. For a number of years, his
brother and he were back and forth between the both of us, until one
day his father called. I could hear Michael on the phone with his
father and he was getting very upset and crying. At the end of the
phone conversation, I asked my son what was wrong. Mike explained to me
that his stepmother was accusing him of sexually molesting his half
sister when she was a year old. She was then four. I looked at him in
utter shock. I looked my son right in the eyes and said, "Michael, I am
only going to ask you this once and whatever your answer I will stand
by you. Did you do this horrible act?" My son replied in tears, "Mom I
never touched my sister that way, and I never could. I don't know why
dad's wife is saying this." In looking into his eyes and the tone of my
son's voice, I believed him. Therefore, in return for his honesty, he
gained my support.
Several months passed with accusations and testimonies of this
horrible act between the parents. During this time, Mike began sinking
into the realm of the drug world. His attitude started to change from a
happy teenager to a distant child I never saw before. As long as I
live, I will never forget that night when the phone rang. It was one of
Mike's friends, as he called him, speaking frantically over the phone
saying, "Mike has gone crazy, wants to kill himself. He has a gun.
Please come quick. He won't give it to me." I do not think at that
point, I even hung up the phone. My only thoughts at that moment were
of my son lying in pool of blood. Michael's friend only lived a few
blocks from us so, it only took me a split second to get there. To my
horror and every mother's nightmare, I saw my son blown out of his mind
on drugs and holding a gun in his mouth. I knelt beside him begging him
to give me the gun, and in total silence, he shook his head no. The
fear that came over me was so intense words cannot express it. I begged
and pleaded. His friend begged and pleaded. For what seemed like hours,
yet were only minutes, saving my son was all I could think about.
Finally, I began to cry. The salty tears rolled down my face in streams
because I was feeling my son's pain for what he had been going through.
At that exact moment, Michael opened his eyes, looked at my tears, and
began to cry. "Mom help me. I did not do those terrible things to my
sister. Please help me." I began to cry even more as I slowly took the
gun from his hand and held him in my arms. That night, I did a very
difficult thing for any mother; I committed my son to a drug
rehabilitation center.
Three months later along with a lot of heartache and therapy, Mike
walked out of the drug rehabilitation center clean, all the time with
his mother right by his side. My son was cleared of all charges brought
against him that same year and today lives a very happy, normal, and a
drug free life. The point of this story is that no matter what your
parents did to you, you can overcome any obstacle if you seek help. In
my son's case, it was my help and the help of the drug rehab program
that gave him a new start in life. My son could have killed himself to
escape from his problems in life, but with my help and the help of his
counselor he found a way to deal with his problem. In killing himself,
he would have only gotten rid of his body not the problem at
hand.
Committing murder or suicide does not alleviate the problems the youth
of today face. Communication with your parents and loved ones, and yes
sometimes seeking counseling is the answer. Your life and the lives of
others are too precious to waste on violence. Violence to your self or
to others will not solve the problems of tomorrow. Parents look for the
signs your children give off such as mood swings, unnecessary anger
towards others, their appearance, and change of friends. More warning
signs can be found on the Internet, local libraries, or even your
doctor offices. As for me, I was lucky and God was with me I knew the
signs, and most of all I knew my son. The boy I just described was not
my son, and I thank God every day that his friend called me. Today, I
speak of the four L's when talking to parents who suspect their child
is doing drugs, Look, Listen, Learn, and most of all Love. For what you
see, hear, and understand will save the life of someone you love.