Time Well Spent

Today is the last day with Granny. I love my granny and so does my family. She hasn't been out to see us in four years. It's been that long since we celebrated a holiday with her either.

In the seven days she's been with us we had Thanksgiving dinner, went to lunch for her birthday (its in Dec) and had Christmas morning with her. It's been kind of busy since she's been here doing all the shopping and stuff. Then yesterday she had a bad night and was tired and lethargic all day.

Because of that we didn't go to church. Our family is very active in our religion and though granny doesn't attend our church she is supportive. However, I felt like it was important to just simply be with her today. She feels better, Sundays are always laid back, and it is her last day as she leaves first thing in the morning. There is a small twinge of guilt that I didn't attend but I love my Savior and he loves my granny. I can tell she's really happy we stayed and are just hanging out for the day.

What about you? Have you ever felt slightly guilty but then decided not to regret it?

Signifigant Sunday...The Single Mother/Woman at church...Jezebel or Modern Day Widow?

I know .... I know you guys are thinking Not Jezebel!!! Hear me out. As I was deciding what to write this Sunday I was transported back to a time when I was the daughter of a single mother attending a small church. One instance among many was when we moved. When I say we I mean my mother, eight year old brother and I. The only help we received was from my aunt and some neighbors who took pity on us. My aunt Sis is stout as a bull and was great, but imagine two women a teen girl and an eight year old string bean (sorry little brother) are trying to move a couch with a bed in it. Would you stop and help or would you ignore them? If you knew they would need help in advance would you go help them?

In my new church I know that help would be called organized and put to action. The women would be there to help pack, clean, move, and unpack. The men would be there to do all the lifting and moving. Now don't get me wrong the women of that church did have a small house warming party after the move. I'm sure it was spawned from the guilt they felt telling their husband, "I don't want you helping that woman. She's single!" (I got it from a source that was what happened. I'm not speculating.)

Note to those wives in today's society most affairs are likely to happen with people in relationships and often times people you are both acquainted with.

Although Christ didn't say single women or mothers he did say "and the widows and orphans shall be provided for, as also the poor." I think it's safe to assume that the single mother/woman is counted as a widow in the Lord's eyes and should be treated as such. Not a Jezebel or a lesser person. 

Are you a single mother who ever felt this way? Have you received kindness and charity when you needed it? Please share your experiences do it anonymously if you want.

To Be Shunned...

This post is deeply personal. Most people would wonder why it would be. They probably assumed this blog was simply about writing...well mostly it is. Anyone who has ever written a blog, a novel, a poem or even painted a picture will tell you it's like putting your inner most dealings out there for people to see. However, Aaron Patterson summed it up the best. (yes Aaron is my publisher...however it's not brown nosing when it's brilliance)




So as this Christmas season approaches I find myself thinking of family and Christ. Well that led me to this post. My family is 2,000 miles away. It's fine really we have Skype. However, I had another family ,briefly. My bio should clear up any background info missing for anyone.

My father was never a part of my life. My mother's family is all I really know...having me at 17 even in 1982 wasn't exactly accepted yet. Nonetheless, I was deeply loved and cherished by a mother, aunt, uncle and loads of extended family. Most especially by my Granny and Paw Paw. I was like their later in life baby. They had experience, patience and money...they spent loads of all three on me. I guess that's why it hurt so bad when my other grandparents (Nanny and Pa) shunned me.

When I was thirteen I found and contacted my father. He agreed to meet me at a local fast food restaurant and we had a lunch where he proceeded to tell me that my mother was a whore in high school and I could be his daughter. (This was pretty upsetting considering I was looking into my own eyes.) I have two siblings by this man and from what I can tell I wasn't missing out on much.

Fast forward 5 years to my graduation day. I am 18. I send a letter to my father's parents Nanny and Pa. They write me back and say that I could quite possibly be their grandchild and they had heard about me before. However, no one had ever contacted them so they were just waiting. (This should have been my first warning.)

I meet them. They are welcoming and loving...although very different than what I knew. It didn't matter. I had been taught to be tolerant and open minded about everyone. So we develop a relationship over a few years. We spend holidays together and they get to know my children and husband. 

Now we enter 2003...I converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints with my husband. My father's parents are devout Church of Christ. I was so elated to share a testimony of our Savior that they were some of the first people I told. Nanny invited me to her home soon after to offer me a gift. It was a scripture bag...full of antimormon literature.
Imagine my joy is like a balloon full of life filling oxygen...and then imagine a one legged old woman with a butcher knife popping it to pieces. That's what if felt like. (Nanny lost her leg many years ago and now has a prosthetic.)

I quickly left and disposed of the literature. I wouldn't visit or return her phone calls after that either. Finally when I did answer the phone, she had the nerve of asking,"Have I done something to offend you?" I wanted to say How about I come burn a cross in your yard and then ask you the same thing. But I didn't. I did say that her pamphlets hurt and I had been taught you say what you think and ask what you want to know face to face. Her response was that she didn't even know anything about the church or what the pamphlets said. (!!!!!can you see the look on me face. bugeyed, mouth agape, eyebrows to the top of my forehead!!!!!)Then she proceeds to say she was scared because it all happened when that Elizabeth Smart girl was kidnapped. (Elizabeth Smart was the victim! She's a Mormon!!)

I haven't spoke to her for 6 years now. I think it was all just too much. To be shunned by your father and then to have his mother do it as well. I just walked away. I know it wasn't the Christlike thing to do. It wasn't about being Christlike it was about emotional survival. There's only so much "I don't want you." a girl can take from her family.

I have a cousin, an aunt and a sister on fb that are from that side. They are kind and interested in what I have going on in life. I even saw Pa out ,mostly at Kroger's getting gas, when I still lived in TN. He always, always was kind and asked about the kids and told me he loved us.

I have prayed for them and I'm happy to hear that there have been many blessings for them in recent years. Will I call them...no....will I send a letter or a card....maybe one day. Of course members of their family may see this blog and then tell them. Then it will be "We don't want you!" all over again.

Bri

What's up with YA fantasy?

Saturday was a good day. I had a date day spending time with my husband. We did some religious activities together and then, in our Sunday best, had a nutritious meal at the local McDonald's. As we ended our morning and went our separate ways, we both had errands and obligations to attend to, I suddenly found myself at the mall. Then just as suddenly I was knee deep and happily surrounded by my addiction. The Words. What my husband rather unaffectionately calls books.

I went to the store with the intentions of finding a cooking/diet book. Nevertheless, I found myself bouncing back and forth between the historical romance section and young adult fantasy section. I decided to purchase a book in YA about werewolves. I spent $20.00 on the hardback.

I left the book store so eagerly I almost forgot my original errand in the mall. I was bustling with the potential the new "words" could provide. I went straight home and did my chores quickly and saw to any potential needs my children might come up with so as not to be interrupted and thus igniting my Medusa like attributes.

Then I sat back on my super soft, down padded bed and snuggled up to get my fix. I must admit that what first attracted me to this book was the cover. This jacket was alluring, pivotal and beautiful. So you can imagine my utter dismay as I opened the book and ran my fingers along it's inner pages. I did not feel a smooth lattice work of equal proportions. The pages look like something my six year old cut out then put together with a stapeler. They are all misshapen and roungh edged.

Nevertheless, because of the junkie I am, I press forward. I made it to chapter 3 and could tell that I wasn't really happy with the way things were going. What do you think I did? What would you do? Remember I am a junkie. I read on. At about 11:00pm I was half way through the book and had met my breaking point.

I had endured several aspects of the story that I could look past. However, when the characters were being forced into situations of sexual abuse by authority figures of the straight and homosexual nature I was officially done. Not only am I done I will get my money back.

I used to read YA because I thought it would fall better within my ideas of moral reads. That is not the case anymore. The saddest thing about the whole ordeal is that this is not the first time this has happened. It is acutally quite common. There are also several common denominaters in my experiences as well. If it's YA fantasy set in modern times then it going to have something offensive to my own personal convictions more often than not. Why is that? Do teenagers really find joy is such sad and unacceptable behavoirs? Isn't fiction supposed to be fun? I will say when I do find the not. It's like finding a hidden snickers bar days after Halloween is over. Unexpected, satisfying and oh so sweet.


PS. I have purposely left the name of the novel out of this entry. I believe what I believe. Those are my personal opinions. I refuse to review a book in any form whether negative or positive when I cannot even finish it.