September 27th is bloggers unite, many unjust causes still exist in silence and if all we can do is bring awareness and create a bond world wide of the plight that humanity stands in struggle with , and hopefully turns the struggle into a united front. I created my blog to honor my sister who has passed away many years now. The abuse that I witnessed as I stood in fear scars the soul. Abuse is not one cause but many, wherevere you find , drug abuse, domestic issues and financial problems you will find some manner of neglect which will lead to abuse whether young or old.
There is a old carpenter's rule " measure twice , cut once. If people apply this rule to their lives, think twice, actions once. Then maybe we could cut the abuse in half, if we think about actions before we act upon them. I chose to bring out of archive the beginning and the end of a time in my life, a goodbye to all the yesterdays I didn't understand in hope of changing the path of tomorrow.
This blog was created for the silent cries that have gone unanswered. Children our most precious gift and undeniably our future. When does discipline become abuse? When does the dagger of words pierce the heart? How many children are left to care for themselves? When the boxcar scenario hits close to home.
When Angels Come To Visit....
Up in flames....
Guilt and Blame have no place, in the book of survival.We rarely stayed l in one house very long. The house I was born in was lost to back taxes and from that point on we were constantly on the move. Another neighborhood, another house, another set of issues to deal with. I was ten years old when my family was reunited. My grandmother had bought us a house, the first house I would call home. Six years in one place, despite the problems at home, I was now able to place roots. Making friends and finally having a degree of stability, as for the first time I was in same school for more then one year.This place that I called home, held both good and scary memories. It recently burnt to the ground and with that came a barrage of unwelcome thoughts. In one perspective, it was closure, the house of hell burnt to the ground, and another part of me felt a loss of connection. As if that part of life now had the door slammed shut. I looked on as the flames filled the sky. I felt numb and a chill shook from within. It was as if this final farewell, lit a chapter of the book of life into uncontrollable flames.
When Angels Come To Visit....
Up in flames....
Guilt and Blame have no place, in the book of survival.We rarely stayed l in one house very long. The house I was born in was lost to back taxes and from that point on we were constantly on the move. Another neighborhood, another house, another set of issues to deal with. I was ten years old when my family was reunited. My grandmother had bought us a house, the first house I would call home. Six years in one place, despite the problems at home, I was now able to place roots. Making friends and finally having a degree of stability, as for the first time I was in same school for more then one year.This place that I called home, held both good and scary memories. It recently burnt to the ground and with that came a barrage of unwelcome thoughts. In one perspective, it was closure, the house of hell burnt to the ground, and another part of me felt a loss of connection. As if that part of life now had the door slammed shut. I looked on as the flames filled the sky. I felt numb and a chill shook from within. It was as if this final farewell, lit a chapter of the book of life into uncontrollable flames.
The four of us girls started out in one room of the attic. A smile came over me as I envisioned us girls and the sweet memories of my sisters singing and lulling to sleep beyond the fears of the day. With little resources, we were instilled with a love for lyrics and music. I could almost hear the second oldest singing, they called the wind.........and then quickly my head bounced around as thoughts of the screams in the night, the breaking of glass, the sound of police car sirens, replaced the beauty of her voice.
``
or buy, nor is it a place you can travel to find.
Inside each of us is a magical place unexplored, when
you knocked at the door of my heart and I answered
I found home..... I love you and welcome home.
I reread the post and thought once again of the place I called home. I learned to play jacks on the back porch, my sister sun bathed on the roof and I painted my room red white blue with flags , patriotic hun. Yet I remember standing behind my mothers bedroom door when gun shot went off .
I just attended a event this weekend, I met a woman who seem to be drawn to me , the more I spoke the more chills you could see appear. She agreed that people care more about a beating to a dog then a beating to a child. I told her to look around at everyone at that festival whether for defense or in anger everyone there is capable of murder, she replied " scary thought " There is a fine line that if pushed a response to life becomes less then pleasant. My goal is to give not charity but choice, an alternative to stepping over that line. The most difficult part of society is the wide range of views, so we lean to the majority and pray they are right.
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