Reminiscing

Of days of old.
[Job 6:13] Is not my help in me? and is wisdom driven quite from me?
My help is all in myself; for I was abandoned to myself, and, alas! That is perfect weakness: and my subsistence, all that is real, stable, and permanent, came from the Father. Have I not the use of my reason, with which, I thank G-d, I can help myself, for with G-d all things are possible.
Do you think wisdom is driven quite from me, and that I am gone distracted? No, I am not mad, most noble friends, but speak the words of truth and soberness. The good thing about your past is you can leave it behind and move forward. This is want I am symbolically attempting to finally do. It has been 55 years since I was seven years old, when I first encountered hardships that seemed to be a way of life for me. Five is the number of grace so now I will have double grace and I traveled 669.38 miles, taking eleven hours to get to my destiny. Engaging to replace the worse times of my youth with new memories and returning with the peace that passes all understanding. This is a scary adventure for I must open closed doors and walk through, towards the Light. Strength and maturity is now on my side and as I press forward were hope and dreams can be restored.
The first place I went to is in the facility of the apartment we had lived in at the age of 4. The building was gone but the fire hydrant was still there. At this place I was constantly lock into a small clothes closet for hours on end by a babysitter. I must have been an unruly child and it was easier for her to keep me pin down. There was a window that was attached to the floor so I would sit and look out, seeing only the fire hydrant in the street light. It was a place of contact and staring at it too long it seemed to move around, and the clothes became scary also, I did not cry for I did not want anyone to know they hurt me or that I was a sissy. I dropped off my fear of closed in places and remembered the court house across the street that I use to play in its yard.
Driving to the little green house that we had moved to when I had turn five. This was a happy place for me for awhile. Here I remembered little gargoyles coming out of the closet poking me with long needles. Of course I did not learn what they were until I became an adult and had seen a picture of them. The babysitter freaked out and my mother said I had quite an imagination, but I say it happened to this day.
Our birth father came to visit, my sisters welcomed him with open arms but I hid behind my mother’s skirt. No stranger could get close to me for I had already built a wall around.
I walked to the top of the hill were I could see (in my minds eye), the man walking up the road carrying a baseball bat. He would become my step-father and would use that club in the future to beat me. I drop of the demons of the night and shook off the dust from the feet. The good memory was I had a little boyfriend at that time and my first kiss.
Mother married and we moved to a house by the railroad tracks by the time I was seven. That is when I gave up on life and a death wish was developed that stayed with me. My step father was a very abusive man in all the ways possible, life was hell on earth. I was the primary target for I had a smart mouth and did not conform very well. After a beating with blood running, I would turn around and say “is that the best you can do?” Not a smart thing to say, but pain was the name of the game and no one could hurt me if I did not allow it. I stop crying completely, all emotions were to be held at check. Tears my run from my eyes but no sound would come out. I had trained myself so well that I don’t know how to cry anymore. G-d opened the valve when I turn forty and forgot to close it again, but the emotions stay inside. Too many unpleasant things happened in my seventh year – I panic when I see a seven year old, if they can live through the seventh year they will make it. I had no friends ever, for I could not take any home if I had any. I became a loner and never seemed to out grow it. Mother said not to air out your laundry, and with my big mouth to stay silent meant to stay away from people.
It is at seven I started smoking, stealing the step-fathers cigarettes thinking I was getting even with him (well - I was a child). When caught he insulted me saying I did not know how to inhale and it took me a week of puking up my guts but I learned. It became my relieve in stress, the only thing I could count on for it was everyman for them self. Adults would say I had old hollow eyes, as if no one was at home; but I was in there, they just couldn’t see me. Children were to be seen not heard back then.
At this place I drop off a large suitcase of baggage that I was tired of dragging around. I took with me the fun times of playing on the railroad tracks; I collected rocks, sticks, bugs, and even made me a tee-pee to hide in. Another good place was the corn cob pile by the tracks that I would climb and slide down on a piece of cardboard, until Mother found out and had them remove for the pile for it was to dangerous.
We moved to an apartment over a store at the age of 9. It had a long open staircase to enter from the alley. I played in the ally chasing mice into a wood pile until I step on a nail that went right through my foot. The pile was removed also. Then I gathered up pop bottles and took them to the front of the store to cash in for a penny a bottle that was back then when you could buy penny candy. As I said I wasn’t too bright of a child for it was the store that my Mother worked at and my candy supply got stopped.
One more final move in this town was down the alley next to a harness shop, with a yard to play in, now I was 10. Nothing has changed since I was seven, but then I did not know there was any different way to live. We had a belt hanging on the wall (like a picture) it was used for beatings, once it miserably disappeared. Now we have four children in the family but my name was called out. It was replaced with a thicker, longer one and I got the use of it right away. You know beatings are not so bad, you get use to it, blood runs free. I learned it was easer to take it than to watch another get whipped. So I started volunteering to take their places, I was tough and have a high tolerance to pain. He didn’t care as long as he got out his frustration and I still was not broken so it was a contest between us.
Many more things happen well living here, at the age of thirteen he disappeared for awhile. With a break in the system I got stronger and made up my mind that enough was enough. When he returns I will take charge and one of us was going down. We moved out of state before I would set eyes on him again.
One thing about victims, they seem to wear a sign on their foreheads that say: ‘I am an easy target’ for they come out of the woodwork. I was taught to do as told, ask no questions, and just go with the moment. Do we carry their demons on us? Or do we develop our own? What affects your childhood will affect your adult hood if one does not deal with the issues.
Here I drop the death wish, I couldn’t find anything good to take with me. Returning to the hotel I showered and scrubbed myself clean. Tomorrow will be a fun day for I am going to a wooded park to walk the trails, sit by a lake and lesson to that small tiny voice of hope and happiness.
The place was not the same as I remembered, life goes on, and changes were made, it only existed in my mind; to be renewed to the present time, relaxing and enjoying the scenery. Doors were open and doors were close, pieces of the puzzle came together. Going home with less baggage and free from old demons, now what I make of life will be my choice as I keep in step with my true Father. Maybe even I will make a friend or two, possibly becoming a nice person – well we will see were the trail leads.
Those who have grace in them, who have the evidence of it and have it in exercise, have wisdom in them, which will be their help in the worst of times. The fear of G-d, which is wisdom, true grace in the heart, which, when once implanted, can never be driven out.