Yes, I am sad, and angry, tired, aggravated. I want to be motivated, upbeat, excited…joyful. Where has my joy gone? Will it be gone long? How can I bring back that song, that lilting voice calling me into a new day? Hey, c’mon, get up, lets go-put on your dancing shoes!
More like, no-let me alone, bury my head back in the covers again. Why am I so tired? I’m dying, right? We’re all dying, right?
Wrong, wrong, wrong my love: We are all being made alive.
Listen to your brother, Paul, hear him call, down thru the ages, down in the pages of the Word. Haven’t you heard? There is a better life, a real life, joyous with a resounding cry! that I-no, you-no, WE will live in the right-around-the-corner future! Don’t despair-pull up a chair, listen man, listen: There is such love to be had, where there will be no one bad, no one angry or lonely or sick, Wait, it’s true! It can be YOU brother , YOU sister, imagine us living in this promised land…
We CAN, we WILL, wait for it… WE ARE living in this place, even now, I’ll tell you how:
It’s because our Father gave us Jesus, he LOVES US, he HEALS US, we will all sing his praises so, so, so soon. Please don’t give up, rather, get up. Let’s go up to the mountain of the house if Jehovah, and dwell in the shadow of his wings, dwell in His house, dwell in security with no one, NO ONE making us tremble. We won’t learn war anymore, and each one will dwell under his own vine, and under his own fig tree, in his own house made with his own hands.
Nothing in this world can ever separate us from God’s Love. Thats worth getting out of bed for!
No, I don’t have any fancy cures. You don’t need to send any money to a 1-800 number. I just want to share something that lifts me up and makes my heart rejoice every time I hear it:
God loves me, and he forgives me!
I thought I was unloveable…scared, addicted, violent, crazed and oh, so sick…but He loved me even than. So much that he sent his most beloved and first creation:Jesus Christ! to die as a ransom for me. To buy me back, because I was kidnapped by sin when the Devil misled our parents in Eden.
He sent his most beloved to save all mankind… not just me. So wherever you are, and whatever you have done, God wants you to turn around and come back to him.
No, don’t say you can’t… I said that too, not me, he doesn’t want me….You, maybe, but you don’t know what I have done…
No, I don’t, but our God does, and he loves you and wants you back anyway!!!! Yay!
I thought that the people who taught me about God, my friends I have now, were nuts. They didn’t know what I had done, all the people I had hurt. I couldn’t figure out why they were wasting their time…until I took a chance and prayed to Jehovah to show me the way. I broke down and poured my heart out to him, all the fear, all the hate, all the sadness. I prayed in Jesus name, like the Bible says I should do. And amazing things started to happen… not like the parting of the Red Sea, no…. But inside me.
I found it easier to think clearly, to slow down and think before I reacted to people and situations that used to enrage me. I prayed for help to not swear so much, and although I still mess up, I learned to tone it down, and people responded better. I thought I hated everyone, but as I learned more I realized that I was so hurt inside, so broken, that the only way I could function was to unleash all that hurt onto others, and that ususally the one’s who caught it were the people I wanted to love me the most.
I prayed for the pain to go away, and I asked God, in Jesus name to help me. And while I still hurt, the balm of God’s love soothes my broken heart and my broken bones, so that I can cope…without street drugs, and without violence. there are times when I ask Him to send me an Angel, because I feel so crushed. And while I know His angels have so many more important things to do, I can feel God’s love over me like a blanket, drying my tears until I can face the world again.
You don’t have to walk alone in the dark anymore, my friend. Please come in from the cold, the rain, the wind, the burning sun, the blinding blizzard…Come in to where it is safe and you are surrounded by people who really love you. I will save you a place at the table, you don’t even have to take your shoes off…
“The feeling of being doubted…is an ever-present background noise…”
Did you ever wonder if people believe you? Is that only the mental stomping ground of the addict? The alcoholic?
The feeling of being doubted, of my integrity being questioned, is an ever present background noise…especially when I am sick. I was even afraid, just now, to write the word ‘sick’. (wouldn’t it be better to minimize?)
One very HUGE contributing factor to this constant was the years upon years of describing extreme pain to a plethora of physicians who could find no ‘easy’ or ‘obvious’ condition to label me with. There were no broken bones, I had a history of drug abuse, I had a history of a mental illness diagnosis, and I am a woman. I was also very strong, working difficult physical jobs normally held by men, which may or may not have been a factor.
My experience has not been an isolated one when it comes to women who have Fibromyalgia and/or similar diagnosis. During the years before the medical profession widely recognized this condition I was one of a multitude who went thru years of mental anguish and physical agony before finally being given a smidgen of relief.
Finally a Diagnosis !
It took real determination (and very real disability and pain) to keep pushing on towards a diagnosis. I was told it was all in my head, that I was just overweight and needed exercise and that what I was experiencing was just a consequence of aging. At this point I was crying every night from the burning in my joints, in my muscles and in my spine. My best description for that time was as if I were wearing a dense heavy coat that was soaking wet, all the time. A coat that weighed about 100 pounds and was crushing me.
At this point my work was suffering, a kind boss had taken me aside after noticing my wincing, and suggested a Rheumatologist. Initially even he was sceptical until he got back the results of the CT Scans and MRI’s. (He was the first to order these types of tests!) I distinctly remember the initial shock at him gently taking my hand and apologizing, so sincerely, for not believing the severity of my discomfort. He went on to ask me if I had been in a car accident, the images showed that level of damage to my spine.
There were a myriad of issues the films brought to light, and from that point on my care finally addressed them. The physical relief was matched and even surpassed by the rush of validation! I was taken seriously!! I was, finally, believed!
…there was nothing…but to keep chasing the high, reality became too painful…married you so…you could not testify against him?…
I’ve been busy trying to find some balance. It has been a difficult issue all my life. I can be impetuous and impatient, wanting things to happen yesterday. In the past I hated discipline, and yet needed it desperately. I rebelled against everything, and prided myself on living outside the lines.
But I yearned to have the life I saw others living. I was always on the outside looking in-at families sitting round a dinner table, or gathered in front of a fireplace. Friends having lunch in a deli, or laughing at a movie. I was standing just outside, in three feet of snow, higher than a kite…and crying. Wishing I were in that house, sitting down to a hot meal, my heart full of love and surrounded by kindness. Full of joy. Full of hope.
After certain traumatic events I thought I could never be in the presence of ‘normal’ people again. Or in the company of ‘nice girls’. These feelings are common to those of us who have been forced to walk on the dark side…and that is exactly what kept me stuck on the outside looking in. As someone who had been sexually abused it was easy to believe that no one could understand me, I was different, warped somehow, out of line and irreparably broken.
These lines of reasoning are what kept me stoned, drunk and living on the street. A perverted sense of pride kept me “out there”; I was terminally unique and no one could understand me.
(I shut my eyes and drift back to those dark days when my husband and I were getting close to the end, an end that I knew was not going to have me walking out alive…)
The world I had immersed myself in was squeezing me dry. No true happiness, just oblivion. Once the money and the dope were gone, so was the glamor. Now there was nothing for it but to keep chasing the high, reality became to painful. To realize the person you left your family for never really loved you at all? That he married you so that you could not testify against him? Wait..what? What?…
The collect calls home, just to hear Mom’s voice, ” Are you alright, Susan? Do you have enough to eat? “
“Sure, Mom, no problem…we have work now, good work…Cement Plant shutdown…lots of money. Come up and see us sometime…”
They better never come visit. See me with black eyes, track marks. Find out we are living in a tent. Holidays coming round again, and I’m too strung out to visit. Oh, the bitter tears I cried that year, and the one after, and the one after that….endless rivers from red, swollen eyelids, dripping off the end of a snotty nose, wiped on dirty sleeves. Sleeves that roll up to purple scars on blue veins, sitting in a gray cement bathroom holding a syringe between tobacco stained teeth, ready to ride that white pony into blue, blue blue blue blue blu
That is not the way this story ended. It could have soooooo easily, except for one thing. One thing that I never would have believed if you had told it to me then. During those last few dangerous days of my marriage, days when he would get so high he would wire all the doors in the trailer shut from the inside, while creeping around with a hammer…days when I was so afraid of what he would do that I would hide in the bathtub hoping he wouldn’t find me… days when he beat me unconscious…when he shot wildly in a drunken stupor, missing me by inches…when he flushed a half ounce of coke down the toilet then dug up the septic tank and pulled the package out…days when he would OD and I brought him back to life, pounding on his chest and screaming, “Don’t die you #@$!%*!”…Then on our 7th anniversary he went to work at the naval shipyard, I made his favorite dinner and waited eagerly for him to come home, ready to forgive him one more time. Waited and waited, as the hours passed…losing hope I broke down, and prayed, not knowing what had happened but sensing something was wrong.
I remember lying in the dark , begging God for forgiveness as memories moved thru my mind, memories of all the hatred in my life, the drugs, the violence, all the pain I had caused, and abuse I had endured. I poured myself out to God, like I had not done in nearly 20 years. I really felt at that time that I was doomed, doomed to never get out of this situation alive. The violence and depravity were so overwhelming, and he had made sure to impress upon me, in no uncertain terms that if I were to ever try to leave, it would be my family who would pay for my error. And pay dearly. After pouring out my heart to God, I slept, drained of tears and exhausted .
It was a strange dream , and many years have passed, so I won’t attempt to relate it now. I was then awakened by a pounding on the door. My heart sank… Was this the police telling me some terrible news?
It was Jim, my husbands coworker, they rode to work together. He was beside himself… ” Sue, I have some bad news, really bad… I don’t know what happened but there was a SWAT team! The FBI, my god, it was terrible! They had their Guns drawn, told us all to get out of the van, get on the ground!”
Jim! (I heard myself yelling) Jim! Where is Marty? Is he ok? IS HE DEAD?
“what? Oh, no,no, he’s not dead, but they took him away, they cuffed us all, we were freaking out, questioned us all, but let us all go, except him!”
Oh, thank God, I remember feeling so relieved. He wasn’t dead on the highway, or shot by police… But what was he arrested for?
” Sue, it’s really bad, they were asking about guns, said we were stealing guns or something? They charged him with something to do with weapons, I don’t know…”
We talked on thru the night, and I was all wrapped up in how to deal with this new reality… So wrapped up that it did not dawn on me till years later that God answered my prayer that night, and he answered it in a BIG way. I survived my marriage to that man, I survived the addiction to cocaine and got clean, survived all the beatings, survived the alcoholism, the pain, the sadness, the insanity… Thanks to God.
I prayed for help and He heard my prayer… I am so very, very grateful to Jehovah, for his Son, Jesus, and for all His wonderful Wisdom , Power, Justice and Love. He is the Sovereign of the Universe and the Right to Rule belongs to Him, and to those whom he chooses to give it.
The Kingdom is in place, let it come!
Life is so good today. I am isolated, but I am never alone. I feel sad sometimes, but I am not without hope. There is nothing anyone can do to me that my God cannot undo. I do not need to cower in fear, because “there are more who are with us than those there are with them”(2 Kings 6:16b) I hope that you find some comfort knowing that God is the hearer of prayer, and the He wants us to talk to him, and share our feelings with him.
“For I well know the thoughts I am thinking toward you,” declares Jehovah, ” thoughts of peace, and not of calamity, to give you a future, and a hope. And you will call me, and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.” Jeremiah 29:11,12
“You will call, and Jehovah will answer; you will cry for help and he will say ,”Here I am!” Isaiah 58:9″
“Jehovah is close to the broken-hearted; He saves those who are crushed in spirit” Psalms34:18
I just attended one of my meetings on Zoom, for Worship. It amazes me how much these 2 meetings per week have become my greatest source of comfort, by seeing all my loving friends. It’s wonderful to feel the warmth-it even comes in loud and clear thru the computer!!
Isolation can be a killer for the mentally ill. There have been times when the only thing pinning me to this fabric of life was contact with another human being. The worst part of being so deeply depressed and out of hope, for me as a Bipolar person who used to have suicidal ideations, was that all I could see, ALL I COULD SEE, was the abyss. I had absolutely no ability on my own at that point to make a decision to reach out of the blackness for help. When you are in the dark, it is difficult to see a friend. The emptyness seems to stretch endlessly away, I had no thought of how I would hurt my loved ones.
I thank my God that someone saw my despair, and made a move, even though I said I was fine. Over and over and over…I would paste on a smile, because we of the depressed masses are SO GOOD AT ACTING, and repeat the phrase, “Oh no, I’m really fine, just a little tired…”, or “Nothings wrong, seriously, I’m fine.” Especially as a teen, I knew just how to shut my Mom down with a roll of my eyes and an exaggerated sigh of frustration. A slammed door worked well too.
At the time in my life when I was suicidal, I was not yet diagnosed with any mental illness. I was a teenager, had been sexually abused routinely, had been drinking and taking drugs for years, and felt so sick inside, mainly with self-loathing. Up to that point, say around age 13, I was starving for love and attention at home. I know now that it was largely in part due to my parents’ exhaustion at working constantly. But there was more. My Dad was tired, constantly, and angry, and he was very grouchy. I was SO sensitive that every word he said was rejection. I was not at all at fault, but I was acting out my need for love in promiscuity. Of course , having been sexually abused by trusted adults beginning at age 8, I’m sure I needed serious counselling even that early, but those were the years before it was ok to talk about such things.
I had many experiences where I heard my best friend and I being blamed for causing the abuse, even at the ages of 8 and 9, by the abusers co-conspiring wife, in the courtroom!!!! Also, the old-fashioned Protestant attitudes exhibited by Grandparents and Aunts and other family members told me in no uncertain terms that these abuses were never to be mentioned again.Nice girls didn’t talk about such things! Nobody will ever want to marry you!! You are “spoiled”now!!
These lies and the ensuing actions of not being cuddled, or hugged, or even being allowed to accompany my beloved little cousin to gymnastics class seared my little heart and mind. How does a child process rejection? She doesn’t know that her family is perpetuating the trauma, or that they are sick too, or just plain mean. She believes the lie that she is unlovable . Imagine for a minute: An eight year old believing it is HER FAULT that she was violated . That Daddy and Grandma don’t love her anymore…
So clear to me now, how wrong they were. And it also so WONDERFUL THAT I understand now. I hope so much that someone out there sees this who has a loved in a similar situation, and reaches out to the child, or teenager, or adult…Tell them IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT !!! You are LOVED, AND CHERISHED, AND NOT TO BLAME!!!
The circumstances that the abuse happened under were not caused by you. You absolutely DID NOT WANT THIS TO HAPPEN, NOR DID YOU MAKE THIS HAPPEN!! Repeat these truths over and over, until you can truly believe them. You must try, even though it may seem to be the hardest thing in the world, to find someone safe to talk to. For me, this was a Doctor at the emergency room, where I wound up after jumping out of a moving car. He really cared, even though I refused to talk initially. He did not judge me, or act shocked, or even run and get my Mom. Today, after years of treating sexual assault the fault of the victim, I would hope that ALL Doctors would give help and comfort to assault victims. This most likely is not the case, so don’t give up in seeking help. There are suicide prevention hotlines you can call, also 911 and 211 in the US. In the front of the phone book, if they still make these, there are lists of helpful organization, also safe places to go.
I know how hard it is to reach out, but you can do it. If you don’t feel up to talking to a human, there is still the BEST FRIEND you will ever have, who you can talk to, Anytime, Anywhere, out loud, or silently from your hurting heart… This person is God. Jehovah is his name, and he is Jesus’ Father. He knows you are hurting, and he wants you to call on him…
I did not believe that God could love me, and I suffered on my own for 20 more years. You don’t have to suffer that long!
Psalm 34:18 says, ” Jehovah is close to the brokenhearted; he saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
Psalm 94:19 reads,”When anxieties overwhelmed me, you comforted and soothed me.”
Psalm 27:10 also says, “Even if my own father and mother abandon me, Jehovah himself will take me in.”
For me, praying to God has been my lifeline. Even though I live alone now, I know He hears my prayers anytime and every time. I say, “in Jesus name.”at the end of all my prayers because Jesus tells us at John 14:6 , “No one comes to the Father except thru me.” Thus is because God made Jesus High Priest and God requires that we acknowledge this when we pray! So Jesus also states this truth in the Bible at John 16:3,
” If you ask the Father for anything, he will give it to you in my name.”
One of my favorite verses in the Bible offers me so much insight into God’s love for us . It is in Isaiah 41:10, “Do not be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be anxious, for I am your God. I will fortify you, yes I will help you, I will really hold onto you with my right hand of righteousness.”
I hope this brings you comfort and hope. Know that you are loved…
I feel all tied up in knots inside, this feeling happens pretty often. I’ve missed a day of one of my Psych Meds, but usually it doesn’t effect me so soon if I miss a dose. So I am not sure that has anything to do with this terrible discomfort I feel.
The rain has been nonstop for days, and while I love rain for all its wonderful benefits, when it’s like this in Florida for weeks on end, it gets old. You keep the AC running so you don’t drown in the humidity, but you still feel sticky…and icky. I have been in a serious downward mood spiral this past week. Not doing dishes right away, no washer and no money to do laundry. No money always seems to effect my mood, even if I say it doesn’t bother me to be poor. It is this thing, this elephant in the room…
The isolation is not helping my mental state, either. I already withdraw from society due to my Bipolar Disorder, and PTSD, this situation just adds to it. I had a psychiatrist tell me once, when I had not been permitted to drive due to an undiagnosed seizure condition, that if I did not drive, at least once in a while, that I would probably lose the ability to – due to fear. I can really understand that now, and how it would be so easy to let that happen with the act of going out in public too.
I love the outdoors, but I feel so exposed when I walk in my neighborhood. The people are not very nice, all absorbed in their own little nightmares. I have alienated some, but I really try to be considerate and helpful. I cut the grass of my closest neighbors, just out of kindness. Maybe that’s nutty, but it makes me feel closer to God.
I feel like I messed up yesterday, by letting my crazy neighbor push my buttons about feral cats. It was SO stupid, but I got so upset that I swore at him, loudly, not just once, but a couple times… He was trying to get me upset on purpose, I could see it in his eyes, and after I lost it I felt so ashamed.
I could just hear the sniggering laughter of the tormentor, when I went over the edge and saw red. I want to cry now, just remembering. I did not give a good witness. I am trying to do more witnessing, people need hope more than ever right now. And the dark side rears its head so easily when you are under stress, or feeling hopeless. I want to be one to offer the hope of God’s promises to hurting people. I want to be an example of the grace my God, Jehovah, provides. To shine his beautiful love like a mirror. I can’t do that with my mouth all twisted around swear words.
Now that I remember that incident, that could have much to do with how I am feeling now. I think this ugly feeling is due to letting that incident stay with me, the shame and guilt I feel for failing. I did pray for forgiveness, and I know God hears me, but perhaps I did not let go of it myself?
The other thing I am realizing is what I learned about the devil’s tactics, that perhaps I had forgotten. He knows what works against humans. He’s had 6000 years to study humans, and one of his favorite tools is discouragement. It is poison to a cheerful heart. I also know that all those years I hid in the darkness, afraid to change, afraid to get well, to get clean… that I was afraid of what he would do to me if I did.
I know now that I was afraid of the wrong person. Because Jehovah God is more powerful than anything that the evil one can do. In the Bible it says at Proverbs 18:10:”The name of Jehovah is a strong tower. Into it the righteous run and are given protection.” Also in the book of Psalms,61:3 it reads:”For you are my refuge, a strong tower that protects me from the enemy.”
We know that we have help to keep fighting the good fight, God gave us His Word, the Bible, as a beautiful guidebook. And he gave his perfect, powerful Son, Jesus Christ, as King of God’s Kingdom, now reigning in the heavens!!! It is so close to being here on the Earth, just a short time more and all God’s Promises will be fulfilled! Just hold on, my friends.
In my mind’s eye I can see children playing in the grass with lion cubs, while bright birds of every color sing from every tree. The smell of good food cooking, as friends and family from every nation gather around to enjoy it. Laughter and music fill the air, there are no wheelchairs or canes, no graveyards or people crying over dead loved ones. I look up from the table where I sit and see my Mom walking towards me, smiling, Young and healthy…alive again. And look! There is Dad! He looks great! He talks to me and his mind is clear and sane… I see people I have loved and lost all around me, and famous people from the long distant past! Hey, isn’t that Moses? He looks exactly like I imagined, and he’s chatting with some celebrity from years ago….And there, isn’t that Michaelangelo the artist? Guess what, he is teaching me to paint like he does! And Motzart will teach you how to play piano!! Do you think Beethoven is coming back too? Well, yes, everyone is, like it tells us in the Bible where Jesus said at John 5:28:”Do not be amazed at this, for the hour is coming when all those in the memorial tombs will hear his voice and come out”!!!
It will happen, soon. I want all of us to be there, to live lives free from pain, free from hatred, free from the last enemy, death. Keep putting your next foot forward, and don’t look back. I think I glimpsed my wrecked past today, but I’ve turned back to the path ahead now, and I don’t feel ugly or angry anymore.
Thank you, dear reader, for listening. And
THANK YOU, MY WONDERFUL GOD, FOR YOUR GREAT SACRIFICE OF YOUR ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, CHRIST JESUS. FOR THRU HIM YOU GAVE ALL MANKIND AN OPPORTUNITY TO TURN AROUND, LEARN YOUR WILL, PUT FAITH IN JESUS AND PROCLAIM THEIR DEDICATION AND LOYALTY TO YOU, JEHOVAH. Thank you so much dear Father, for this chance to live forever in paradise…In JESUS NAME, amen.
Psalm 83:18: May people know that you, whose name is JEHOVAH, YOU ALONEare Most High over All the earth.
I don’t feel angry anymore…i feel humble, grateful, safe and loved…
Life on the southern Gulf Coast of Florida is pleasant for a portion of the year, when on the subject of weather. When I moved to South Florida in the early ’80’s we enjoyed it most of the year, and the few hottest months were July thru September. Then the most refreshing, crisp and dry air would blow in and it would be blissful. Cool mornings, maybe a light sweater , warm afternoons in Tee Shirts and Tank tops, and shorts – always shorts. Then in mid-December thru the beginning of February, a cold snap, which in Florida means below 50.
In the first 20 years I lived on the east coast of Florida, in a “little” town called Port Saint Lucie, which no one had ever heard of. (It now has more people than West Palm Beach.) Anyway, that fact is only significant to this post in that the climate may have been a tiny bit different to where I live now. I did come over to this city fairly often, tho’, because my Grandparents lived here. When I did, it was always pretty much like what we had across the state. Bearable, enjoyable, habitable.
I spent about 10 years away during my marriage, but visited often enough to know that the summers seemed to be warmer, and the winters colder. I never thought much about it – everyone has air conditioners here, and I was young enough not to let the temperature effect me, one way or the other. But then I moved back to Florida, to PSL, in the late 90’s. We had never had a hurricane in that town, going back 50 years, then in 2004 we had 2, back to back, and suddenly we all were faced with the reality of climate change. Sure, I had been thru major Tropical Storms and Depressions, and many torrential rainfalls. I thought a hurricane was pretty exciting stuff…at first. Then I lived thru one.
The thing is, one can not really accurately convey the real experience of living thru a hurricane. You can get close to it, thru video footage these days. However, you only see a snippet. These things go on for 10, 12, 14 hours at full peak sometimes, when it hits dead on. You go mad with that squealling, screaming, demonic wind tearing at your dwelling. You think you are prepared as you hunker down with some snacks. You watch the progress of the storm on TV as it marches closer, and the rain begins, and a little knot of tension niggles in your tummy.
Oh, it won’t be so bad, Dad says with a pat on your shoulder. Just a little blow… Then the power goes out and the hours go by in eerie flashlight glow, until you decide to conserve battery. As the wind starts to pick up more, you peer outside thru the hurricane shutters, and your nerves start to fray as you see your favorite hibiscus totally denuded, and your palm trees bending in impossible ways. More hours pass, the lack of AC has caused everyone to drip with sweat, and you must not open the fridge because all the food will spoil. Hopefully the coolers you filled with ice and provisions will last.
Then you try to sleep. But that wind, that screaming wind- you realize that other sound you hear is your shingles blowing off, and your neighbors shingles pelt you house like gunfire. A tree falls with a horrible crash onto the porch, but you are helpless. Mom is crying, the dog is frantic, the heat is sweltering, the noise is deafening. When will it end?
You doze for what seems like a second, than a horrible loud creaking begins. You realize with horror that its the roof starting to go, or the plywood giving way, or maybe the metal carport being ripped off and flying around like some nightmare vision of hell. You huddle closer, then decide its time to go into the saferoom, your tiny bathroom where you have already stashed a mattress. Dad shouts, Get Mum under there, and you pull her from where she clings and help her under the mattress. The dog won’t come, he’s run away, but you can’t look because you ,too, are terrified. Shoving in under the mattress you hold tight to your Mom while the wailing wind, like a banshee, rips away your new addition like matchsticks. Dad, you scream, but the wind rips your words away, you hear yourself praying, begging for the storm to end, for your Dad, your Mom, your dog to live….but it just keeps going. Finally Dad pushes his way thru the door in a burst, soaking wet, holding the dog, you can’t see but feel the fur and smell its hot breath. Then Dad, swearing presses in with you, and you all silently cling to each other as the hours slowly tick past.
Later, after the wind subsides, you all find places to sleep, couch, bed, recliner, sleeping and sweating and grateful. Until daylight comes. And you see the aftermath…