Love’s the Only House , livre ebook

Xlibris US - Debra Godsee

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

58 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

Love’s the Only House is an autobiography of a mother’s life from her childhood to the estrangement of her children throughout their childhood. It is a long letter to her previously estranged sons explaining the events that took place leading up to the estrangement and summarizing all she’d been through to get them back in her life. It may also be enlightening to those who suspect child abuse. This book is explicit, as she describes the reasons she suspected abuse. This book is not intended for young readers.

Sujets

Love's the Only House

Biography

General officer

General

Autobiography

Informations

Publié par	Xlibris US
Date de parution	16 février 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781796016567
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Love’s The Only House

Debra Godsee

Copyright © 2019 by Debra Godsee.

ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-7960-1632-1

Softcover
978-1-7960-1633-8

eBook
978-1-7960-1656-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 10/03/2022

Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
792461
CONTENTS
Life Line
My Father’s Eyes
Perfection In The Peach State
Trouble On The Sea
A Family Of My Own
Broken Vessel
Rainy Day Fridays
Violations Of My Spirit
Cold July
Train Up A Child
When Nightmare Turns To Reality And Reality A Dream
Forever Friend
Life Without You
About The Author

Life Line

LIFE LINE
Hello there. I’m Dee short for Debra…
“W here are you from?”, These words ringing my head like a recorder so many times said! Should I be rude and, matter fact stating, “From my momma!”? “Who are your mother, father, and brother?”…Should I say the North as I was born there? Should I say the South where I was raised for the most of eight years of my childhood. Or maybe I should say, middle East where I’ve resided most of my adulthood. I wish to say the coast as I’ve been there Many, not only every Day Dream but my feet have also touched the coasts often. I could proudly say Tennessee as it was my favorite of my adult years, with my Pretio and Jeremy. Truth is…I don’t know! There is very little I do know about myself and perhaps this is why I begin to write.
In the busy city of Nashua, a baby girl entered the lives of Americans everywhere, on the liberating summer’s morn of July 1974. Little did they know how this girl would rule and ruin their hopes and dreams for the future of all involved.
My first memory . . . You asked. I will never forget it, as it is truly one of the many perfect days in the innocence of my childhood, with horses becoming one of my first loves! Strolling the path with Momma, excitement filled my heart; as I anticipated the wind in my face, while riding back and forth on my favorite horse swing, at the tender age of one and a half.
Shortly before or after my second birthday, Daddy moved our family of three to Missouri, with high hopes of attaining his degree in Theology. It was around this time that I recall the next best love of my life–music. For Christmas, I was given a record player in a blue box with a little, white handle enabling me to carry it. Wherever I wished. Along with it came a record with lots of cool Christian songs, sung by a children’s choir. I remember thinking, it looked and sounded like, they really knew how to “get down”, as their pictures on the cover attracted my eyes. I had every word of the record memorized by age five.
After Daddy’s last year of college, we moved, again, to a small town in Minnesota. Where we lived near a close ex-colleague of my Daddy’s. We lived in the most awesome, three-story home. The basement was my playground. Unlike most basements, the furnace kept this one warm with a steady hum in the background. My first, best friend would visit my home, regularly, to play and spend the night. Once, our families took a long trip together, in two separate cars. He had climbed in the back of the car on the shelf in the window and threw me the I love you sign. I’ll never forget how important I felt, dazing off into the distance.
I remember oatmeal with sugar, nighttime prayers with Daddy, my dolly that peeped, my neighbor’s mom angered, because her little girl had gum in her hair, and oddly enough their three-legged dog! Have you ever seen a three-legged dog? I have; he was a three-legged, medium-sized dog that never did seem to have any problem getting around. To me, the dog’s excitedly, happy personality made him seem ever so normal. Even at the age of three, a strange, awesome sight to see. I guess that is why I never forgot it.
I remember Dad and Mom’s ability to create such a safe and peaceful home, that I felt an attachment with my mother, and the loneliness I felt upon her leaving me to go to school.
I was so distraught that she gave up school to stay with me. In kindergarten, I can re-envision the puppet shows, the dress-ups, and the walks around the block while singing Old McDo nald !
In 1978, my first, little brother was born. I thought he was my very own, little doll. I tried to take care of him, taking him out of his baby swing. When Momma had walked around the corner frightening me, ’cause I realized I was in over my head.
Still, my most significant memory would have to be the day of my salvation. I came to the knowledge of Jesus Christ and his death on the cross for me, while also carrying a deep need to tell anyone who would listen. Momma says an older girl, from our church, spent the night with me, at this time. I suppose it was between my record, Daddy’s bedtime prayers, and her testimony, that my heart was ready to receive. All this before my fifth birthday!
Oh, I know. You only asked one question, my first memory, right? So now your asking, “Why is she going on, and on, and on about silly memories?!” Well, I say to you . . . Too many times, we undermine the importance of the minds of our babies, from the ages of conception to five years old! I think it is important we know the abilities of a child’s mind to feel, think, and remember, before the age of five.
After all, look at the old stories of Moses and Samuel in the Bible. Both of these boys suffered a painful and traumatic separation, from their Momma, at the tender age of five, or earlier. Still, God used these two men, in a mighty, mighty way. Were it not for their families having pumped as much knowledge into their minds, before being forced to turn them over to the care of another!
No matter, I do believe we must take a warning and a promise from this!!! The rest is in our hands. What will we do with the first five years of our baby’s lives?

My Father’s Eyes

MY FATHER’S EYES
M y childhood was a very enjoyable time, in my life. My parents always took the time to play with us. Often, we traveled to places such as parks, pools, resorts, amusement parks, campgrounds, and beaches. You name it we probably tried it!
From Minnesota, Daddy was called to serve as a pastor, in Georgia. So, we packed up and headed south.
Daddy did preach for several Sundays at the church, which was desperately needing a pastor. However, still babies in the faith, ourselves. Daddy decided he did not feel qualified to take the job. Instead, we became content, sitting under an elderly Pastor preaching at an old, country church in a small town there in Georgia. This, I must say had to be the best decision my Daddy ever made! We attended services, faithfully, as a family.
Upon our move to this small town, we rented a home near several other families from our church. Daddy was often asked to fill in for the pastor, who would be out of town, on business. Momma began a carrier, as a second-grade teacher in a private school supported by the church.
It wasn’t long, after our move, that Daddy had the opportunity to buy the only bakery in our small town. Prior to this, he had been working as the third shift baker. The business flourished, as well as our faith from the continual feeding of the meat of the Word of God.
Before long, we moved to a three-bedroom, brick, ranch house way out in the country. Immediately, my brother and I fell in love with this home and the land surrounding us. Climbing the arms of the trees, we would pretend the branches were each a separate room of our pretend home. Still, yet, another tree gave us free passage to the roof of our parent’s ranch home.
Daddy and Momma always had a unique form of discipline, which always came across to me in a loving manner. For instance . . . I, particularly, remember the day my brother and I was stomping in mud puddles. We had previously been warned to stay away from them. So, attempting to sound mean, Daddy told Momma in his rough voice to strip us down to our underwear and hose us with the piercing, cold water! SHE DID!
Being the little brat, that I often was, I loved to see how many times I could trick my brother into eating the grass seeds that grew on our lawn. I would tell him to hold the long grass in his mouth, and once he did, I would pull on the end of the grass causing the seeds to end up in his mouth. Another time, I ‘risked’ my own life to rescue him from a killer, guard dog, who lived just a little way down our dirt road, while we were walking to our Uncle’s trailer.
An elderly man was one of our neighbors, who often kept his eye on us, as he must have thought us quite the neighborhood pests. I remember him, though, because he had a hole in his throat and when he would be talking to Momma, he would have to use a machine that he held in his hands. I couldn’t understand him, but I was sure he was tattling on us for getting in his garden, and eating his green beans, or for swinging on the set in his front yard! My best girl friend at the time and short-lived neighbor left me feeling lonely when she moved away. Still, not without