Chapter 2: God Was Close

Part 1, "Innocence Lost"

Fathers, do not embitter your children - Col. 3:21 (NIV)

Do not have sexual relations with both a woman and her daughter - Lev. 18:17 (NIV)

> Snow falls quietly in massive, heavy flakes and crochets an opalescent blanket over the lawn. I'm warm inside as I watch from my office window. How silent and clean it is. Ever wonder how some people can live in such an amazingly wondrous world and only see the ugly?

> You will find this chapter disturbing; child abuse is always disturbing. Abuse of a sexual nature leaves canyon deep scars that never disappear.

> There is no need for details beyond what is needed to convey the meaning of the text. I will make every effort to keep my literary as tasteful as possible (if, in deed, it can be called "tasteful" at all). It would be great to inject some humor along the way, but the idea feels awkward in light of my subject.

> About the time I turned ten years of age, in an effort to provide her children with more, Mother remarried. It was a second marriage for her but a third for him. I don't think she truly loved him, not the way she loved my father. Not until this day; writing this text, at this moment, did I realize how much he looked like my father. Darken his hair and shorten him by six inches, they could have been brothers. He did lack the outward playful nature of my father.

> He had a good job and a car. We went on family trips. He made purchases at auction for the household and gifts for Mother. He was friendly with Pop. He didn't take us to church or say grace at the table. Looking back, I don't remember him ever saying anything about God - or Jesus. The family unit changed with a father figure at the head of the table during supper and breakfast on the weekends. Interesting: Pop had never took that seat preferring to stand and serve during meals. (I suspect Pop ate after all of us were finished.) He went fishing and hunting with Pop and my uncle who lived next door. His parents had a wonderful farm with lots of animals and I loved to visit there; darling, accommodating people.

10 year old author

> I was first to set the example of accepting him into a role that each of us children needed. I was the first to call him "Daddy". This thought sickens me today. That soon changed. I will not write his name because I came to detest the name whether borne by him or any other man. I came to sicken myself at his personal habits and preferences; like ketchup on eggs and sugar on tomatoes. To this day, I cannot bear to be in a room with a man smoking a cigar.

> This man made use of both my sister and me for a couple of years. There was never a thought on my part that he had involved her. As a child, I remember thinking, "At least he isn't bothering Karen". He frequently visited me at my bedside after the house was asleep and Mother was at work on late shift. Karen and I shared a room and that left her subject to my vocal pleas of "No, please don't, stop it, I don't want to." He would softly chasten, "Shhhh" "You'll wake your sister", "You'll wake your grandfather", "This is our secret." "We don't want anyone to know". "YOU"LL get in trouble."

* To be continued . . . 

* This continuing story begins with the post on Dec. 30, 2024

See "Entertaining Angels Unaware"

 

 

"You're Just a Bunch of Little Heathens"

She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family.
She speaks with wisdom and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
(Quotes from Proverbs 31)

 
> Naomi Bonnilee Radner (ficticious name) was my proud, fiercely independent mother. Since she was the greatest influence of my life, there needs to be enough about her that the reader can understand just how much of an influence. For such a woman to be my mother is evidence that God loves me.

 
> She was the middle child of nine siblings. I thought she was perfect and the most beautiful woman in the world. Raven hair and dark eyes with olive complexion that tanned to bronze in the summer along with her good proportioning, gave her the appearance of a doll. Five foot/two inches in stocking feet, she was always a lady and fiercely outspoken. A "tomboy" as a child, she could, and would, stand up to anyone. The proof was her nose; a wide flat nose that had been broken three times: first, tumbling from a tree, and twice from fighting. She frequently informed me that she once had a pretty nose - just like mine.

 
> She loved and missed my father to the day she died. After he left, with a teenage waitress, I remember nights hearing her cry herself to sleep. Their relationship caused her so much emotional pain that she made wrong choices more than once. She wore a tough shell about herself that kept her emotionally out of reach in order to protect that softest of hearts. One of Mother's proverbs: "You can't choose who your heart will love."

 
> Faithful and generous to a fault, mom was fond of telling us there was always someone worse off than we were. I remember a couple Christmases that we were required to give up a possession that was in good condition (preferably something we cared for.) This was how we were to learn sacrifice for someone else and the joy of giving. You do not give something that you yourself would not want and there was always something to replace it.

 
> Ever heard the teaching that you are to do as though you were doing it for/giving it to Jesus Himself - ? Mother was that example.

 
> She also had a lot of "proverbs" that were frequently repeated. "Tell me anything but a lie" and "You can do anything you put your mind to" are only two of the dozens that come to mind. My all-time favorite, "You're just a bunch of little heathens". When I was an adolescent, she was fond of telling me I was special. Mom was sure I was going to do something that would prove it. I needed to hear her assurances but took them as just a mother's love.

 
> Mother was a vain woman with a definite idea of how a lady should conduct herself and how she should dress. She grew up in a time when ladies wore hats and gloves to go shopping and television commercials showed housewives with hair combed, make up on and aprons over their dresses.

 
> Mom never went out of the house without makeup, hair combed and coordinated clothes. She detested jeans for women and bare legs were out of the question; stocking were required. All this from a girl who came from a large farmer's family who lived grew up climbing trees in the countryside.

 
> STORY: A particular day comes to mind when I was going to visit my grandfather in the VA hospital. I was a grown, married woman at the time. It was the 1960's, the age of "bra burning". I stopped at mother's house along the way. When I came in the door, she immediately demanded to know where I was going "like that". I responded "to see Pop". "Not like that, you're not" was her decree. She took me into the bedroom and "put" a bra on me. That was that.

 
> She was stylish and loved "layaway" for quality items. "You get what you pay for" wan another of "Naomi's proverbs". She would deny herself something if one of her children was in need but she did not deny herself. That was part of the lesson that taught us to respect her. "You have to respect yourself to get respect from others".

 
To be continued . . . .