Why doesn't she leave-Part 2

Yesterday,I discussed my story and how it was I ended up in a domestic violence situation.


I apologize it 's long but felt I had to do it that way to give the background how someone gets into that situation.


I feel once folks know how it can happen they can be compassionate and proactive when it happens.


I left you with my total despair at the loss of my marriage and how used I was by my then husband.


He had not one compassionate bone in his body at that moment. I didn't even recognize this person I had known almost a quarter of a century.


I waited for the end to come without saying a word.I didn't want to live and I wanted to never feel the hurt I had felt all my life again.


I was silent,mute.


I guess I drifted into unconsciousness. I, of course, don't remember.


I am told it was longer than an hour before he called 911.He didn't want to be embarrassed because we both belonged to the local fire department and the paramedics would know us.


I am also told he left me alone and went to the local Walgreens to purchase syrup of Ipecac to make me vomit the contents of my stomach.


I know you should never induce vomiting in an unconscious person and he knew it too.He was a certified EMT.


To this day I have a few friends who think he should be guilty of attempted murder.



Apparently,I was taken to the hospital and my stomach pumped and was given some kind of charcoal stuff to absorb what might be left in my system.As a side note, let me tell you that is bad stuff and would keep me from ever attempting it again.



I came to in the afternoon with my family and a couple friends in the room.


I was so disgusted with myself that I had failed and would live to be hurt over and over again.I knew I could never have whatever it took to do this again.


Paul tried to apologize for his words pushing me over the edge but I just couldn't believe he was truly remorseful.I somehow knew his hurting me would go and on if I allowed him back into my life.I remember vaguely screaming at him to leave.



I was transferred to a psychiatric hospital on the other side of Houston.I was told by Paul when he and the kids came to visit me 2 days later that it was 58 miles one way and didn't intend to make a second trip.


I was hospitalized for a week.


In that time I met another patient.He was intriguing to me. He wasn't really like so many of the other patients.His illness wasn't outward.Neither was mine. To just observe us we didn't manifest mental illness symptoms.


I was diagnosed with acute clinical depression and bipolar disorder.


I really had no idea what bipolar was or what it meant even though I had a brother who was schizophrenic and bipolar. I knew most of the symptoms I had witnessed with him were from the schizophrenia;I really didn't know the bipolar symptoms and I was grateful I had only inherited the bipolar disorder. I learned that bipolar is/can be hereditary.



The staff after hearing my life history said they were not surprised I was there but surprised it had taken so long for me to to get there.


During my stay I became friendly with this man,Oscar. I could have an intelligent conversation.He wasn't hitting on me. He seemed quiet and in control. He liked to play rummy as I did so we played game after game.


At that time,in my insane state I felt he was a good friend.


It came time for us to be released.I called Paul because I didn't know anyone else to call to come pick me up and take me to my condo.


My car was parked there and I had no cash on me.


He refused.


My only other option I knew was to take a taxi and stop and get the money from the ATM and it would take just about all I had in my account.It was my only alternative.


Oscar had been working with the powers that be at the institution to provide him transportation but he really had no place to go home to.


So between us we cooked up this hare-brained idea that made perfect sense at the time for him to get the transportation and he could come home with me.


It was coming up on 4th of July weekend, a few days before it was Mandy's birthday and I knew she wouldn't speak to me.None of the family would.


I was virtually alone and lonely.


I was afraid to be alone with myself.Not just afraid,terrified.I couldn't promise I wouldn't harm myself again.


I was so grateful to have someone with me,to be accountable to;someone who understood what I was going through,to watch me.To get me help if I needed it.


To this day I believe I owe him my life for if it hadn't been for him I doubt I'd be alive.


I couldn't have cared any less about myself at that time.


We began a deep friendship. I was out of work due to the mental state for a few weeks receiving outpatient care.


We spent hours upon hours sharing our life histories and how we got to where we were at that time.


He was Christian as was I.We shared a faith that was a bond between us.


He had financial resources I didn't have.


For his living there he got cable turned on,helped me with bills since I was out of work. My savings was depleted from the wedding and I wouldn't get my short term disability check until after I returned to work. I knew it took forever to get it.


I was between a rock and hard place and so was Oscar. I could scratch his back and he could scratch mine.


Eventually, I returned to work and he stayed home and took care of cleaning, laundry and cooking and seemed to enjoy it.


After a few months I came home to him gone and no word where he was.


That was the beginning of a long,hard process of learning what it was to live with a drug addict.


That was his demon, drugs-crack cocaine to be specific.


He would disappear for a couple days and return and be remorseful and not use again for months.


After each time when he'd return it would be bliss, happiness, contentment. I wanted to believe each time was the last time.

After awhile it was feeling we were falling in love as strange as it may be.

We wanted to believe it was a "God thing" that we had found each other.

We went to church, did our Bible study every day, watched Christian TV, listened to Christian music.

No one else I had been involved with professed his love for Jesus the way this man did.

We were an interracial couple and had abuse from the outside world but it didn't bother us.

I never thought about the color of his skin. He was just like me in my eyes.


He seemed in tune with me. He knew when I was down or tired or frazzled.

He offered comfort where the others abandoned me at those times and sought out the comfort of others.

He was letting me see into himself in a very personal way.

I was building a relationship with his family whereas mine had left me in the dust because "I was crazy".

It might be contagious and it sure as hell was uncomfortable and a stigma attached.

As much as I invited them into my world as it was then no one obliged.

The kids didn't check on me to see if I needed anything.

I was extremely hurt but just stuffed it down and went on with life as it was.

More and more I became dependant on Oscar.

He was the only family I had at that time.

I was accepted,warts and all.

He treated me as an equal.

We would laugh and joke around.

We took long car rides and discovered new places neither of us knew before.

We took walks in the park near the house every day.We had picnics and fed the ducks.

We developed friendships unrelated to our past lives before we knew each other.



He bought my clothes and had excellent taste. He would laugh at my goof ups and we developed our own private jokes.

We said grace before meals and knelt at the bed and prayed together before bedtime.Our faith grew stronger and much of our lives was centered around church.

I was living the life I thought I always wanted.

We grew closer and closer.



Eventually, we were engaged. Our church was helping plan a wedding when we were ready. We received counseling from our pastor to prepare for the marriage.

Meanwhile the only of my four children who had contact with me was Dan.

He never gave up on me, unconditional love for his Mom.



Then he would go out and use again and the cycle would start all over.He was sorry.We'd pray harder. We became more involved in church.

I became sicker with my fibromyalgia and its symptoms which were many.

He encouraged me to leave my job.I eventually did and began working back at a convenience store around the corner from the house.I had worked there before and it seemed suited to me.



He's take me to work,even though I could walk, it was so close. He'd cook breakfast for me before work if I worked in the morning.He'd cook lunch or dinner if I worked a later shift.

He's pick me up after work.

He's run all the errands. He took care of the bills so I didn't have to worry about it.

I became even sicker.

He eventually talked me into quitting work and he would support me.After all, we were going to be married.

He helped me file for SSD so I could have my own income and get medical benefits.



What I didn't know and understand at the time he was grooming me for domestic violence.

It was classic.

He began to be verbally abusive at times.He would convince me it was my fault in one way or another.

He controlled the finances since I didn't work.

He bought the groceries and took over the responsibilities of the bills.

He became possessive.At first it was kind of cute because no one had ever "cared" about me like that.It quickly became a nuisance.

He began to accuse me of things that weren't happening.He gained further control over my everyday life. When we would take walks he constanly accused me of looking at other men.I learned to walk with my head down.From his insane perspective he believed it was real no matter how hard I convinced him it wasn't.He would punch me in the head for looking at other people.I dreaded running into someone I knew because I knew they'd want to stop and have a friendly conversation but I would have hell to pay later.



Now,instead of walking for fun it became a chore,I had to because he insisted.The picnics and feeding the ducks stopped.

The long drives ceased. Any shopping on my part stopped because he couldn't afford it or decided it wasn't worthwhile.Also.I would be accused of flirting while I was away from him.
There were times he'd want me to walk to the convenience store to get cigarettes but I was timed.If I wasn't back in 7 minutes I knew it wasn't going to be pleasant when I got home. You might wonder why I didn't use those opportunities to get away.I was terrified if it didn't work he's find me and kill me and harm whomever helped me.
I did call my ex once;he lived less than 5 minutes away.He refused me any help.All I wanted was trasportation to get far enough away he couldn't find me.

My friendships were stopping because he'd point out how this one and that one were trying to cause trouble.



The verbal abuse started included name calling and vile cursing,worse than ever.The venom that came from his mouth was unbelievable, demeaning and humiliating.

The church attendance was forced;it was controlled.I could only belong to whatever group he decided was worthwhile.

He came to every doctors appointment I had and came into the rooms with me.He determined if this doctor or that doctor was treating me satisfactorily.At first it seemed he did have my best interest at heart because a couple of them were negligible.After awhile it was a control issue.

In the early years he was very sympathetic and understanding of my health issues.

As time wore on he said I was using it for attention.



He became frustrated and angry that my SSD wasn't forthcoming and I had to appeal and reappeal.

I drew out my 401 K to help with the finances.I cashed in stock I had while working.

He began to throw up to me I wasn't helping but repaying him for what he'd spent already so I still owed him.



I became severely depressed and despondent.Trying to anticipate his moods and outbursts taxed whatever physical energy I had. His outbursts were more frequent,then daily,then almost hourly.
Always, he proclained love for me.




He eventually said he wanted me to leave.I had gone back to work very part time,15 hours a week at a little restaurant in the neighborhood.

Dan and Jennie were gracious enough to allow me to come live with them in Ohio.I took what little money I had and what little he so "generously" gave to me complete with a tirade and left TX for Ohio.

I was rid of him I thought.

He called every day,more than once a day.If we weren't home or asleep he left messages.The messages became more belligerent.

On one hand he wanted me out of his life and the other he still wanted the control.



Dan And Jennie were in a financial crisis themselves the whole time I was there.I was ill and couldn't work and knew I was a drain on them although they never would have thought of me as that way.

It came time they had to move into an apartment and I couldn't have them incur more expense because I was with them.I would pray and pray my SSD would get settled so I could help them out.It didn't come through for a couple more years.



While I was in OH Oscar suffered a couple heart attacks and had reconstructive knee surgery.

At the time Dan and Jennie were making plans to move he presented me with an offer.

He had moved to a bigger place and he needed in home care.

Why didn't I come back and we would live as roommates and I could help with his physical care for a place to stay.

At that point it seemed like the most feasible plan I could come up with.



The very day I returned as he picked me up from the bus station (I had left my car with Dan and Jennie) instead of going straight home,Oscar made a run into Houston for drugs.Never had he done them at home before when I was with him nor had he ever done them around me.I was now a captive audience in the truest sense of the word.



I was drawn into the life of a crack addict in full blown using.It was frightening to me.The paranoia he had was enough to keep me in a constant state of alert.

I couldn't believe how rundown and shoddy the furniture we had purchased together had become while I was away.

No real food in the house. The place was shabby and unkempt.

The extra bedroom that was supposed to be ready for me when I arrived was bare;I was to sleep on the couch.

I couldn't have the TV on due to his paranoia.He checked the windows and doors every 5 minutes literally.Blankets were up anywhere he thought someone could see in even places that made no sense but I learned quickly not to question.



I couldn't get a drink of water or use the bathroom without him becoming increasingly angry claiming I made too much noise.

I fell asleep on the couch only to wake up to him rummaging through my purse to see if I had money he could get at to go get more drugs.



The next day he was somewhat more stable and went to a church to collect a couple bags of food for us to eat.Never had he stooped so low when I had been with him before.



Each day became increasingly worse.He made contacts for his drug dealer in order to get drugs.His health was affected.He basically never groomed.

He was terribly verbally abusive in ways I never knew he could be before.



He became cruel,downright cruel. He withheld anything he thought I would want and most of what I needed. Nothing I could do was correct.No matter what I thought it was wrong.
He would wait til I was asleep and take my blanket saying I didn't deserve one.I hadn't earned it.

The verbal abuse turned into financial and psychological abuse.

It was affecting my health in a very negative way and that didn't matter to him.I was again seeking attention.



I was shaking all the time and becoming more impaired in my thought process having to constantly second guess him never knowing what would set him off. I was scared for myself because my thinking was so impaired.I literally had to think second by second afraid I'd do something else to irrate him and set him off again.



Then it turned physical.I don't even remember the first time he hit me what it was for because once he did it the first time it's like it opened the floodgates.

I became the scapegoat for every wrong that had ever happened to him in his entire life.



The physical abuse was unrelenting.

I knew I had to get away;I just had to figure out how.

At first it was just a seed I had planted in my head.

He controlled every minute of my days.



He decided what medicine I could take and how it was dispensed.At times he tried to overdose me and I would bar my mouth and he would squeeze my face until he could get it into my mouth.

I would hold it under my tongue and wait til I could get to the bathroom and spit it out.Sometimes I ended up having it dissolve in my mouth because he would even follow me into the bathroom.It was his paranoia.

He determined if I could bathe and groom myself.

He removed the shower curtain of the bathroom I used and would watch me take a bath and make sure I "wasn't taking too long".

My IBS symptoms were at an all time high.He accused me of faking that too.

He accused me of faking the effects of my medicine.



He determined when and if I could eat.He barred me from the kitchen.It was "his" food,"his" kitchen.He was paying for it.

All the while he continued to use the drugs and often forcing me to go with him when he went on his runs. I saw the worse of the worst of downtown Houston and all the filth and seediness that accompanies those who frequent that behavior.

He would make his score and then put them into my purse so if he was caught or stopped I would take the fall instead of him.

I can't tell you how many prayers I prayed during those times.



Finally,one Friday afternoon after a drug run he was being chased down by someone involved with the drugs,I guess it was a drug dealer.He was speeding through this seedy area of Houston,taking chances,car on two wheels,going the wrong way on one way streets trying to lose this character.This seemed to last forever but I guess in reality it was 20-30 minutes.

I just couldn't believe somehow I had allowed myself to get into this mess.



As luck or as I prefer to believe Divine Providence set in.

His car overheated and he still continued to use the car until the engine blew on I-45 in downtown Houston in rush hour traffic.

I had decided even if I was caught with the drugs being in jail was better than living with him.



He got the car to the side of the road and eventually a wrecker came by and he negotiated a deal to get us and the car home.

He used worse than ever that night.Then he was in a rage when it was gone.

Somehow,that was all my fault and he began to beat on me as if his life depended on it.

I didn't think it was going to stop. He choked me and as I would find out later that would happen with more and more frequency.My glasses became mangled.



He determined if I could have a cup of coffee in the mornings.He knew that was one of the things I enjoyed so he used it against me.After a couple weeks I got smart and acted like I didn't want it anymore.Then he forced me to drink cup after cup.



I had no appetite because my stomach was torn into knots.He would force me to eat by holding my mouth open.

I constantly shook from nerves.Of course,I was doing that to annoy him.He didn't like the way I breathed. I had to force myself to take shallow breaths as quietly as I could.Sometimes it didn't work and I'd get smacked in the head.

If I spoke without his permission I was punched across the mouth.I was cowering and withdrawing more and more into myself.

He didn't like the way I did laundry or cleaned the house even though before he would praise me and brag to others how well I did.

Eventually,I wasn't allowed to attend church anymore because I was too much a sinner and God didn't even want to see me in His house.I wasn't worthy.

He'd come home from church and check star 69 to see if I had called anyone.

Trust me I thought about calling for help when he was gone but knew if help didn't come before he returned my life was in jeopardy.



One Sunday he did have me attend church with him again. He had fallen asleep during the sermon.When we were walking home he berated me for not waking him up.I had tried a couple times and decided to just let him sleep as long as he wasn't snoring.I knew while he was sleeping he wouldn't hurt me.

On the way home he became extremely agitated at me and started hitting me and yanking my hair pulling on me behind him.

As we were cutting through the park he raised his cane at me and I could see in his eyes he could have killed me.I started running until I could find a place to hide.

I stayed there for I don't know how long trying to think of what I should do.

I knew it would be a perfect time to escape but all my things were at the house.I didn't even have my purse.

I finally got up the nerve to return.It was getting cold and I didn't have a sweater with me.



Of course, needless to say I took a behomoth of a beating that evening.



I need to interject in the early stages of the physical abuse he was always sorry and promised it would never happen again and I wanted to believe him.

Towards the end he was never sorry and was sorrier he hadn't hit me harder.



Shortly after that Sunday it became even worse.

He began to knock me into furniture and my legs and arms would have cuts and scrapes.He'd knock me to the floor and kick me. He's pick me up and sling me into the wall.He pick me up again and drag me by my hair.He'd spit on me. He'd find things to abuse me with.He'd pour hot water on me or freezing cold water on me and then shove me outside on the balcony.I would be shivering.



He would shove my head into the toilet and flush it and I'd think I was going to drown.

He would heat up the burners on the stove and put my hand on the hot burner.He'd burn me with cigarettes or the lighter.

He would put hot sauce in my mouth and not let me have water.

He would put pillows over my face trying to smother me.

He would stomp on my fingers and toes.He'd pull on my breasts so hard I wanted to scream but didn't.

Too many times I had so many bruises and cuts that he had to keep me isolated.If someone came over he made me hide in a closet. It was nothing for me to have black eyes, puffed up lips and bloodied nose.



He would wake me up out of a deep sleep and pull me by my clothes and drag me across the floor or throw me into the wall repeatedly and punch and kick me all the time berating me,cursing me, my family,my friends and tell me how useless I was.



After time I was so beaten up and beaten down mentally I didn't care if I lived or died anymore.

He bought the movie "Seven" and forced me to watch it no less than three times a day so I could "see" myself as the seven sins.

He would make me repeat the dialogue over and over.

To this day it's hard for me to watch the actors in that movie in something else and not see them as those characters.



He threatened my family who still lived in TX. He would tell me how he would find them and what he would do when he did.I believed he would.I knew he could.

Just when I would think it couldn't get worse it would.

He started accusing me of poisoning his food.How,I don't know.With what he never told me.

He became even more violent if that was possible.

He began cutting me.He would stab me with a fork when I was caught off guard.

He would repeatedly rape me. He would hold my head down and force me to perform oral sex.



It was almost impossible for me to physically fight back although there were times I tried.

I am 5 ft tall and at that time I guess I was about 150 lbs. he was 6 ft 2 in tall and weighed 325.

It wasn't hard for him to overpower me.



I continued to try to formulate a plan in my head with whatever senses I still had, to escape.I guess my planning was a 2 month process.

It was after Halloween, through Thanksgiving (which by the way was chicken and a can of green beans),and finally my day came December 23rd.

I had a doctors appointment and the landlady was taking me and dropping me off and going to pick me up later.I was to call when I was ready.

I went into my closet and told my possesions good-bye.The few things I had that had survived the flood and I was able to accumulate again.My children's few pictures,a couple rings I intended to pass onto my daughters.



I had the clothes on my back and a jean jacket and my Bible.I didn't need a heavy coat if I was going to be in Maddie's car going to and from the doctor and I knew he would be suspicious.



When I got to the doctors I told them I was a victim of domestic violence and they checked me out.They called the shelter and I was interviewed to make sure this was what I wanted to do.

One of the nurses put me in her car and drove me to the meeting up place for me to be picked up.

The true location of the shelter is never disclosed and to this day I wouldn't divulge its exact location.



I was mentally so beaten down when I entered the shelter they kept me on a sucide watch for 45 days.It wasn't so much that I would harm myself again but that I wouldn't prevent harm if it came to me.As an example,if I were crossing the street and a car was coming at me I wouldn't have jumped out of the way.If I had been diagnosed with cancer I wouldn't have chosen treatment.



Through much therapy and counseling and hard work on my part I got my head straight.I learned why I had made the choices I did based on what I had learned throughout my childhood.

I learned that even though I was an educated person and well read it didn't mean I was able to see the abuse for what it was until it was too late.

Abuse is insiedeous. it starts begnign and escalates.

To me, most abuse looked normal because it was what I had grown up with and as a matter of fact, most of my neighborhood lived under similar circumstances.



I wanted to be loved and accepted for who I was and not just for what I did so bad I'd subject myself to any good story that came down the pike.



I regret that my children were subjected to all this while growing up.I can never go back and change it.

I can only hope my example can show them it's never too late to get help if you need it.I also hope we have broken the silence within the family and we adhere to no more secrets and that I have broken the cycle of violence they have been exposed to.



So why doesn't she leave? She has been beaten down,controlled,manipulated and been threatened.Only until the survival instinct takes over will she likely be able to leave and not go back.

Statistics show that a woman may leave 7-10 times before she can stay away for good.

She feels she has no alternative.

She feels she is worthless and no one would care.

She likely has few resources left available to her.

Her emotional state is fragile and her thinking is askew.

There are many reasons why she won't leave.



And the saddest statistic is that a woman is most unsafe when she has made the decison to leave and does.

We only have to look at Cheryl Dawson to find that statistic is true.



My life is totally different today. I make good choices now.

The relationship I am in today is healthy.

It's hard for me to go back and remember those days just a few years ago.It's painful and I get sick thinking of them.

It was painful to relive them in my writing this.

If even one woman can see herself in my situation and make the choice to get help then it was worth it.

It can stop with you. It doesn't have to continue a lifetime.I was 51 years old the day I entered shelter.It's never too late.

Update: If you or someone you know is in a Domestic Violence situation, please have them call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−SAFE(7233) or TTY 1−800−787−3224.

Related tags: onevoicewalk, one+voice+walk, domestic+violence, domestic+abuse, domestic+violence+stories

Why doesn't she just leave?

I am listening to my son Dan's podcast he taped at the One voice Walk in memory of Cheryl Dawson and other victims of domestic violence.

One victim gives her account of her life living with her abuser.
Her story could be many victims accounts.
Pieces of it could be mine.

I have hesitated to write details of my abuse because I've wanted to shield my children from hearing what their Mother was living.
I wanted to spare them the hurt,pain and embarrassment I perceive they would feel.

I guess I need to start at the beginning. It didn't start in the months preceding my entering a domestic violence women's center or shelter as it is known.

It started in my childhood,I guess it would be fair to say actually at my birth.
I was not planned,my Mother's fifth living child.Her first was stillborn and I truly believe his death shaped the family dynamics forever.

I was premature and cost the family in fiances they were hard pressed to afford.The other kids could be treated by a general physician,I required a pediatrician.
I was always reminded of the circumstances at my birth and early months every birthday and any other occasion my Dad deemed necessary.

I grew up feeling by my mere existence I owed a great debt to my family.I felt ashamed to have caused so much trouble.
Some of my earliest memories are ways I tried to compensate however inept I was at that age.

I never asked for a need to be met.I of course would never expect a want to be taken care.
I tried to eat as little as I could so there would be more for the rest of the siblings.
I took on the responsibility of the 4 younger siblings who followed me at preschool age.
I tried my best to be intuitive of the needs of my family and met them the best I could sometimes before they even knew they needed them.
I grew up a scapegoat and people pleaser.

I was verbally abused almost on a daily basis by my father and even my older brothers.I was reminded that I was an inconvenience.
I will never forget the words of one brother who said to me "when we were told of your impending birth I thought great; it meant we'd have more of nothing".

My father became physically abusive to the point of cruelty as I got older.
I suffered sexual abuse at an early age,my first memories are of age 4 until I was almost married at age 17.
My father was not my sexual abuser but other male members of my immediate family.
I was told once that by using me it kept his girlfriend from becoming pregnant.
I was told I owed it to him by another.
I was told it was happening to protect the little ones.And,even if I told, no one would believe me which turned out to be true at the age of 44 when I finally told my Dad.

One evening the physical abuse by my Dad was so severe he threw me from room to room and my Mom stood by and watched.As a Mother myself,I can't imagine choosing to let someone harm one of my children right before my eyes and not stepping in to stop it.
I don't know if she felt I deserved it,felt too afraid herself to step in but I will never forget her just standing in the doorway and my eyes pleading with her to do something.
I was truly afraid in his rage he would kill me.
I had cuts on my face from hitting the objects I was thrown against and my jaw was badly bruised.I was 15 years old.
He threw me out of the house and even though others interceded on my behalf he had me thrown into the juvenile hall that night.
I slept on a cold floor with a thin blanket and mat and fought off two lesbians.That was my first encounter with that type of sexuality.Until then I hadn't even known it existed.
I loved my Dad but hated him at the same time.

Because of the molestation I suffered from depression and had bouts of rage.My Dad constantly was punishing me for my "temper".
Of course, I know now the relevance of the acting out but back then had no idea why I was the way I was.
The behavior only reinforced how much of a drain I was on my family.
In those days male children had much more importance than female children had anyway and a difficult female child had even less worth.
I attempted suicide more times than I can count.
I became street smart and dared anyone to confront me.
My Mother would say I'd go where angels dared to tread.
I became notorious for my aggressive behavior as if it was a badge of honor.
Finally,I had found a voice.I had become somebody;I wasn't invisible.
I hated it but relished in it at the same time.
I also was what we now know as anorexic.It didn't have the name back then.

Fast forward to first marriage.It also was abusive.As I've learned, no wonder I made that choice.
I learned in therapy we make some of the choices we do in order to psychologically work out unfinished business with someone else such as a parent.You've heard the saying,"she married her father".True.
I was married at 17.I was pregnant.Not by accident but by choice.
I confronted my Mother that summer we wanted to be married because we knew things were progressing to a physical state of no return.
I was told "there would be only one way I'd be married before I finished high school".
So I took that avenue.
In my immature way I saw it as an out of the family home.
After all, he loved me and I'd live happily ever after.

Only days into the marriage I saw a side of this person I had known 2 years already that I didn't see before.
A few months into the marriage I found evidence of adultery.
A year into the marriage I learned it was the start of physical abuse,financial abuse,emotional abuse and spiritual abuse.
In some ways this was even more devastating than living with my family because I chose this life.In my birth family I had no choice.

The children came along,Dan and his sister.In my mind he was a good Dad because he didn't hurt his children.What else did I have to compare to?
He was a lousy husband but we were Catholic and divorce was not heard of.You made your bed so you had to lay in it.

The abuse became more harsh and frequent.I was thrown down the steps.I was punched repeatedly.My jaw was broken once.
Bruises,black eyes,dislocation of joints were frequent.of course,I made excuses and hid what I could.
He was always sorry afterwards.That somehow made it tolerable.
I later learned that's the honeymoon phase of the cycle of violence.
At least he was admitting he was sorry which was something my Dad never did.
So that had to mean he genuinely loved me,I thought.
I never understood how vital the "but" that followed the "I'm sorry's" was.
Anytime an apology is followed by a "but" it negates the statement preceding it.
But,if I hadn't,but if I had,Bit if I would or wouldn't.....

Eventually the marriage fell apart and he filed for divorce.I counter filed and a custody battle ensued.It took months for it to end and was harrowing at times.
The thought of losing my kids was unthinkable and sent me into nervous episodes I could hardly function.He did kidnap the kids once right from my arms while their little fingers were gouged into my skin.I was physically unable to stop him.
He found where I was because I was talked into believing a cop I could trust him.To this day I remember his face and his name.And,I've had somewhat a distrust of law enforcement ever since.
Eventually I prevailed.
The financial abuse continued through irregular support payments.He stole my car away from the parking lot of my apartment complex the night before our divorce hearing.

He made promises never kept that he would help with this or that for the kids.
I learned to be self-sufficient and not depend on him or any man for that matter.

Meanwhile, one of our firemen buddies became a close family friend and we began a romantic liaison after my divorce.
He was a kind and gentle man,very compassionate,very patient, very interested in me and my children and helpful sometimes at a moments notice.He was dependable and I believed I began to love him and he proclaimed to be in love with me.He was the total opposite of what I knew and I found him refreshing.
He begged me to marry him just about on a weekly basis.

During that time I was advised by the child support division to confront my ex about delinquent payments of child support.
How insane that advice was but believing in authority I bought the lie hook,line and sinker.After all,you should be able to trust authority that they know what they are doing.

Long story short,he threw me over the steps and I could see the hatred and anger and rage in his eyes as he did it.I knew if I landed on the basement steps I would die and I had to get Dan and Steph out of there.I twisted my body hard as I could to go into the opposite direction and landed on the landing by the door.I was paralyzed on my whole left side.
He was screaming and cursing me to get up and get out.I told him I couldn't,that I was paralyzed.He ran down the steps,opened the screen door,picked me up by the back of my shirt and shorts and tossed me onto the driveway.
The kids were crying,Stephanie was hysterical.
I couldn't move except for scooting on my good side across the driveway towards the car.
The neighbors across the street came running over to assist me.
I had them get me in the car and start it up.
I was able to steer the car with my good hand and brake with my good foot.
I got us home and sent the kids in to get Paul.

He had me admitted to the hospital under his insurance and said we had just been married and he hadn't had a chance to put me on his insurance.
I was admitted under an assumed name for my safety.Paul watched the kids for me and I had an in home day care and he took off work to take care of the kids I was in charge of as well as a couple parents who took personal days.
I was in his debt and grateful.

He continued to hound me until I finally married him.I was encouraged by family and friends I would never find someone who would love my kids as he did and someone who adored me as he did.I didn't trust my own judgement that I wasn't ready for another commitment at that time so 7 months to the day of my divorce I was remarried.

He changed on me literally on our wedding night and never was the man I had known all along.
He wasn't physically abusive but emotionally detached from me.I didn't understand it then but it was the quest of "winning " me that was the challenge.Once I was his so to speak it was over.
We remained legally married for 22 long years.
It wasn't always bad but it sure was hardly ever good.
Two more children came along to mix in with my previous 2 and his previous 4.
Everything about our lives together became a challenge.
Not wanting to have another failed marriage, broken family.I stayed. I didn't put the pieces together that it was failed staying together.

The pressures of the failed marriages were great.I was silent about so much that was going on being embarrassed that once again I couldn't keep my life together.
I felt I was financially dependant.
I had been available for him to continue his education as I had in my former marriage because that was what wives did for the betterment of the family.
Even though at times I worked three jobs,I didn't see myself as self-sufficient.
We went through a few family crisis',a flood which devastated us emotionally,financially and materially.
I did all I knew to do to put us whole again.
We went through a more than two year legal battle in a class action lawsuit following the flood.
My emotional state was becoming more fragile although I didn't recognize it.

I was working long hours,physically depleted and getting no support at home.In fact,he was more distant than ever and I was sure he was having affairs and if not physical they were for sure emotional.He was flaunting it in my face.
All our friends knew.I shouldered the embarrassment and humiliation alone.
I began involving myself in my own risky behavior to compensate. I was acting out in desperation hoping he'd notice and I'd be important enough for him to discontinue his escapades.
I became isolated among crowds of people.They say no man is an island;I beg to differ.
I was alone in every way.
I wasn't necessarily lonely because of the people in my life but I was alone.
I was grieving for the marriage I had hoped we would have and wasn't going to happen.

We had separated a couple times and then reconciled.
My daughter was getting married and as the Mother of the bride I immersed myself in wedding plans while working full time and a couple part time jobs because I was now living alone.
At one point I fractured several ribs in an accident and couldn't work for almost 2 months.I was financially depleted before I could go back to work.
About 4 months before the wedding he asked for another reconciliation.
I wanted more than anything for an intact family so I agreed.

The strain of shouldering the wedding plans almost by myself were taking a toll unbeknown to me at that time.
The wedding week was upon us.
Out of town guests,showers,rehearsal dinner which I took over because the grooms family wouldn't and then the wedding preparations themselves.
Virtually no help. People had said they would help and didn't show.
The Mother of the bride was racing down the street at 10:10 to get dressed for a 10:30 wedding.
The food distrobution was up to me.The picture taking fell to me to oraganize that day.
The cleanup was falling on my shoulders.
My apartment was a wreck from the week and food preparations for the wedding.
I was to return to work the day after the wedding.
I had about a total of 12 hours sleep for the week. I was beyond exhausted.I was physically numb and my emotional state was frayed.
I was saying goodbye to family members I hadn't seen in years and hadn't been able to spend the time with I would have liked because of undependable so called friends.

The evening of my first day back to work Paul informed he still wanted a divorce.He told me had used me the last 4 months making me think we were reconciling because he didn't want me to have a scene with his mistress at the time. She was one of the ones who had promised to help with the wedding day.She was a so called family friend and former neighbor.
Someone I considered a friend.

I was devastated.Previous to us reconciling I became involved with someone who treated me different than anyone had and it was going somewhere.I told him it had to end when Paul and I decided to reconcile and he moved away.
All I could see in my head when he delivered that devasting statement that he had used me was what I had given up and would never have.
I can't even describe the hurt I felt and didn't want to ever feel again in my life.The betrayal was enormous.
I had nothing left to fight with.I was depleted.

I went into the bathroom and deliberately and methodically took every pill that had been prescribed to me and went out and sat down waiting for whatever was going to happen,happen.
I was quiet,unemotional,distant.I felt I was in a black hole and could never climb my way out of it.I felt I was falling deeper and deeper.
I felt total hopelessness and helplessness.
I just didn't want to hurt anymore.


This will be part 1 of the story.I will finish it in the next post.

Related tags: onevoicewalk, one+voice+walk, domestic+violence, domestic+abuse, domestic+violence+stories

October-Domestic Violence Awareness Walk

Recently,my son Dan participated in "The One Voice Walk" in Cincinnati,Ohio to honor a former church member who was murdered in an act of domestic violence.
The church has organized this event every year since to bring awareness to domestic violence and assist the Cincinnati YWCA to help victims when they leave shelter.

Dan had asked me to contribute to his podcast before this event.At that time I couldn't.I had to get my thoughts together on this subject.

Some of you may know I am a victim of domestic violence and lifelong abuse in one form or another. I have spoken out on this subject often.
This year,when prompted it caused tremendous sadness within me.
I didn't want to relive those experiences.

Since,I reflected on what I should say.I want to offer hope.

My life is as different as night and day since I was in shelter.Entering shelter was the best gift I ever gave myself although I didn't see it that way at the time.
When I entered I couldn't have been lower physically,mentally,spiritually and financially.It was maybe the darkest time in my life.
I was hopeless.I entered because I didn't know what else to do.I guess looking back it was the last of what survival instincts I had left.
I was suicidal.Not that I was going to harm myself necessarily but it was more like if I was diagnosed with cancer I would have refused treatment;if I was going to be struck by a car I wouldn't have jumped out of the way.
I was put on a suicide watch for 45 days.
To say I was despondent would be an understatement.

I can recall my first time on the patio at the shelter after completing my intake and staring out into the distance wondering how I got to that place in my life.My life literally flashed before me like a slide show.
I believed I was somehow a bad person because I was the common thread that ran through these experiences.
My intake worker had commented that no I wasn't.It was a set of circumstances set into motion made early on by others that caused me to make wrong decisions in my life.
That was so foreign to me at that moment.

I was raised in a good home by two parents who were faithfully married until the passing of my Mother.I was raised Catholic and went to Catholic school.Catholics didn't have these kinds of situations.
In my adult life I fell away from the Catholic faith but searched out and discovered my Christianity.If prayer would fix this kind of situation it would have been fixed 100 x's over.

Two marriages had fallen apart and not because I didn't try my hardest to make them work.
I was involved in my community for many years.On the surface I looked like I had the perfect surburban lifestyle.

Then it just fell apart.It didn't happen one day,it took many years.

I entered shelter with only the clothes on my back and my Bible.
I had literally nothing;I was starting over in the truest sense of the word.
I was fortunate enough to have entered the Montgomery County Women's Center in Montgomery County,TX.
It was a God thing.
I've since learned most shelters were not run as well as the MCWC.
All offer refuge and hope,don't get me wrong.
This one has something unique about it.The facility itself,the staff,the community itself are all components to make it unique.
I can't reveal too much for safety and privacy issues but I will be grateful forever for those who impacted my life at that time.

I learned why my life had turned out the way it did.I learned how all the circumstances came together and I made the choices I did.
It was up to me to take proactive action to make the changes need to be made to stop the cycle of abuse.
I learned abuse comes in many forms,not just physical.
I was in denial about much of my circumstances.
I believed domestic violence happened to poor people in disadvantaged circumstances.
Just by being in shelter I was introduced to women and their families from every socio-economic circumstance,every faith or no faith,every walk of life.
I was not alone.
I learned there are men who suffer this kind of abuse as well.

My life is completely different today because of the help I received at that time in my life.
I will never make those same choices again and can recognize now a toxic situation and remove myself from it quickly.

I now live the best life anyone could have with a man who values me for who I am not what I will do.
I am happy each and every day.I find much to smile about everyday and much to be grateful for that I never paid attention to before.
We laugh everyday.Laughter is the foundation of our relationship.
There is mutual respect,love,admiration and trust between us.

My hope for the victims living the life I used to is to have the courage to implement a change in your own life.
Call a shelter for help.A safety plan will be formed to assist you to get out.

If I could survive it you can too.
I had no money,no car,no home and no self-esteem.Not low self-esteem,none.
I was sick,disabled and my nervous system was a wreck.

There is hope;it doesn't get better overnight but it does get better and better than you could imagine it today.
The help won't come to you by wishing it would.You have to take the action.It may the most courageous thing you ever do for yourself. You may think it just doesn't matter anymore.
It always matters.
You may think you are trying to keep the family together for your kids.
You couldn't be doing something more harmful for your kids.
The cycle will continue.
Love your children enough to break the cycle if you can't do it for yourself.
Be your own best friend.If you were your best friend what would you advise your friend to do?

If you are a member in the community who believes domestic violence and abuse doesn't affect your life you are so wrong and ill informed.
We all are affected.
It happens in your neighborhood,every neighborhood.
It affects the work place.It affects the schools.You pay for it through higher medical costs and hospital fees.
You pay for it through law enforcement and the judicial system.

The effect on humanity is uncalculated but it is high.The affect it has on humanity is profound.How may lives are not reaching their potential because of this situation.Society is affected as a whole.It's a blight on all of us while we stand by and do nothing.

If there is nothing else you think you can do you can pray.Pray earnestly for the victims.
Pray for the abusers.Chances are they were abused themselves.Not an excuse but a reason.

Adopt a family through your local domestic violence shelter and assist them to get back out into society and contribute to society.

Make a donation to your local shelter.Call and ask what way you could help the most within your means.

I can only hope my experience can help even one person to make a change in their life.

the importance of donating organs

My brother Walt was admitted to the hospital last week to await a heart transplant.
We've known for a few years this might be necessary but nonetheless the fact that it became a reality has me and our family stunned.
My nephew Ken was told by the nurse that his Dad would NOT be leaving the hospital without a new heart.
Apparently his heart is operating at only 15% capacity and his kidneys and liver are compromised.

It isn't just all the implications of needing the transplant to deal with but also the reality that he,his son and another brother have the same heart disease my Mom succummed to in 1975.
Will others of us face the same reality?Is this coincidence(hardly likely IMO) or a shared genetic trait?

Walt had to leave Cincinnati and was transferred to the Cleveland Clinic in Cleveland, Ohio because that's where his insurance would cover.he had hoped to go to Columbus to Ohio Sate University but the insurance denied that request.
Columbus was easily a day trip from Cincinnati;Cleveland is much further and would almost require an overnight stay for family so he won't have many visitors.

I pray more so for his spiritual health at this point.He readily admitted to my sister Mary he has little faith,if any.He blames God for many things in his life that didn't go the way he wanted.
One of the big ones is that his wife died at a young age.
A real miracle would be that he regained his spirituality even above a new heart.

I don't know what to expect while we await the new heart.I am agonizing over the grief and loss another family will have to endure for him to have the transplant.I just have to remind myself that God has a plan.

Something like this doesn't just affect the patient but ripples down through the family,coworkers,neighbors,family friends and even the medical staff trying to save a life.

I would ask anyone who reads this if you have been sitting on the fence with this issue or maybe have meant to get around to signing a donor card but haven't, do it now.
It takes a minute of your time to fill out the information but can give someone else years of another lifetime.

Ok,Ok......

Ok,Ok,Ok.... geez Louise,already. I have been told by several folks lately I haven't updated my blog.Didn't realize you cared.

What's happened since I last blogged?Hmmm, I'm over 50 so I don't remember as well as I did say,when I was 49.

I went to Texas to be with Mandy to welcome Jacob to our family.Oh my gosh,let me tell you he is so precious;well, all my grandchildren are but he is the only one I was right there to be with my child when he was born.Correction,I was supposed to be right there but some complications arose with my SIL which I may or may not report.
Let's just say I saw a different side of him than what I did in a phone relationship and he leaves a lot to be desired IMO as a husband,Dad and SIL.

Jacob took to me right away.I can still feel his little self snuggled up against me.I called him "my little man" because his little hands were so wrinkled.It just seemed to fit.
James,Jacob's big brother also took to me right away.We became bestest buddies while I was there.I taught him Patty Cakes and that has become our mantra!
Both boys resemble each other,there will be a family resemblance like the Kennedy's and other families that have certain features easily identifiable.(They don't look like the Kennedy's though-they look like the Ramirez boys).

Dan,Jennie and Keisha drove down to Ft. Worth from Cincinnati.It was so good to see them again.Keisha is as tall as me and wears the same size shoe and almost the same clothing size.I teased her to start picking out cool stuff so she could pass them down to me and I would look cool too.She has turned into a real fashion critic!
Here's a biggest hug Keisha-((((HUG))).Nana loves you berry,berry much!!!!

PJ drove up from Houston with his Dad.I got to meet his new love,a bright red Mustang.I don't think the car will ever give him the grief Sarah did.We discovered quite by accident Sarah apparently married someone she met in Iraq.I guess this means she won't be paying PJ all the money she owes him that she promised too.

It was surreal to see Paul and be in his company a few days.I can honestly say I only thin of him in friendship.I think we would have made very good friends but it was a mistake to be married.I'm sure I made him as miserable as he made me.Touche,Paul.
It made me miss and appreciate Bob even more than I had already.

I have the best life I could possibly have here with him.We are very blessed to have found each other and get to live here in Oroville.
It's a compliment to Bob that I hear over and again from those that knew me in "my other life"
that they can hear in my voice I am really at peace and happy.It's even more a compliment that your ex you were married to for 22 years notices it and is genuinelly happy for you.
I wish the same for him.

On my flight home a lady across the aisle and four rows back had a heart attack and apparently died on the plane.Anyone who knows me,knows this would happen when I am around or involved.
I always wondered what it would be like to go to Reno and we aren't that far from it but I wasn't prepared to go there in an emergency landing.Meanwhile,bob was circling around Sacramento airport waitibg for me to come out with my luggage.After we landed and they removed the lady from the plane they told us we could use our cell phones as it would be awhile before we arrived in Sacramento.
Needless to say Bob was perturbed that I was going to be late.He had to keep finding spots he could pull off for short spaces of time and it was about an houror more until I landed in Sacramento.As I reminded him later I bet that lady's son who was with her was even more perturbed for our emergency landing.

Boy oh boy,it was good to be home.Home sweet home.I love my home here and as the saying says,"there's no place like home".

I think I'll close for now and try to make a real concerted effort to keep up with this more frequently.It isn't that nothing is happening it's that I forget.

So here I am again

So much has happened since I last wrote. I will try to remember as much as I can and in no particular order.

First of all,my condolences to those affected by the Virginia Tech massacre this week.Such a tragedy.One lesson I took from this is how short life can be and make the most of everyday.It sounds cliche but nonetheless true.
Don't waste time harboring ill feelings and holding grudges.Forgive and move on.Don't forget to tell those that matter you love them.Tommorow may be too late.

Our family experienced joy and sorrow this week.Last Saturday we learned Jennie was pregnant again.We were so excited and celebrated this miracle.She was told years ago she would have trouble getting pregnant again if ever.So to have a new,little precious life added to our family was exciting to say the least.

Monday was Dan's birthday.I can't believe he is as old as he is.I can remember the day he was born as well as if it were yesterday.
He was such a joy growing up and still is to me today.

Just a couple days after finding out about the pregnancy Jennie started experiencing troubling symptoms.They went to the ER and were told she most likely was miscarrying.
My heart aches for them.I can only imagine what they are feeling.
Prayers are going up continuosly for them.
My mesage board friends have been terrific at offering prayer and support.

Mandy was told she will be induced on the 7th of May.I am arriving late the 6th.I hope James likes me right away because there isn't going to be an adjustment time.
They informed yesterday they signed papers to buy a brand new house.If all goes well they close the Thursday after I arrive, the 10th.
Talk about a whirlwind trip to TX.
Dan,Jennie and Keisha are due to arive the week before Memorial Day.I can't wait to see them.PJ is supposed to drive up from Houston sometime that week.

I have had several doctor appointments since I last posted.
I had another CT scan and the report is the same.The nodule in my right lung is staus quo.It is still small enough it can't be biopsied.I am scheduled every 4 months to have anoher one to watch it.

I've had an MRI for my back and see the neurosurgeon tommorow.I hope he determines something can be done for my back.

I am in conference through Tel-Med with a psychiatrist from UC Davis for my psych meds.
It is an interesting setup.There is a large monitor set up and the doc and I converse as if we were in the same room.My doc comes in at the end and he tells her what scripts to write.

I've had back X-rays and a kidney ultrasound.
The kidney doc delivered unsettling news.Apparently my kidneys are functioning at 60% and I am in Stage 3 to 2 renal failure, the higher the number the better.My proteins and potassium are high and something I have to watch.
He thinks the years of excessive ibuprofen have played a part in my kidneys failing.So much for our great health system in this country and folks' lack of access to health care.My smoking for so long hasn't helped either.
Interestingly enough, he said with my pain complaints in my back and the blood work showing up what did he suspects there could be a tumor in my spine and is referring me to an oncologist.He doesn't think all the pain is from fibromyalgia,deteriorating discs and arthritis although that is enough in itself to cause the pain.

Now,having said all the bad news I need to say I am happier than I have been in my whole life.It appears life has come full circle for me.
Retirement seems to agree with me and Bob.
I love my home and the life we have here in Oroville.
I have a peacefulness in my life that I don't think I've ever had before.So,I am not afraid or worried just a bit concerned.I am as positive about my life as I can be and decide to have a good attitude every day.

I have made a new friend through the volunteer class and it's spooky how much we have in common.
I have had the best fun volunteering at the Visitors Center.I have met people from Japan,China,France and many of the States.I may miss some but as I recall now there have been folks from Washington state,oregon,Nevada,Michigan,Ohio,South Carolina,Wisconsin and all over California.
This job I do there behind the counter is right up my alley.
I dispense information and basically shmooze it up to those who come by.Kind of like a Public Relations job.

I was elected to the board of the Bidwell Bar Association.I'm still not sure what all it means because it was only my second meeting.One of the guys had to step down for health reasons and I was nominated and voted in.
The Bidwell Bar Association is an entity that promotes the historical and authenticity value of life here in Oroville and northern CA from the 1850's and on.
Bidwell Bar was named for John Bidwell who settled most of this area.A bar is a piece of land much like an island out in the water.There was an original bridge named the Bidwell Bar Bridge and the first suspension bridge west of the Mississippi.It was made in the northeast brought around Cape Horn and up to San Ffransisco.It was then brought into Marysville and then by oxen the rest of the way to Oroville.
When the Dam was going under construction the residents and BBA saved the bridge from being lost under the Lake 300 ft below.It now stands about a mile from its original location complete with the original toolhouse.
It will be the center of attention on Bidwell Bar Day may 5th connecting the marina to Wyke Island for the festivities.
The BBA members will dress in period costume and entertainment and education will be available for out guests based on the 1850 lifestyle.


God is good and forever faithful to me.I don't deserve all the blessings He has bestowed on me but accept them humbly.
Until next time,find something to smile about everyday and then give it away to someone else.

Volunteer Class

I graduated this week from the Lake Oroville Visitors Center volunteer class.I am now a volunteer for the California Parks Department and a docent of the Bidwell Bar Association.
I am so glad I signed up for this.I learned so much about the history,geology,tradition,culture and natural resources of this area and northern Califonia in general.I learned how and why the Dam was built and what an amazing feat it was and how the lake and Dam generate electricity and water for the region and entire state.

The early residents of this area were the Maidu and Concow Indians and what a rich culture they have.Then came the white settlers and the travestry the white people caused the Native people.It is little known that there was our own Trail of Tears here in California whereby the government rounded up all the many tribes and had them encamped in one place.Many did not survive the walk to that location.Those that did had to mix culture,traditions and language.
We still have native Maidu and Concow in this area and they try their best to keep the traditions going.

I learned about the abundant wildlife in this area and how the native people never traveled more than a 25 mile radius because this region had all they needed.
Oroville is home to the "Mother Orange Tree" now over 100 yrs old.It is believed to be the tree brought in from Mexico that fueled the citrus industry so recognized and valuable as an agracultural industry as we know it today.This region also boasts the first olive crop in California.Mrs.Ehrmann brought the olive trees right here to Oroville and the Ehrmann's were early and important residents to Oroville.today we have olive orchards right here in Oroville,in fact two are less than 10 minutes from my home.Almonds are also a big crop in this area and in fact most of the almonds you would eat today were grown right here in Butte county.

I learned all the recreational and habitat information about Lake Oroville.
I learned about the Department of Water Resources and California Parks Department.
Many are not aware that the Lake Oroville Dam is the largest in the country,larger than the Hoover Dam and the second largest eathern Dam in the world.

I learned we have more than 50 miles of hking,equaestrian and bike trails throughout Oroville and the Lake along with many ground campsites.The most unusual campsites are floating campsites out on the Lake.

I learned about the gold rush history and the early days of Oroville.In fact, there is a historical association called the Bidwell Bar Association that carries on the traditions and culture of that time.It is so named because John Bidwell was one of the first to settle this area and the location was named Bidwell Bar located on the Feather River that later was excavated to become Lake Oroville.The Bidwell Bar Bridge and Toll House was relacated to a nearby location now called Wyche Island to preserve them and they are an important part of our local history.The BBA has tow events a year known as Bidwell Bar Day in early May and Frontier Christmas in early December.The proceeds from the sales those days goes to sponsor assets at the Visitor Center that the state Parks Department doesn't have the funds to cover.

In the few weeks of classes we were given an excellent overview of all that encompasses the Visitor Center.I can't thank the volunteer docents and the staff that were responsible in making the class a fun,interesting and informative class.

Blog Makeover

Hi there, Dan here. If you had been a reader of this blog for some time, you knew that it was about time for a makeover. Mom recently migrated her blog to the new version of Blogger, and what you now see are the fruits of some of my efforts, with her input, of course. What else will you find here? Be sure to check back to find out.

One thing that I am liking a lot are the Labels, which, if you click, will take you to a page with posts related to that particular label. Of course it's only as rich as we make the previous posts, which takes a bit of time.

A couple other things that I like are the sections for Oroville and San Francisco, underneath which you will find some pictures from the area.

Comments are open so go ahead and leave some feedback!

Updates

It happened again this morning. I told you we are turning into old people.We were outside looking into the backyard. I was looking at the bird feeders.I thought Bob said "no way, it's time to fill the feeders". In fact, what he said was "No way. it's time to read the meters". He saw the PGE meter reader reader at the neighbors house in the back.

Melissa came up for the long holiday weekend.She hadn't been up since Thanksgiving weekend. We enjoyed her visit and as usual it went too fast.
One of the the things we did was to go visit Marty. She hadn't seen Marty since they scattered Bob's Mom's ashes back in the middle 90's. Marty is the family historian so it was good for Mel to hear some of the stories passed down to the next generation.

On Valentine's Day Bob took Marty and I to the Depot, a local restaurant here in Oroville for lunch. Marty is still in a wheelchair from breaking her hip before Christmas. She sure enjoyed getting out for awhile. I enjoy going to the Depot because it is a historical landmark here in Oroville. it is the train station that folks used coming in from Nevada back during and after the gold rush days on their way to San Fransisco.It still has some of the same gardens it had way back then.The building is much like it was back then and the railroad tracks still run along outside the building.There is a bank of windows on the one side and if you are eating when a train passes you can imagine the early times when passengers would disembark; this was the first stop coming out of Nevada.

I had to take a 24 pee test(TMI) and return it to the lab this morning first thing and then have some blood work done. At my doc visit last week previous lab work showed something was up with my kidney function. I don't understand it but I guess as time progresses I'll be made to understand it if it pans out to be something important.
I also had a cervical back Xray done and it showed a severe narrowing of my neck vertebrae and the discs are shot. I am being referred to a neurosurgeon. Don't know what he will be able to do. I have to wait at least 2 weeks to get an appointment. At this point almost anything has to be better than living with this chronic pain. I can't hardly sleep anymore. I get maybe 3-4 hours sleep a night and that's not consecutive.

I am getting excited about making plans to go to Texas in May to see Mandy and have Dan and his family meet up with us.We are hoping PJ will be able to join us.

Not much else is happening from here.I'll report again soon.

Congratulations,Mandy and Alfred!

I can't believe it's this far into the new year and I am first posting again.Of course,I've been real busy doing basically nothing!

I've decided Bob and I are officially turning into old people.This past week at least three times one of us had to say "what did you say"? to the other one when something didn't make any sense.The hearing is starting to go.

I am going to start classes at the nd of the month at the Lake Oroville Visitors Center to be a volunteer.This is through the Califonia Parks and Wildlife Department and the Bidwell Bar Association.
I'm not exactly sure what all my duties will be but I think generally they will be to greet visitors to the center and assist them with touring the area,supplying them with information and material about the history of Lake Oroville and the Lake Oroville Dam(the tallest earthen dam in the US and second tallest in the world),the history and geography of the Oroville,Butte County and northern California area.
here is a link to the Oroville home page:
http://www.oroville-city.com/

We finally received a few days of much needed rain.We went 37 days without.This was one of the driest January's in recent history.

I am in the process of planning a trip back to Texas in May.
Mandy needs me to come to Ft.Worth to help with James when she has Jacob,Since I'm going to be back there we are trying to put together a family reunion.It looks like Dan,Jennie and Keisha are going to get come down from Ohio and we are trying to see if PJ will be able to make it from Houston.We contacted Steph and she won't be able to make to make it.
We haven't all been together since 1999.
I'm really looking forward to seeing my kids.

Today at 3PM Central time Mandy becomes Mrs. Alfred Ramirez. It is low key since it's her second marriage.
She and Alfred have come a long way since they first got together.They've been through some real struggles.
I've seen Alfred really grow under Mandy's love and seen Mandy blossom under his.
I wish them all the best.It isn't about the wedding day;it's about the marriage.
Congratulations,Mandy and Alfred.

scatter brained

Somehow,all the planning and preparation to have an easy holiday season didn't quite work out that way.

Here it is one week before Christmas and I'm running around like a one armed paper hanger(one of my Dad's favorite sayings).

I thought I was finished wrapping only to discover about an hour ago there were 3 hidden I'd forgotten about.
The cleaning lady is due to show up any minute and the house is a wreck.I'm not sure what she will be able to do this time.I have her come in once a month to help with things that are too hard for me to do anymore.
I guess today will be her bonnus day.i will pay her normal fee but she will only have to do half the work.I have been trying to clean before she gets here but my mind is too scattered.
I mailed Christmas cards with no return address;forgot to mail cards I meant to;have addressed cards twice to some of the same people.

Bob's cousin fell last week outside her home and laid in the cold and rain until someone happened to come by.She broke her hip pretty bad.
She was due to go to Arizona Wednesday to spend time with her only remaining son;she didn't want to be here for the holiday as she is missing John who passed away in October.Instead we will be bringing her here with us for the holiday when she leaves the hospital.
The room she will use is covered in wrapping material and the gifts that are to go to friends and neighbors here.

I haven't shaken the cold I've had for 3 weeks.My back is hurting a lot but have to keep pressing on.

I have misplaced my address labels;I know they are here somewhere,but where?I just used them a few days ago.

I am usually so organized;someone else has invaded my body and taken over!

The one thing I am sure of is Christmas will be on the 25th and no matter what happens I am not forgetting that it is about the birth of the Christ Child.

So happy holidays to all.I will update if I can find my way to the computer in a few days!

This is my first holiday season in a small town and I am really enjoying it.
There is something precious and unique that I didn't find in the larger cities I've lived.The others may have had fancier decor and more uptown celebrations yet there was something impersonal too.

A few weeks ago Bob and I attended an annual celebration called "Frontier Christmas".
It was walking back in time.
Many of the residents dress up in period costumes and reenacted what Christmas time and holiday celebrations would have been like in those early days in Oroville.

It was held at the Visitor's Center at Lake Oroville so that was a backdrop in itself.
There were booths set up to show off different aspects of frontier life at that time.
Kids were able to make wreaths from native plantings;they panned for gold.
There was a lady showing off the toys used at that time and she played holiday music on a dulcimer.

The gift shop booth was recreated into holiday decorations from that era.Some of the most creative uses from acorns,pine cones,paper and fabric I've ever seen were on exhibit and for sale.

There was the ticket booth to sell tickets for the stage coach ride into Nevada and an old time preacher marrying folks as they arrived.

At the concession stand was food done up as it might have been then and all the ladies were wearing their long dresses made of calico and wearing their bonnets.
You paid for your food and drinks with wooden nickels you purchased at the bank.

There have been ongoing celebrations in town throughout the season.
There was the reception given at the Lott home by the Historical Society to honor the tradition when James Lott brought his new bride to Oroville and he used a holiday party to introduce her to her new neighbors.

There was the Parade of Lights;an annual celebration that folks decorate their cars,pets,themselves and anything else and parade through the downtown business district.This officially kicks off the holiday celebration downtown.
Everyone is invited to participate or just watch.

There is a parade of homes that are uniquely decorated with lights and other decor that you independently drive around and then judge yourself which is best,submit your selection to the newspaper and the top three win a prize.

All the downtown shops are so festive with their windows dressed in holiday decor.Some are almost recreations from the past.

To end the season this year there is the Centennial Ball at the Municipal Auditorium celebrating Oroville's Centennial as an incorporated city.
It began in the gold miner's days as Ophir City both names reflecting its rich(no pun intended)history as the area where the gold rush of 1849 happened.

I feel blessed to get to experience the small town atmosphere with a big heart at this time in my life.

Divine Presence?

A few days ago we were having a heavy rainstorm.I went into the bathroom and noticed a streak of rain droplets(or so I thought) on the mirror.

I was quite concerned because just the day before we had a roofer here to check things out and he gave us a clean slate(no pun intended).
Last week we had an annual heating inspection and the guy noticed some rust up over the furnace so we felt we better have it checked.
The roofer said it was from an old leak that had been repaired.
See,I am skittish of roof leaks since living in the house in Pittsburg .I won't ever live with open holes in the ceiling and rain leaking in again if I can help it.

So,I see these droplets coming down the mirror and I look the whole ceiling over and nowhere could I find a source.I went over the entire room trying to learn where it could be coming from.
The drops were coming from the top of the mirror down.
Absolutely nowhere was there a source ;not even if water were splashed on the miror.Had it happened that way it would be on the side and not that high up.
I even had Bob look at it to see if he could figure it out.
He had no explanantion either.

I joked that maybe it was going to be one of those apparitions where the Blessed Virgin appears and is crying or Jesus himself.I was of course wondering why Jesus or His Mother would pick my bathroom to have a miraculous apparition but quickly decided if they would pick one of ours,it would be mine because on any given day the one I use is cleaner than the one Bob uses.
We all know cleanliness is next to Godliness and I'd imagine bathrooms fall into that category.
Mary or Jesus would know I would use the Lysol toilet bowl cleaner everyday and use the Clorox wipes on the sinks.
Bob probably would forget.

This would be important if we were to see apparitions because then folks would flock here to Oroville to see Jesus or His Mother or whomever they designated to show up inside my mirror and have spiritual and religious experiences in that room.
I was glad I hadn't gotten around to taking up the wall to wall carpet in that room yet in case people needed to kneel on the floor.

This would mean I'd have to be sure to make my bed everyday as folks would be traipsing through the bedroom to get to the bathrooom.Actually the whole house would have to be spic and span clean everyday if I were to have visitors.

I thought about the people that could be put to work if this happened.I'd need full time help with the cleaning;I'd need someone to clean carpets every week because of the foot traffic;we'd need someone to drive a van to bring people in because they'd have to park up by the clubhouse;our driveway only holds two extra cars at a time.
There would be food to be cooked,at least cookies or a cake everyday to serve the folks while they were here.
It just goes on and on.

All day long those droplets were there on the mirror but, the next morning they were dried up.The spots on the mirror are still there.I'm hesitant to wipe them off in case they were representing a divine presence.
Why me?Why my house and why my bathroom?I don't know but I guess I have to say God can do whatever He wants,wherever He wants,however He wants.
And anyone who knows me well would know if God were to decide to make His presence known in my house it would likely be the bathroom because,well-...that's just the kind of luck I have.

It wouldn't be on a grilled cheese sandwich or a painting on the wall or the side of the house-no,He would pick MY bathroom because He would think that's the best practical joke He could play on me!
I wouldn't have doubted if He didn't get my family members and friends who have passed over to be in on the joke.

So,I don't think it was anything to do with an apparition because no face or likeness appeared but - all was not lost because it made me think and made me write about this and if it causes someone to think about their own spirituality,then all was not lost.

If one day something does appear,I will post it here first,until then...

addicted to online games!

Hello,my name is Margaret and I am an addict...
I have become addicted to playing online games at the Pogo.com website.I registered last year,I don't even remember how I heard about it.Isn't that the way addictions go;someone hooks you up and then before you know it you can't say no.
Actually,I started playing Poppit years ago when my family first became acquainted with a computer.That was back in the days that AOL was just about the only ISP in the game and you waited forever to get online.
When I registered for Pogo,there it was all over again,Poppit!
I don't know what it is about the game I like;the challenge of trying to pop as many ballons as possible and geting the extra tokens.Is it the challenge of knowing you likely will never pop them all?I came close a couple times,got it down to 3-4.Is it the sound of the ballons popping?Maybe it's because it only takes a reasonable amount of skill and no real mental challenge like a word game.Don't get me wrong,I like word games too.

Then I started scoping out some of the other free games and found bowling;I am much more skilled at online bowling than I ever was in real life (herein known as IRL).
I have had almost 200 point games whereas IRL my average would be like 67!

I found a game that may rival Poppit.It's called Lottso.It's a cross between Bingo and Lottery scratch off tickets.Again,just some skill but you don't need to be a brain surgeon.Considering I have about 2 brain cells working nowadays,that is right up my alley.
There is farm animal game I am trying to get the hang of that is quite challenging but it isn't quite a favorite yet although it does have potential.

Now that the winter weather is upon us and I am spending less time outdoors I am finding myself back at playing these games again.
Be warned;this too could happen to you when you are retired.

Hellodeo from Dan