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@marjou

@woogie As I read your post it saddens me to know some of what I experienced as child in your writing. The abusive home environment both physical and verbal, the alcoholic father and out of control mother, similar harsh words of my being born. It is no wonder that I dated and married men with alcoholic tendencies.

I thank you for your honest writing for it helps me put the pieces of my life's puzzle together as I need to make sense of those things that one doesn't understand as a child but affects one's choices as adults. If only I could have connected the pieces earlier in my life, gotten mental help earlier and in turn better choices and support.

You have great courage!

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Replies to "@woogie As I read your post it saddens me to know some of what I experienced..."

Thank you for saying I have great courage. I know why my mother didn't want another child. She was married to an abusive, control freak, she wasn't allowed to leave without getting into trouble so, she just stayed home 99 percent of the time. I was the last child of six.
That is why she didn't want another child. Yes, she told me when I was little, someday you will understand. Yes, I understand. I can understand why she cared more for my sister who was hit by a car at age three. When my father came home in one of his rages, she grabbed my sister and ran into another room. That left me. I was in a high chair when my dad came home, throwing a fit in a rage, and picked up a cast iron skillett off the stove and threw it and hot liver and onions hit me. I barely remember but my mommie Rose at the age of 80 still remembered and told me that is why she left--she was only 19 and I loved her so very much. My song for her was You Are My Sunshine. Yes, I adored her. I thank God I had her in my life. She was there when I was born and I remember I was walking and following her around the house--she was mopping a room. All of a sudden she yelled at me, scared me, I backed up, which is exactly what she didn't want me to do--I fell into the mop bucket. So, my point is, she was still with us when my legs were big enough to hit the bucket with the back of my knees and bend and fall in. Now I laugh because she yelled because she saw it coming. She had big, blue beautiful eyes. Oh, I loved her so. She put ribbons in my straight hair. My sister had long curls which were beautiful. I was so sick with jealousy. It's a horrible thing. We got to be the best of friends and she is the one I called when I needed prayer. I called both sisters. I knew they would pray for me. I hope I am not too graphic.
Anyway, my father started going to church. We loved it. However, it's a crazy life when a child is taken to a place where people get drunk on Saturday night, then up for church on Sunday morning, then church on Sunday and Wednesday night. It makes for a very confused child.