The Day I said "I Do" To a Child Molester!

If you are new to this blog, a good beginning point for you is here.  I'm going to pick up where I left off last week with the story of how I came to be married to a pedophile for almost forty years without knowing it.

For the continuation of this series, I will use the name "John" because that is the name of the man I married.

John and I met at Philadelphia International Airport just three days before our wedding.  He had been living the past semester overseas in Israel with his parents doing overseas studies as part of his senior year at Oklahoma University.  When we saw each other at the airport, a shaky sensation overtook me.  Not the kind that makes you want to jump into the arms of the man you love and are about to marry, but the kind of shaky that sends shivers up your spine and makes you step back and say to yourself, "What am I doing?  I don't know this person.  I have no idea who I am marrying!" 

I had those thoughts a thousand times over, and I even expressed them to John several times during the three days prior to the wedding.  But, he kept comforting me and told me I just had the pre-wedding jitters. "This is normal for every bride to feel this way."  I kept feeling strange around him, but the wedding was planned and the show would go on!  And, so April 18, 1970 arrived...............

There had been a terrible thunder storm the evening before our wedding which worried me so much because we planned on having an outdoor wedding in Villanova, Pennsylvania at the college where we met.  But, when the morning of the 18th came, my fears left.  The sky was beautiful and John called to say that campus was alive with flowers and blooming trees and blue skies!  A perfect day for a wedding!

John and his groomsmen set up all of the chairs and all I had to do was to get dressed in the dorm room upstairs and be ready to walk down the aisle with my father as the college chorus began singing some of our favorite hymns.  *Note:  I'm leaving out tons of details which will be included in a book, should I decide to write one.  For now, I'm just giving you the details that pertain to the behavior of a pedophile.

I honestly don't remember much at all about the wedding ceremony.  I was very preoccupied with thoughts of doubt.  God, how much I didn't want to get married on that day!!!  Nothing -- absolutely nothing -- felt right.  I've asked myself a million times over why I was such a coward.  Why did I go against my will?  Nobody was holding a gun to my head.  I made the choice to get married.  I did make the choice -- but in many ways I didn't.  The choice had already been made for me by almost two years of priming me, grooming me, manipulating me, doing my thinking for me, and creating an atmosphere where I felt totally dependent on this man named John. 

And, so on April 18, 1970, I said the words that sealed our relationship forever.  I said, "I do" before both man and God. 

We had a very low-key reception -- cake, punch,  and light finger foods  on campus.  There was no big fanfare.  No dancing.  No music. No toast to the bride and groom.  Nothing that would make this seem like a celebration.  John had promised to plan this part of the wedding if I took care of all of the other details such as the flowers, the photographer, lining up the preacher, the rehearsal, the invitations, the tuxedo rental, the bridesmaid's dresses, the food........and a thousand other things that had to be done long distance from Oklahoma where I was living while he was in Israel.

I kept asking him how we were getting back to Oklahoma.  Did he have plane tickets for us?  Where were we going for our honeymoon?  I must admit I was excited about this part!  I had "saved myself" for my wedding day, and I had packed some beautiful lingerie and pretty outfits for a week-long honeymoon.

  John kept telling me to stop asking questions and just relax because I was in for a big surprise! 

 By 5:00 in the afternoon, I was beginning to get a bit anxious about the honeymoon part.  I thought, "This must be big!  I'll bet we're flying into Florida and staying on the beach.  He knows I love the beach more than anything in the world!"  My father had given us some money for a nice honeymoon. John grabbed hold of that money right away!  His parents also gave some money towards our honeymoon due to the fact that they remained in Israel and did not fly home for the wedding. 

This is what took place. Pay close attention because this has a lot to do with the way a pedophile works.  He took my hand and walked me to the side of the room and said, "I have something to tell you.  I forgot to take care of the honeymoon.  I don't even know how we're getting back to Oklahoma, but I came up with a plan a few minutes ago.  My sister is here and my parents gave her the family car to use while they're in Israel.  I'm going to talk her into letting us take the car."

I will repeat what I just said.  John told me he forgot to make plans for the honeymoon.

How in God's name does a man who loves a woman who is about to become his wife "forget" to plan the honeymoon?  HOW?  HOW?  HOW does this happen? 

This happens if you are selfish.  It happens if you are a controlling person.  It happens if you are a liar.  It happens if you are a master manipulator.  It happens if you are a pedophile and have other things on your mind!

I was being put to the test again!  How would I react?  What would I do?  Cry?  Get mad?  Throw a fit?  Not on your life.  I quietly said, "Okay" just like he knew I would.

That man went to his sister and within less than one hour he had the keys to the car handed over to him!!!!!  His sister had to find a ride home from the wedding AND she had to figure out what to tell her parents about the family car!

At this point, I was feeling rather sick in my stomach.  I pretty much knew there would be no fancy honeymoon surprises.  Instead, we went to the home of his best man's family, ate Campbell's soup for our supper while John and the best man spent another hour outside whispering. 

One again I was told a big surprise was in store for me!  The car was packed with our wedding gifts, and we headed out for "the surpise" around 8:30 in the evening.  My head was pounding and I just wanted to get to a hotel to get a hot shower and call it a day.

Nope!  We had a three hour drive ahead of us!  Three hours in the pouring down rain along winding, country roads.  He kept telling me to stop crying.  It was going to be a wonderful surprise.  I wanted to believe him -- I really did, but my heart told me otherwise.

Finally, at 11:30 that night, we pulled onto a muddy, wooded road and I was told to close my eyes.  The surprise was waiting!



John had once again worked his manipulative magic!  He talked his best friend's parents into giving us the use of their hunting cabin for the next three days as our "honeymoon suite."  While we were eating soup and talking small talk, his friend drove all the way to that horrid cabin to bring sheets for the bed, and to put a few groceries in the cupboards.  There was no heat.  No dry firewood.  The temperature dropped down into the low 30's that night.  It was pouring rain and sleeting.  And, I was afraid.  I really and truly didn't know this person I had just married.  Somehow I wanted to believe so much that he really did have a secret surprise all prepared for me, but this was it.  A far cry from a warm, lovely hotel room with a hot shower, running water, and a swimming pool. 

And, so the honeymoon began.

There was no need for fancy lingerie.  There was no intimate, candlelight meal.  There was no warm shower. Nothing that I had dreamed about was even remotely in this plan.  Instead, we were in a hunting cabin in the middle of some woods without heat, without hot water, and with no TV, and very little food.  For the next three days this was "my honeymoon surprise."  I was sick.  I wanted out of this marriage already!  We were not off to a great start! 

Do you see the red flags?  Do you see the control and abuse?  Do you see what was happening?  Do you see how many people this man used on our wedding day?  Do you see his fast talking and manipulation?  Do you see how easily he got people to do what he wanted? And, this was only the beginning!

There was no asking me what I wanted to do for the remainder of our week together before I had to get back to work.  Instead, he said, "I want to go to Lipscomb University.  We can stay in the dorms there.  An 'old flame' of mine is there and I want to see her."  Really?  You want to sleep in separate dorms on our honeymoon on a college campus so you can visit with a girl you had a crush on in church camp?  I tried -- I really tried -- to get him to change plans but he got his way.  Off to Nashville we went.

Then on to Dallas!  Yep!  We were visiting another one of his sisters who lived in Dallas.  We went to church with her and had chili for lunch.  Isn't it odd how you can remember certain things?  We ended up getting a flat tire on the freeway in Dallas in the blistering heat and crazy traffic! 

This really was the honeymoon from hell!  I didn't need anything extravagant, but this was ridiculous! 

Not once did we eat in a nice restaurant.  Not once did we have a wonderful, carefree afternoon together.  Instead, we were on the road driving well over a thousand miles to get from point A to point B and finally to our $95 a month basement apartment in Oklahoma. 

As we pulled into the carport of this one-room basement apartment, my heart felt heavy.  It had been a rough week.  I don't remember laughing one time.  I remember taking Tylenol for headaches.  I remember long hours of silence driving in that old station wagon.  I remember asking if we could please stop to get just one nice meal and being told, "No.  We don't have time."  I remember crying.  I remember feeling alone and so lost. 

But, the truth is that I had said, "I do ..... 'til death do us part."  Maybe things would get better.  Maybe this was just hard for him coming off of being out of the country for four months.  Maybe he had a surprise waiting for me at the apartment!!!!  I remained hopeful, but the next week proved to open my eyes even more as to the heart of this man I had married.

Now, I can imagine some of you are thinking how stupid I was.  You're no doubt thinking that I should have raised cain and should have thrown a fit about this week together.  We had the money to have steak dinners for breakfast, lunch, and supper! 

Remember when he said he had studied me?  He knew me better than I knew me!  I don't like to argue.  I don't like fighting or controversy at all.  I would much rather "give in" than to pick a fight.  He knew this.  And, so we visited his ex-girlfriend on our honeymoon.  I stayed in the dorm and cried while he walked all around campus with her.  I cried into my pillow when he ignored me at the end of the day saying "I'm too tired.  I've been driving all day."  I didn't understand at all what was happening, but I went along with it.  Why?  Because it was so ingrained in me that Christian wives are to be submissive.  They don't talk back.  They don't question.  They are there for their husbands no matter what.

And, I was determined to be a wonderful Christian wife!  I had waited a long time for this!  Maybe I didn't understand, but somehow I would make it work.

Listen to me, and listen to me good.  If you are in a relationship like this -- GET OUT!!!  I'm not an advocate of divorce, but I certainly do advocate separation and counseling in order to try to repair the marriage!  If your gut is telling you something is wrong, then most likely it is!  Learn to listen to the voice of God whispering to you, calling you, trying to help you!  For the sake of your sanity, learn to speak up and don't allow anybody to manipulate and use you!!!  Ever!

Pedophiles are liars -- masterful liars.  They "groom" adults as well as children.  I was being groomed for what was to come --and a lot would happen the very next week in my life.  Stay tuned.....things took a sudden, unexpected turn and I was perfectly groomed to accept it.

If you have questions or comments, please send them my way.  Post your question, and I'll answer to the very best of my ability.  I feel compelled to tell my story in order to save others from the trickery and manipulation of sex offenders such as John.  Through education and awareness we can make it very, very difficult for this grooming process which is the first step leading to child sexual molestation.  Please stick with me and get educated!  Share your experiences, too, so that we might learn and grow stronger together!  For the sake of the children, let's make it incredibly difficult for a pedophile to get away with his actions! 

A predator will choose the parent as much as they choose the child!!!  Remember that ALWAYS!!!

Love,
Clara

Chosen to be a Child Molester's Enabler: The Beginning of My Story

Part of my mission, my purpose in life, is to educate others about child predators.  I'm not here to stir up some kind of crazy hype, but to present the facts and to give you a bit of insight as to what happened in my own life.  How was I so blinded to the fact that for forty years I was living with a practicing pedophile?  How did I not see the signs?  How did I not pick up on something being very wrong with the man I married?  
The truth is that I sensed something was wrong even before we got married, but I didn't listen to my inner being.  I didn't pay attention to those nudgings that something was wrong.  Why?  Because as a Christian it had been taught to me from little up that people who went to church were good, honest, moral people.  I was taught to trust people who said they believed in God and followed His teachings.  And, I did just that.  I was, unfortunately, one of the most trusting women who ever walked the face of the earth!

Pay attention to this, please!  Just because a person tells you that they walk by the teachings of God does not mean it's true.  In fact, the word of God warns us against "wolves in sheep's clothing", and I learned first-hand just what that meant.  But, it would be years before my eyes were totally opened to this fact. 

As a bit of background information, I came from a broken home.  My parents divorced when I was fourteen, a sister of mine died when she was thirteen, my mother was an alcoholic, and my father was by today's terms a "dead beat dad."  Needless to say, I longed for a different life, and I prayed constantly that God would send a good, righteous, faithful Christian into my life so that I could build a home on godly principles and a firm foundation. 



I worked hard all through high school so that I could go to college.  But, I didn't want to go to just any college.  It had to be a Christian college because I sincerely believed that was the only place I would ever meet a Christian man to marry.  Because I worked so hard all through high school, I earned a four-year scholarship to a four-year state school.  BUT, you guessed it!  The idea of finding and marrying a Christian man was so ingrained in my heart and mind by now that I passed up the scholarship and instead went to a very small, two-year Christian College.  Little did I know that this one decision would lead to so much heartache for me and for those who are most special in my life -- my children.  While it's true that we can't see around every bend in the road, there are signs and signals along the way.  I didn't pay attention to anyone who tried to talk to me.  One thing was on my mind -- finding a Christian mate!

Every person wants to feel special, and longs to be told that they stand out among all of the rest.  During the summer between my first and second year of college I met a young man who was articulate, bright, funny, witty, and who also told me that I stood out.  He was spending the summer at college and so was I.  A friendship developed, and even though I was engaged to marry someone else, this young man worked very hard every day to convince me that I was with the wrong person.  He pointed out all of the flaws of the man whose ring I was wearing until he finally convinced me to break off the engagement.  That's a story in and of itself -- maybe I'll share that with you another day. 

What was a bit strange to me was that the man I would soon marry had a quiet control over me like nobody ever had before.  Even though I had low self-esteem I was used to making my own decisions and being very independent.  For the first time in my life I found I was reporting my every move to this quiet, shy young man. He told me I was special.  He said out of all the girls on campus I was the only one that he thought was pretty and was a true Christian.  He told me just what I wanted to hear.  It was the word "Christian" that nailed me!  I knew he was the one I had been praying about since my youth!

One of the greatest stories my now ex-husband loved to tell was how he spotted me from across campus and said to his roommate, "See that girl?  I'm going to marry her."  This was totally absurd because at the time he said that we had not even met!  He later told me he would hide and watch me -- study me -- and he knew my schedule, when I was going to eat, when I'd walk back to campus, when I would go to work.  He said, "I knew everything about you.  I knew where you were from morning until night. I knew I would marry you." 

Instead of being freaked out and thinking this guy was some kind of stalker psycho, I was flattered.  "He chose me."  Out of all of the girls around, he chose me and that again was more evidence of answered prayers.  Deep inside, though, was a gnawing feeling that something wasn't right.  He didn't talk much.  And, for a man who said he loved God, he made fun of people in a mean way.  He mocked people's insecurities.  Yes, you guessed it!  He mocked me on several occasions and I felt like a piece of dirt he had stepped on.  He made fun of the size of my nose.  He made fun of my feet calling them "hammer head toes."  He made fun of the space I have between my teeth.  I cried myself to sleep many, many nights, but still........he was a Christian man, and he was so nice when we were together in public.  He opened the car door for me (it was my car, by the way).  He paid the bill when we went out to eat and left a nice tip.  (It was my money that he used.)  He talked me into giving him my car (which I had since I was 16) and I found myself asking him for permission to use my own car.  This was really weird! 

Why did I put up with it?  Why does anybody put up with abuse?  Because they've been so used to being beaten down that they think this is the norm. Please, please -- if you're in a situation like this run for your life!!!  This is NOT the way a good relationship works!  And, it's a red flag indicator of many other problems -- in my case, it was a big red flag that I was being masterfully manipulated.  Groomed to be the wife of a pedophile who was already deeply involved in porn and child sexual molestation!  

 Learn to listen for "clues" that a decision you're making might not be right.  I had BIG clues that I passed off as "odd", "not making much sense", "silly", or "not that big of a deal."

Clue 1:  For the last four months we dated, my fiance was in Israel doing overseas study.  We corresponded by letter only.  We were to get married less than one week after he arrived back in the states.  In his letters he would write to tell me how he would hide behind the grasses on the beach and watch girls changing out of their clothes and swimming nude.  He said he'd skip class and stay there all day.  In other words, he was openly telling me he was a "peeping Tom."  This was a test of how far he could manipulate me and I passed with flying colors! I never questioned him about it.  Oh, I cried lots, but I never questioned him!

Clue 2:  He told me while we were dating that he and one of his cousins spent the summers together and they would steal cartons of cigarettes from stores and sneak out of the house at night and smoke the cigarettes and look at "porn" all night long.  Another test!  I looked at him quietly but never questioned him.  If you want to know the truth -- I didn't even know what porn was!!!!!  I had to ask my college roommates.  Again, I was being tested.  Could he get away with doing things right under my nose?  Sure he could. I'd never question a man of God!

Clue 3:  He was almost 21 and his favorite job was to "babysit all the little kids at church for free because he loved to give them baths and powder their little butts."  I'm totally sick now as I write these words.  Why in heaven's name didn't I run from this man? There were so many clues that something was wrong, and I passed them off as being a little odd.  Nothing more -- just a little bit odd. In fact, I actually thought this was kind of nice.  I never saw my father get involved in parenting like that, and I thought, "Wow!  This man will make a wonderful father!"    

Porn.  Lying.  Peeping Tom.  A young man who loves bathing and powdering little kids.  Masterfully manipulating.  Gaining the trust of adults. (Church people loved him babysitting their kids!)

I was another one of his victims.  I was being set up. I was being groomed  I would be the perfect alibi for his continued evil behavior.  He was calculating.  He studied me.  He used me.  He used my faith as a means to get what he wanted.  He knew what he was doing! His actions were no mistake.  He worked very hard to plan every detail.   

Listen up everyone!  Please don't do as I did!  If your gut is telling you something is wrong, it probably is!!! Pay attention to the little details and the little voice that is whispering something is wrong!!! 

This is just the beginning of my story.  I will share more in the weeks to come in hopes that others will not be blinded to the facts as I was.   We must get educated about child sexual molesters so that we can protect life's most precious blessings -- our children!

Why am I sharing the ugly, sad parts of my life?  That's simple.  Because children are beautiful.  Children are precious.  Children deserve to be protected.  Statistics (according to information found here ) tell us that 1 in every 3 girls and 1 in every 6 boys are molested by the age of 18.  Please help me to stop this!  Let's get educated!  Let's do all we can to make it incredibly difficult for the molester!  Let's be vigilant on behalf of our children -- at all times!!! 

Every child should have the ability to grow up feeling safe and loved and whole and pure! 

It isn't easy or comfortable for me to write about this, but I must.  I must take this terribleness and do something positive with it.  I must work for the safety of our children. 

Thanks so much for stopping by and for taking the time to read this.  Thanks even more for making yourself more aware of what is going on right under our noses -- in our schools, our churches, our camps, our homes.  Let's do all we can to work together to make this a safe place for our children!  

Love,
Clara

 

So, How Does a Mom of Seventeen Really See Mother's Day?

The cat is out of the bag.  For those of you who don't know -- yes, it's true. To set the record straight, I have been pregnant seventeen times, and I had the most awesome experience of giving birth to eleven living children!  Six of my children left my womb much too early to survive outside of me, and one more baby could have survived outside of me, but his little heart stopped beating too soon.  He was born still.  I've had both ends of the spectrum as a mom -- giving birth to wailing, flailing babies, and having to say good-bye before having the opportunity to see and hear all of the wonders of delivering a live baby.

So, what does Mother's Day mean to this mom of so many?  How do I feel -- really?  Was it all worth it?  Would I do it all over again?  Well, here it is straight from the heart.

Motherhood is the hardest thing on face of this earth!  Your body is stretched every which way, you gain 40 or 50 pounds and stay sick day and night for four months or more, you go through bouts of indigestion, throwing up, leg pains, cramping, and being kicked constantly from the inside out -- and that's all before the baby is born!  

Then, you go through hormonal rages and changes and waves of ups and downs that send your emotions off the charts.  Not to mention the brutal pulling apart of your body to get that little stinker that took 9 months to grow OUTSIDE of your body so that you can begin to take off the 40 or 50 pounds you put on and reverse this whole process again to get back to "normal" -- which by the way there is never "normal" following the birth of a child.  Normal flies out the window the minute you are pregnant!  Never is a woman the same!  

Here are two of my daughters touting their full size bellies in all of their glory!  Blame it on the genes -- we like this thing called motherhood! 

For the first year following the birth of each of my children I was in a trance-like state simply studying their little faces.  Watching their every movement.  Feeling their heart beat with mine.  Worrying through fevers and colds and unknown viruses.  Sleepless nights with babies that got their days and nights mixed up.  Changing thousands of diapers.  And, breast feeding.  Yes, this old body of mine was determined to breast feed every single one of the eleven, and that I did!  Baby and I were attached in more ways than one!



As my kids grew older, I grew older, too.  I thought about more things than just feeding and diapering.  Were my kids happy?  Was I giving them enough attention?  Were they developing as they should?  Did I read them enough books?  (Let's just say, they had enough books to fill a college-sized library!)  Was there enough of "me" to go around for them?  Kids don't get it -- they don't get this part of motherhood until they are parents themselves.  And, you learn early on this is a pretty thankless job until much, much later in life.  Okay, I promised to be truthful, right?   

All days with kids are not easy days, nor are they all fun!  When the crying hits a pitch so high your ears are going to break and you've cleaned up so much throw up that you begin to throw up, and you know you still have 20 hours left before a new day, often my only option was to sit down on the floor and cry right with them.  And, cry we did!  My kids and I have shared many wailing moments together.  Hmmm...I wonder what they thought when they learned I could cry just as loud and just as long as them? 

But, then you get back up and brush yourself off, look at those smiles, get smothered in those slobbery kisses and it's all worth while.  For a while -- it's all worthwhile. 

Before you know it, they're very mobile and into everything.  And, this was the beginning of the most difficult stage of motherhood for me.  My kids were inquisitive.  I guess that's a nice way of putting it.  There were broken bones, stitches to the eyes, head, chin, knees, legs and various other places.  Scrapes, falls, knots on heads, bloody noses and.....well, there was a lot!  I have very little remembrance of a lot of these "moments in motherhood" because it's just too terrifying to remember.  They outnumbered me, and to stay I couldn't keep up with them is an understatement.  It was during this stage of motherhood that I began to ask the question, "What in the world have you gotten yourself into, girl?  This stuff is real!  And, there seems to be no end in sight!"

The old adage is true, "They grow up way too fast."  After about the hundredth prom, school dance, basketball game, baseball came, dance recital, band concert, chorus concert and who remembers what else, there comes this pause in life when you know that something is shifting in your role as a mother.  As you watch your children pack up their belongings and head off to college, to their jobs, to get married, to live on their own, your heart stops beating the same way. 

My heat stopped beating the same way when my first child spread her wings and began her own life, and my heart almost stopped beating completely when the last of my children walked out the door with her final bit of clothes, and said, "Bye, mom.  I'll be in touch."

Sure, you go through days, months, and even years of all kinds of things with your kids.  Some good, some not-so-good, but you're never prepared for those words, "Bye, mom.  I'll give you a call sometime in the next few weeks." 

NEVER is a mother prepared -- at least this mother was not prepared. 

My kids are all out of the house now, and I have the quiet I longed for so much back in the days when I heard nothing by crying, fighting, screaming kids.  The door very rarely opens except when I open it to come home after a long day of work.  No more is the kitchen door swinging back and forth with friends coming and going yelling, "Hi, mom!", and me looking twice to see if that was my kid or a friend of my kids who decided to stay for a week. 

The quiet is nice, but sometimes I find it's strangely quiet.  I listen for sounds and smile as I remember how I'd lay awake at night (pretending to be asleep) waiting to hear the last footsteps of the kids as they finally settled down to sleep.  That was when I could breathe a bit easier and say, "Thank you, God.  They're all tucked in for another night." 

What will I do this Mother's Day?  Oh, I don't know.  Probably eat with some of the kids.  They live all over the place and most of them have families of their own, so now I'm more "gram" than I am "mom", but that's okay.  I'm growing into my new role, but it's going to take some time.  I'll look at pictures a lot and think, "Wow!  That was crazy having so many kids! It was like a nut house at times.  It was like cooking for an army! The washing machine was always going!" I'm sure I'll do a lot of reminiscing on Mother's Day -- and it will be good!  It will be happy! 

It's funny how the bad days fade into a far away distant thought, but I can tell you so many GREAT moments spent with the kids.  I remember special moments spent with each of the eleven, and that's what I'll focus on this Mother's Day.

Would I go through all of this craziness again?  Would I put myself on hold for all of those years?  In my case, having so many kids, I really did have to put my needs far away on the back burner.  It took a lot of work and planning and sacrifices to make sure there was food on the table and clothes to wear! Some day I'll talk about planning the meals for each day.  I got to be very innovative learning how to make food stretch.  It's part of a mother's many talents!

So, how do I view Mother's Day?  I think it's totally wonderful that there has been a day set aside to honor mothers for all that they have done, and all that they continue to do every day of their lives.  A mother isn't just a mother until her kids turn eighteen.  A mother is a mother all the days of her life!  And, I love it when my kids acknowledge me with respect and honor on Mother's Day!  It makes me feel like the most special person on face of this earth! 

Would I do it all over again -- have so many kids?  Are you kidding me?  In a heart beat!  I can't imagine my life without them!!!  A mother gives so much, but she really and truly does get back more!  At the end of a day, I can sit and smile and say, "It is well.  It really is well with my soul."

PS  This little piece of computer art work was given to me one Mother's Day by Alex, my youngest.  We had been going through a rough time at home, and I had to take on a full-time job in order to keep the mortgage going.  Needless to say, there was a big change in home life from that day forward.  Alex sent this little message to me, and it served as my screen saver for YEARS!  This flower and sunshine speaks volumes to me -- that's the essence of motherhood.  Flowers and sunshine -- gifts from above.

Kids, I love you each and every one -- Michelle, Mike, Joe, Tim, Chris, Jimmy, Cherie, Mandy, Marc, Steph, and Alex!  You have blessed my life in millions of different ways, and I thank my God every single day for giving me the honor and privilege of being called your mother!

Love,

Mom 

The Day I Drove My Car Straight Into A Rainbow!

Did you ever have a "miracle moment" -- the kind of happening that gives you a knock on the head, a slam against the wall, or a punch to the gut that let's you know this is for you?  Twenty five years ago, a few days past Mother's Day was my run-in with a rainbow!

I won't go into a lot of the gory details, but on Mother's Day twenty five years ago I was pregnant.  Only this was "not a regular kind of pregnant" because the baby that was inside of me wasn't alive.  I found out ten days before that he had died and it was the doctor's strong suggestion (okay, the doctor would have it no other way) that I wait to go into regular labor to deliver this stillborn baby boy.

Not a fun Mother's Day! 

For weeks following the birth/death of baby Samuel (who wasn't named until many years later -- another story for another time) the only thing I did was cry.  I only had about thirty minutes together with Samuel in my arms.  He was a beautiful little boy, and looked much like my son Tim.  He had blonde peach fuzz for hair, and his eyelashes were strawberry colored.  His fingers and toes were all there and so perfectly formed.  He was such a handsome little fella, but I never got to tell him that -- not while he was alive.  And, so my heart broke -- over and over and over again it broke. My heart didn't just break.  It shattered. 

And then about three months later came the most bizarre day I've ever experienced when I ran the car off the old country road while crying my eyes out.  There had been a terrible rain storm and I was sobbing as hard as the rain when suddenly, almost as though there was a switch that turned off the downpour, I found myself in a field smack dab up against a rainbow!

I have only seen a few rainbows in my entire life, and this one was not a regular rainbow.  I can tell you that this was a talking rainbow.  This rainbow spoke volumes to me that day! 

Let me assure you I'm not crazy, nor do I make it a habit to run into rainbows with the car or have conversations with rainbows, but I'm telling you this was one of those moments -- one of those times when you know you're getting bonked over the head for a reason. 

I believe God sent me this rainbow to tell me that there was hope beyond Samuel's death.

Not long after my run-in with the rainbow, my heart began to feel different.  I saw life in a much clearer way than I had before.  So many things that I had overlooked in the past seemed to stand out and shout, "I'm beautiful.  Look at me! This day is for you!  Learn to enjoy it!"  I honestly think that smashing into that rainbow changed my eyesight.  I definitely know it changed my "heart sight."  We do see with our hearts, you know!

And, that's when the idea of beginning a healing garden was born.  Why not plant flowers and trees and living plants that would return year after year as a reminder of the miracle and beauty of life?  And, so I began to do just that -- plant something each year as a reminder of the miraculous blessing of life!

This giant snowball bush began as a teensy-tiny twig that I ordered through the mail from Michigan Bulb. This is the twenty-fifth year anniversary of that little twig, and the flowers from this bush have been used for wedding bouquets, baby bouquets, anniversary bouquets, and for decorating all throughout the rooms in my home.  Such a hopeful reminder of how life can go on even when we've experienced the devastation of the death of a child.  Look how many lives have been blessed because of this little twig planted in memory of Samuel! 

In the fall, the flowers on this bush turn a lovely pink!  A little trick is to feed your snowball bush with some Epsom Salts a couple times a season.  Samuel, look what you continue to give back to so many!!!!

Planted among my healing gardens are hundreds of irises of all varieties and colors!  On this particular morning, this iris seemed to be crying a tear of both joy and sadness with me as I remembered my little boy, along with the others who are missing from my family.  Sadness doesn't always mean despondency.  I continue to marvel at the details of the bearded iris.  Nature sure is full of beautiful miracles, isn't it? 

And, so as this Mother's Day approaches, I will again be planting flowers in memory of Samuel, and in honor of life.  Just today I bought some red dianthus plants and two climbing clematis plants.

A few years ago, some of my family gathered at my son Tim's home to celebrate a happy occasion.  With me was my grandson Jon who was born just three months following the death of my Samuel.  When I look at Jon I always think of my Samuel -- in a wonderful kind of way!  Sure, I wonder if those two would have played basketball together in school.  Would they have gone to the prom together?  Would they have gone on road trips together?  I'm sure they would have been great together, but it didn't turn out that way.

We are left with choices in life.  Sometimes, life is hard.  Many times things come into our lives that are beyond our control and we wish those things had never happened.  But, we can't change those things.  What we can change is how we view the heartache that comes into our lives. 

Look for your rainbow.  Pray for your rainbow to appear out of nowhere!  Ask God to direct your path right into a rainbow so that you get that bonk over the head that lets you know that there is hope!  Life does go on, and there are beautiful, wonderful blessings that surround us each day!

Jon is standing front and center in this picture and he will always have a front and center place in my heart!  Samuel, I have a feeling you're smiling right now.  I know your mama sure is!

Twenty five years later -- missed, loved, and still a part of my heart and life!  Bloom, flowers, bloom!  Samuel has a lot of hopeful giving to do yet!

Love,
Mom 
PS  If you've been shattered by child loss and need some extra encouragement, please visit here and here.  And, be sure to get a copy of the book, Silent Grief. And, keep praying for that rainbow!   

Two Italian Sisters and One Italian Son Equals FUN!

I've been pouring through pictures on my computer for the past few weeks, and for some reason the album "Lucca Restaurant" just popped out at me today and I've looked at the pictures in this album probably a hundred times.  Go figure!  Maybe I'm hungry for some authentic Italian food.  Maybe I'm ready for another Pittsburgh adventure.  Maybe I was in the mood for recalling some of my most fond memories.  Or maybe it's because I was thinking about family, kids, and all of the life changes that have taken place over the past two years.   

Let's just say I'm so glad for pictures!  They really do make imprints on the heart and mind.  I forgot how excited my sister Ruthie and I were to get all primped up to go to Lucca's Restaurant in the Burgh!  WOW!  That was a fun night!!! 

Our last name is "Lucca", and we had some crazy notion that we were going to meet up with relatives of ours from Italy! We had talked about visiting this restaurant for two years, until finally Chris said,
"Okay, ladies.  Put on your Sunday best.  I'm taking you out for a night on the town!"

Let's just say that Aunt Ruthie was a bit excited to be sitting in "Lucca's Restaurant" with the special words from Chris, "Order whatever you want.  This is your night!  Pretend you're in Italy.  The treat is on me!"  (This is only one of many of Aunt Ruthie's famous "kisses" that Chris got that evening.  Poor guy!  (Italian women tend to get quite emotional and they are not afraid to express their emotions in public!)

This happened to be a five course meal, and along with each course came another bottle of wine.  I'm laughing as I'm recalling how this all played out........Chris ended up calling a friend to drive us around for several hours following the meal.  We might be crazy, but we're not stupid!!!!

This night was so special for a thousand different reasons.  For Pete's sake -- this was "LUCCA" Restaurant!  Our name.  A bit of our history.  A bit of nostalgia.  A bit of pride.  A bit of everything Italian you could think of was part of this magical night!  And, we are sisters who are about as polar opposite as you can get, but for this night -- by golly we were on the same page.  We were enjoying every minute of being at Lucca's together.  Thank you, Chris for making it all happen because heaven knows the two of us would never have maneuvered our way around the streets of Pittsburgh on our own! 

The meal was a smashing hit.  The food was off-the-charts delicious.  We drove the waiter to the point of him needing to take a "break from our table."  Actually, he said he got hit with a terrible headache and had to go rest.  (Aunt Ruthie thought he was cute and plastered some of her famous kisses on him, too!) 

And, we ran up to the poster of "Lucca, Italy" time and time again to pose for pictures, each time with a different story about how we'd one day go to Italy to track down our relatives.  We laughed.  We laughed some more.  And, we daydreamed.  And, the break from real life was wonderful!  Gosh, it's good to just get away from the everyday routine of work, work, and more work and do some super big fantasizing about life!!!

I've often wondered if Chris had any fun at all that night.  He was in a lovely restaurant with his old mom and his crazy aunt.  He took a night out of his hectic life to spend with two sisters who did nothing but yak, yak, yak the entire time.  He heard stories that he's already heard at least fifty times before.  He put out a huge hunk of change on that meal.  And, he had the honors of being lavished in "Aunt Ruthie's kisses" for about three solid hours!  (Chris deserves a gold medal, doesn't he?) 

Following the super high of the  Lucca's Restaurant escapade, we took in the sights and sounds of Pittsburgh!  All I can say is, "Oh, what a night!"  B E A U T I F U L!!!

What a drop-dead gorgeous city all lit up in the evening!  Every time I look at this picture, it takes my breath away!  The bridges, the tall buildings, the high hills illuminated and glowing from every direction.  I'll say it again, "Oh, what a night!"

Chris calls himself a Dimwit , but I think he has it all wrong.  He's a LUCCA!  And, he's one heck of a special Italian son!  Thank you, Chris, for the memories!!!!  Aunt Ruthie and I still talk about this night and we probably always will.  We'll still be talking about this night when each of us are sitting in the nursing home saying, "Do you remember the night we spent at Lucca's with Chris?"

A lesson to all kids:  Parents grow older and when they do, there's one thing they crave more than any "thing" in the entire world.  That thing is called "spending time with you."  If you're hard up for an idea for Mother's Day or a birthday or any day......just give your parent some of your time!  There is no greater gift than giving of yourself!!! 

From the mouth of an an Italian mama, "Grazie, Christopher!  You are the furthest thing from a Dimwit I've ever known!"

Love,
Mother
PS  I did get to go to Italy with Chris, and it was the "adventure" of a lifetime!  Let's just say I've never been the same since!  I guarantee that it truly was seeing Italy from a totally different perspective than in the tour books! 

Thank You, Deb, for Remembering My Anniversary!

Today's post will probably be a bit strange for some, but I'm going to write it anyway.  I couldn't sleep last night -- had fitful hours of weird dreams, and finally decided, "You know what?  I'm just going to get it off my chest!"   

If you know me even remotely, you know that I'm no longer married, and I'm sure a lot of people have been wondering, "How is she doing?  What must it be like to have been married for almost forty years, and suddenly find yourself living alone?  What does it feel like to find out that you never really knew the man you married?  What's it like to have shared the majority of your years on this earth with a man who concealed his heart from you?"  *note:  This is not a pity party, nor is it a bashing party.  This is me telling you what it's like to find out after almost forty years that you never, ever knew the man you married.  And, I'm telling you my story on the day that would have been my 43rd wedding anniversary. 

Back to the story.......

On April 18, 1970 on a chilly spring afternoon in Villanova, Pennsylvania a gathering of family and friends came to surround me and and the young man I was marrying with love and support and to witness our vows of love and total devotion to each other.  We had an outdoor wedding, and I must say the weather was touch-and-go right up until the final moment of setting up the chairs outdoors.  There had been a terrible thunder, lightening and pelting rain storm the evening before (an omen, maybe?) and we didn't know if an outdoor wedding would be possible until the skies parted early on that Saturday morning. 

As it turned out, there were a few rain puddles, but the sky was crystal clear, the forsythia and daffodils were in bloom, so the outdoor wedding went on as planned! 

I'm not posting any photos of the actual wedding itself.  The photos have faded, and in all truthfulness, I haven't opened the wedding album in several years now. I have no desire to ever look at those pictures again.  At least, that's how I feel at this moment in time.

What happened?  Two young Christians, met at a Christian college, fell in love, went through a year-long engagement, got married, settled down in a lovely country setting, became a model minister's family, had eleven beautiful children, and then slowly (at first) the foundation began crumbling until the climactic moment when the world came crashing down!  

Plain and simple, there was very little verbal communication in this marriage.  I think it's safe to say that if compacted into time, I cried literal years due to that one thing.  There was little to no talking within the marriage.  By nature, I'm a talker.  He was not.  

Ladies and gentlemen, here's a lesson learned.  You will never change a person!  I repeat.  You will never change a person!  I was naive enough to believe that after we got married, he would talk more.  Instead, he become more and more quiet, more private, and excluded me from major areas of his life.  ALERT!  This was a big ALERT, but I didn't pay attention. 

You can learn to live with a non-talker, especially when eleven kids fill your home with noise, chatter, and laughter!  Okay, with six boys and five girls there were some times of drama, crying, fighting, screaming, and all of the crazy, nutty stuff that comes along with having kids one right after the other!  So, the "ALERT" of non-communication was brushed aside temporarily until the kids began leaving the nest. 

And, before we knew it, there were only two daughters left living at home, and many grandchildren being born.  I was beginning to feel a bit strange --eerily strange.  I felt like I was living with someone I didn't know as the years with the eleven kids at home were winding down. 

But, it's easy to figure out that I love babies -- always have and always will.  They are life's greatest treasures -- the most magnificent of miracles, and I was blessed not once, but eleven wonderful times over!  And, now the next generation was beginning to arrive and my heart soared once again!  Now the grandkids filled those empty places in my heart and that was good........... 

Except -- there was still no communication with the man I loved.  He was more private, more withdrawn, and more secretive with "me" than when we first got married, although he was a gracious, much-loved and respected community member and the most active minister,  volunteer, counselor, and confidante you'd ever find.  ALERT!  Take care of your wife first!  Everyone else comes second.  Wife is next in line after God.  Always!

Let's just say around year thirty-six, my heart became empty.  Devoid.  No more love left.  My heart had been bleeding -- hurting -- for so many years that it finally caught up and my heart was bleeding just like the bleeding hearts you see in this picture.  My heart bled, and bled, and bled until there was no more love left for this man I had married almost forty years before.  And, so we parted.  ALERT!  Neglect is a sure sign that something is wrong!  I repeat.  NEGLECT is a sure sign something is very, very wrong!

The sad part of this very true story is that not long after we parted our ways, he was arrested and convicted of being a practicing pedophile since the age of fourteen.  Yes, that is correct.  All through our married lives, he was molesting children -- little girls were his preference.  I tremble.  I shake.  I vomit.  I shudder.  I cry.  I go numb.  There's only so much thinking I can do about this.  The man I loved.  The man I trusted.  The man I looked to for godly instruction.  The man who fathered all of my children.  The man who I wanted to make happy all the days of my life was a practicing pedophile and that is why he was so secretive and quiet and unable to communicate with me.  The man I married now sits in prison serving thirty years of incarceration which I think is a fair exchange for the lifetime of hell his actions created for the countless innocent children who were harmed by this one man.  

How does that make me feel?  Initially like dirt for not seeing what was going on.  Initially broken.  Initially angry beyond words.  Hateful towards him at times.  Weak.  Alone.  Afraid.  And, hurting beyond hell for my family!  What did they do to deserve any of this??????? 

Today, April 18, 2013 is my wedding anniversary and I am celebrating alone.  I will drink a glass of wine.  I will eat a thick, juicy steak.  I will linger over another glass of wine.  And, I will NOT cry.  I will not allow this man to have power over me any more.  I will not feel sorry for myself ever again.  I will not say, "This is terrible and I did not deserve this."  Life is unfair to most people, and truthfully this part of my life has been terribly unfair, but it will not ruin me!  I will not allow this to define me. I am bigger and stronger than this! 

My message to every person who has been trampled on, deceived, and had your heart stomped on is this:

Take some time to grieve.  Feel the hurt.  Let it go deep.  Allow it to cut and bleed (and believe me, it will)!  But, after the shock of it all and after the pain of the initial blunt force to the heart begins to stop hurting so bad you want to die, walk away for a while and take stock of your life. 

Pull the blanket of hell back and uncover the blessings of heaven that are still there!  In my case, my God, oh my God, how I thank Him for all that has been given to me!  God, how I love my children!  God, how I love the grandchildren you have given to me.  God, how I thank you for allowing me to live this long and have good health.  God, how much I thank you for food, clothing, transportation, and a home.  Oh, my home!  God, how much I thank you for allowing me to wake up to birds singing and to be surrounded by so much nature and beauty.

Do I hate being alone at this stage in my life?  At first, I did.  But, you know what?  I'm beginning to blossom in ways I never thought possible.  I feel more sure of myself than ever before.  I laugh more than I have in a long, long time.  My heart is beginning to feel alive again.  Heck, those aren't bad things -- those things are great things!  And, I've found that I'm never really alone.  Every day, there is someone who is placed in my life that blesses me in some wonderful, caring, giving way!

My special thanks today to my friend Deb, who married the man she loved with all of her heart on April 17, 1970, just one day before my wedding.  We were friends before we got married, and we remain friends to this day.  Deb, my special friend, sent me the sweetest message ever yesterday letting me know that even though she was happily celebrating her 43rd wedding anniversary, there was a sadness knowing I was not celebrating mine.

Deb, I am celebrating!  I really, really am.  And, tonight when I lay my head on my pillow, I will thank God for the wonderful blessing of a 43-year-long friendship!

Yes, indeed, April 18, 2013 is a beautiful day!  God bless all those whose hearts have been broken with the fortitude and resolve to go on!  Even with the pain, it's still a mighty fine life! 

Trust me in this -- you WILL survive!  And, you WILL blossom again.  And, you ARE a thousand times stronger than you ever imagined!!!  Don't ever allow anyone to define who YOU are!  You are magnificently made and you can survive anything!

Let's celebrate life together!!! 

Love,

Clara 



Life Lessons: What I Learned While in Haiti!

They say "experience" is the best teacher, and that statement held true to the cause while on the mission trip with "Team Blanc" in Haiti just a couple of weeks ago.  Sure, I could read about these things in a book, but to actually see, touch, feel, and live among the people in Haiti and get to experience these life lessons -- WOW!!!  Thanks for allowing me share a few of these simple truths -- my "life lessons" -- with you!

Life lesson 1:  You don't need a clothes dryer to dry clothes.  The sun does a wonderful job, and it even gives you "sun bleached, fresh smelling clothes"!  Note to self: Quit the griping and complaining when the dryer doesn't work for a day.  God gave us the sun and it works way better than a clothes dryer! Besides that, the sun never breaks down.

Life lesson 2:  Beauty can be found everywhere -- even among the most difficult times of poverty, depression, sickness, or anguish.  God has not forgotten us and gives us beauty to enjoy at all times.  We simply have to look around us.  Note to self:  Stop thinking God has forgotten me.  He hasn't!  All I have to do is look outside to view His glorious creation and be reminded that if He cares for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, He tenderly cares for me, too!

Life lesson 3:  Fancy cookware and a top-notch state-of-the-art kitchens are not requirements for preparing delicious, nutritious food.  Cooking over an open fire in a big iron kettle will get the job done marvelously! (I wish you could have seen how this pasta was cooked!  It was amazing!!!   Note to self:  Stop feeling sorry for yourself that your kitchen and cooking utensils are old.  Instead, use what you have and be thankful!!!

Life lesson 4:  Kids will be kids under any circumstances.  They know how to enjoy the simple things in life. (This little boy sliding down the railing at Tabitha's orphanage reminded me of my kids sliding down the banister at home hundreds of times squealing with laughter as they had "races.")  Note to self:  Kids don't need hundred dollar toys and a room called a "play room" to make them happy.  They just need an opportunity to be a kid!  Every child is born with a super creative mind!  A little bit of encouragement to use their minds goes a long way!

Life lesson 5:  Not all kids own a $200 pair of hiking boots, but they still manage to climb mountains and enjoy God's beautiful creation.  Note to self:  Quit stalling when it comes to getting outside and enjoying nature!  Tennis shoes or flip flops from Walmart will take me where I need to go in order to exercise and take in the beauty of nature that surrounds me each day.  I don't need to wait until I save up for that expensive pair of walking shoes!  Feet work just fine!

Life lesson 6:  Fancy conference rooms, a PhD in Psychology, and the most current forms of advanced technology are not needed for heart-to-heart conversations about life, faith and God.  A simple sit-down in nature with a friend and time spent in prayer and God's word are calming to the soul.  Note to self:  Focus on reading more of the Bible, spending time with Christian friends, and spending quiet time in nature because these are the things that will give me life-sustaining nourishment right at the moment when I need it!

Life lesson 7:  There are flowers that are survivors and can thrive, bloom, and give beauty under any condition because God made them that way.  Note to self:  Stop thinking that circumstances have to be better in order for my life to be filled with joy.  Remember that I can bloom and thrive anywhere and at any time because God made me that way!

Life lesson 8:  Laughter is a universal language and can be understood and appreciated by everyone! (This lady lives in one of the aziles we visited, and she was overcome with joy as she enjoyed the food, the sanitation pack and the hugs that we gave her! I don't think I've ever seen a bigger smile!)   Note to self:  Laugh more!  Smile more!  Relax more! There are tremendous blessings of joy given to us in each and every day -- no matter what our circumstances.  Remember to share a smile with someone every day!

Life lesson 9:  No matter what your financial situation in life you can keep yourself neat, clean, and find a way to share something with others.  (This man is part of Tabitha's orphanage and used a machete to cut and prepare coconuts for us, the visitors.  Look how neatly he's dressed!  He sure puts many of us to shame!)  Note to self:  Take care of what you have, and stop wishing for more.  Always, always find something to share with others!!!  And, share with a joyful, giving heart!  "A cup of cold water given in His name to the least of these will not be forgotten." Matt. 10:42

Life lesson 10:  This is one beautiful world in which we live!!  This beauty was made for us to enjoy, to take care of, and to be used as a blessing!  (This was a daily scene in Haiti, and one that gave great peace and a sense of belonging to God.)  Note to self:  Never, ever become too busy to enjoy the gifts found in nature.  God created this world for us to enjoy, and when walking among nature we can really connect with God through our meditation and prayer. 

I could go on and on with the life lessons learned while in Haiti.  I took well over a thousand photos and there is a lesson and story to go with each one!  (Don't worry!  I'm only sharing ten for now -- not a thousand!) 

One of the most important life lessons of all I learned was this:  You don't have to travel to a foreign land to learn life lessons or to enjoy close communion with God and others.  We have opportunities for this right where we are every single day of our lives.  That being said, sometimes people need reminders and encouragement and they need our help in pointing out the beauty in the not-so-beautiful parts of life.  And, that's why seven very ordinary people prayed so fervently to make this mission trip possible -- to be messengers of hope to those who sometimes feel forgotten and lost in a world of poverty and darkness. 

Let's be a light that shines for others! And, quit worrying if you're a bright light!  Any light is a bright light to the one living in darkness!  When we share God's love, we've shared the most meaningful light of all --  an eternal light of hope! 

Love to all,
Clara