At dinner each night, we say a common table prayer together and then each individual makes a prayer of gratitude. Tonight after the table prayer my husband thanked God for "his girls", the food, and our fortune, I thanked God for a good day, my oldest daughter thanked God for family and a fun day, and then it was my youngest daughter's turn. Here is how her prayer went: "Dear God, thank you for letting my cousin come over to play with me today ... and please help control mommy, daddy and my sister because they treat me like a dog! AMEN!" She grinned widely at all of us and waited for a response -- which she received immediately.
"Why do you say we treat you like a dog?" my husband asked. (My jaw was on the table.)
"Because you always say, 'Stop it Edgar!' and then you say, 'Stop it!' to me in the same voice! And you send me to my room!" She was getting exactly what she was asking for ... a good juicy reaction from all of us.
"We don't treat you like a dog! We only send you to your room when you don't listen! But I'm sorry. I won't use that same voice any more," was my saintly husband's response.
My oldest and I were alternating between chuckling and jaw-dropping.
We love our little girl and she knows how to get her feelings out. I guess next time I get upset with her, I will ask myself, am I using my dog-yelling voice? I always appreciate the fact that my kids teach me more and more about myself every day. If anyone can hold up a mirror, it's a child.
Well, it's been quite awhile since I've written anything. My heart has been extremely heavy and I just haven't been able to pull the words from the depths of my broken spirit. The photo to your left is of my son when he was a wee little thing. This past Saturday he turned 19yrs. of age and is on a path of sure destruction. I as a mother have done all that can be done by a parent to ensure a loving environment while he lived in my home, but unfortunately for some, love is not enough. As I write, an ocean of tears well up and I lose all hope and grasp at solutions that escape my touch. Anthony was raised in the country and in the church. I tried my best to be a good mother, loving, nurturing and understanding, but somewhere I failed miserably, because he has made choices that appall and surely slay my spirit as a mother. He chose at the age of 18yrs. of age to move into the Bronx with his uncle and aunt as he preferred the city life to country living. Since then he has done nothing to further his education and has had several jobs, but left them all. His relatives allow him to live in their home free of charge with no responsibilities. For the sake of time and space I will not go into the many experiences or details. This past weekend I was notified a WEEK later by his uncle that he was in my area two Thursdays ago and made a turn without using his signal. Upon searching his car the police found drugs in his trunk and he now has a felony charge pending against him. My heart is completely broken my spirit is crushed and my hands are tied. You see, this is not his first offense, but in fact is his third. I know not what to do. My words fall on deaf ears. His aunt and uncle run a dysfunctional home and I have no power over their influence. You see, they bail him out of all his mishaps. He acquired $400.00 in parking tickets and they merely paid them. When he was arrested his uncle paid $5,000.00 bail, when I would have left him there until his court date in hopes that the truth of reality would indeed shake him out of his seeming state of complainency.
