BLESSING
My first born daughter, Cheryl, had problems with her ears and throat before she reached the first year of her young life. Tonsillitis caused her ears to be infected and along with that came a lot of pain for such a young child. When this would happen there were sleepless nights in our home.
The doctor said they could not remove the tonsils until she became two years old. If my memory serves me right, it was that they would grow back in again if removed at such an early age.
When she turned two, bingo, right to the doctor we went to have this problem taken care of. Her health improved so much once the tonsils and adenoids were taken out. When tonsils come out, according to the doctor, they automatically remove the adenoids.
All her growing up years I remember one time the doctor came to our home as she had a bleeding nose that would not stop. Dr. Galen cauterized a weak blood vessel; the nose bleeds stopped.
I believe that God’s Hand was on Cheryl especially this one day when she was pitching on a softball teenage league for girls. This is proven in Isaiah 44:3 For I will pour water upon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground: I will pour my spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thy offspring. The girl Cheryl pitched to hit the ball so hard; it came directly at her face. Her reflexes were so quick; her catcher’s mitt went directly up to her face and caught the ball. If that ball had not been caught, I might not have my daughter today. The girl she pitched to was a powerful and excellent hitter and went on into the senior softball league for young women.
Not to brag much but our team the “Red Barons” were the Junior Division champions in 1972. There were three woman coaches Nancy Wandoshion, Eleanor DiMauro and myself. Proverbs 18:10 The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.
Chapter 10
ANSWERED PRAYER
Do you remember the first time that you prayed to God? Do you remember if God answered your prayer? Well I remember when I was a young child, around the age of four years old or slightly younger the night I prayed out to God for help.
We had moved up from New York to Connecticut to get away from an area that was once very nice but started turning very quickly into a less desirable and unsafe place to live. My parents found an apartment in a six family building on the third floor.
This one particular evening my mom and dad went out on a date. When they returned, I was woken up from my sleep with my father yelling at the top of his lungs. “I’m going to kill you Lill; I’m going to kill you!” My bed was against a locked door at the top landing before you went into the apartment. I was so scared and started crying out to God. “Oh God, please do not let my father kill my mother.” It was one of the few times in my entire life that I ever felt so helpless and frightened. I hid under the covers and covered my ears so I did not have to hear any more horrible words coming out of my father’s mouth. When the yelling finally stopped, I went back to sleep and woke up in the morning with my first answered prayer. My mother was still alive I hope I remembered to thank God back then for “answered prayer.” Psalm 56:3 What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.
Chapter 11
MY PARENTS
Born of a Christian mother and a Jewish father, my siblings and I were raised as Christians. My mother believed in God and went to church once in a while; whereas my father never mentioned God or his religion. When asked where he would want to be buried, his answer was, “Just throw me in the river.”
My parents were middle class working people. Mom worked the years when my sisters and I were in school. To pick up some extra money, Dad would bartend at the Fraternal Order of Eagles. That was pretty much up his alley, as when he was outside our home life, he was an entirely different man. He was joking and making people laugh, drinking too much and being the life of the party. He appeared to the outside world to be a “great guy.” Unfortunately, this” great guy” could not bring it home. Looking back on the life my parents gave to us children, and I am just speaking for myself and not my sisters, I believe dad was not the type to be settled down with the responsibility of raising a family. Later on in years, my younger sister thought that he was an alcoholic even though he did not drink everyday; there are various patterns of alcoholics, i.e. drinking daily, only on the weekends or every Friday night, etc. I am sure there are more but this is just the ones I am familiar with.
My grandfather on my dad’s side was an alcoholic, owned a Butcher Shop plus a Horse Riding Stable and beat up my grandmother and left her with three young children; the youngest six months old and never to be seen again. My grandmother made a living being an excellent seamstress. She could make any garment without using a pattern. Gram definitely had a God given gift.
My Mom was more of an introvert; did not talk much and kept everything that disturbed her within herself. She was the oldest of six children and when her mother died she was only twelve years of age. My grandfather had to work to support his children and because he did not have the finances to bring someone in to help take care of them, they went to stay with different relatives. All except my mom who was put into an orphanage until my grandfather could bring her home when his life became more settled. I do not know how long she was there but eventually she and my Aunt Ethel, my mom’s sister and my godmother, went to live with a relative in New York.
I remember when I was in my teens, mom was very sick at times, even put into the hospital with duodenal stomach ulcers. I believe that dad added much tension, stress and heartache that helped create this problem within her. My mother’s sister, Aunt Helen, told me that my father used to beat her up. All that mental and physical abuse from dad caused her to have a mental breakdown. She was put into a hospital; I do not know for how long. Later on in life I learned when my mother became pregnant with me, my father was not happy and did not want her to have this baby. I cannot honestly say this all happened at the time when she was in the hospital; but it sure makes me wonder.
When my Uncle Al was around, my father knew to watch his behavior; as my uncle served in the Army and my father was not in the best of shape to fight against a trained military man. At family gatherings there was drinking and one time there was a fight between the two of them and my dad’s arm became broken. Uncle Al was my mother’s youngest brother and was also my godfather. I knew he loved my mother very much and did not get along with my father as when dad drank, he turned into a very cruel hard to handle person. I believe when my uncle was around, dad dared not do anything to physically hurt her but he sure turned on the mental abuse. That can be worse than physical abuse.
When dad wanted to go do his “own thing,” he would pick a fight over the most minor issue toward my mom, get so angry and just leave our home. That was his out, or it could have been his own indifference to run away from his responsibilities just to have another fling. He had left a few times in my younger years. I was really too young to understand the rhyme or reason of his thinking until I started putting things together as I matured.
During one of his “get a ways” I recall him bringing my siblings and myself ice cream. That comes to my remembrance as I was probably around ten years old and it was in the summertime. Thinking to myself why are you now bringing us ice cream, you never took us out for ice cream before or took us anywhere and all of a sudden here you are bringing us ice cream? How come now? Where were you when we needed you? Where were you when my mother needed you? Now here you are trying to buy our love with ice cream! It had been quite a while since we had even seen him, so did he feel in his mind ice cream will take away any hurt or rejection that he might have caused us? Or maybe he was trying to get on the good side of my mom so she would let him come back home. I had so many mixed emotions regarding him; love, hate, resentment
