I’m Sorry. I Forgot…

WP_20160513_001Mother’s Day has come and gone,
And I forgot to call,
I meant to do it along,
And I forgot it all.

I never told you just how much,
I loved you, my dear aunt,
And now you’re gone, out of touch,
I want to tell you, now I can’t.

You’ve gone to be with God now,
I’ll see you, as soon I can,
Then I will tell, I know somehow,
I’ll see you once again.

Goodbye, I love you,
I’m sorry I forgot,
I’ll send these flowers up to you,
I’m sorry, I forgot.

~ van ~

Another Year, But Different Resolutions

New Year’s resolutions are difficult. Sometimes I set my goals too high, and end up failing, at least that’s how I feel about not meeting my goals. I’d never thought about making resolutions about my blog before, but then…why not?

What can I do to set resolutions for, that I can actually dedicate myself to doing with my blog? I am a sporadic writer at best, but I’ve been told that my writing is very powerful, due to the way I write about my subject matter, which stems from childhood sexual abuse.

I’m thinking that if people are reading my posts, and getting something from them, why don’t I try to reach more people that could benefit from my writing? How would I do that?

I don’t like to judge my blog by statistics, or followers, or number of clicks. That is why I rarely look at my statistics. I look at the comments, at what people actually think about my posts. So, if I try to reach more people that might benefit from my writing, I think I should look around and see what is out there. What I can read, what I can learn from it, and how can I help others to deal with such issues as I am?

I want to make one resolution to take a look at my Reader every day, see who is out there and what they are writing. The benefits can be two-fold. One, I can enrich my blog by learning from others, and two, I may be able to find others who could benefit from my writing. So that is resolution number 1.

My second resolution would be to interact with my readers, and those whose posts I read. This will give me ideas about how to write my posts so that they reach more people. I could do this by commenting more, rather than just ‘liking’ a post. Another way would be to visit the blogs of my readers, see where they are coming from and maybe make more friends that have similar interests, but also interests far different from the things I look at every day. So resolution #2 is to interact with my readers through commenting and looking at their sites.

My third resolution is to look more deeply into myself, find out what else might be in there that I can pull out and put into words. Resolution #3 is for introspection into my own abuse, and how it has shaped and continues to shape my life.

These seem maybe a little lofty for me, but they are something to try to attain, even if I only reach one new person a month, or learn one new thing about myself this year.

Those are my three blogging resolutions for 2016.


I woke up, and I do not know,
What has me feeling quite so low,
I know that something’s just not right,
But the answer hasn’t come to light.

All alone, again this day,
How long, this time, will I stay?
Sad and lonely all day long?
Even I know something’s wrong.

I need someone to share life with,
Where each of us will take and give,
The love God said we all deserve,
Maybe He’s holding mine in reserve.

Holding for the day that’s right,
This day is not within my sight,
I feel that it is so far away,
Waiting for that final day.

The day when God will call me home,
The day my heart no longer will roam,
Looking for the love that’s right,
When it’s truly here, within my sight.

A Letter For Mothers Day

Some had mothers who cared so much,
Some had mothers who did no such.
Mine was up and down each day,
I didn’t know which was the right way.

Mom, you made my life very difficult, not only as a child but as an adult, right up to this day. I lived in fear of your anger. I never knew when it was coming, like a bolt of lightning from the sky.

I felt as though you were not proud of me. I felt as though you didn’t love me. The truth, I think, was that you were not capable of love. I believe that you, too, were damaged somewhere in life, and that our mental health was passed on from generation to generation.

How can I hate someone who is ill? I can’t. Was I capable of loving you? Not then, while I lived under your control. The fear continues to live on in me, the mental illness passed on to me.

But that cycle ends with me, and with my brothers. None of us had children of our own and that can’t be coincidence, as they both married and are still married. But I remained single, but not just due to you. There was another kind of abuse going on in that house, that you didn’t seem to be aware of.

I’ve heard of people having love/hate relationships, and perhaps that applies to my life, not just for you, but for Dad, and for all the significant others I have had during my 55 1/2 years of life.

But now you are gone. I never got to really talk to you as one adult to another. I was always your daughter, and was treated as such. I no longer have the opportunity to tell you that I love you. After years of therapy, I realize that I do love you, and I do not. I cannot.

Am I capable of loving today? I love God, in a very special way. And I love my family, a family I would not have had, if not for you.

I Needn’t Be Sad!

My last post expressed the sadness about experiencing Christmas without my mother.
I have since had a change of heart. God has given me the greatest gift of all – the gift of love, from Him and for others. That is something to celebrate and feel good about.
Christmas is all about this precious gift given to me in the birth of His Son, Jesus Christ. This is what I should be celebrating, not who I am with, where I am, or how many presents I get.
I am not expecting any gifts this year, but I have the greatest gift of all, and that is all that I need.
I needn’t be sad about that!

Why Do I Love An Abuser?

This is a question I keep asking myself:

I was abused by both of my parents as a child.  Physical and emotional abuse thrown at me by mother, and sexual abuse from my father.

My mother passed away from cancer, almost 6 months ago.  Whenever I think of her I get this aching hole in the middle of my chest.  I miss her.  She was a mean woman.  Why do I love her?  How can I possibly miss her?

My dad passed in 2004, He sexually abused me for years, and I cried my eyes out at his funeral.

Not so with my mother.  I just sat there, motionless, wondering who all came to the graveside service.  Her sister, who is 13 years older sat next to me.  She was crying.  Yet, I miss my mom.