Strength from a Troubled Heart
Annette Tewell
Sitting at the window, trying to
concentrate on the task as hand, my mind has been doing some really crazy
things. I keep darting back in time,
flitting from one thing to another: the
love I have felt, the difficult times, and the tragic memories of far too many
dreams smashed against the rocks. If a
person’s life truly flashes before them prior to death, I wonder if this is to
be my last day.
I feel reasonably sure that my
confrontation with Mr. Dee is the reason for my mixed emotions. The years I have spent, and the long hours I
have poured over books and papers seem to have been for naught. One more time my dreams and desires are in
the hands of a seemingly, uncaring
individual. One more time I am left to
pick up the pieces and try to find a place to start over. Is this another trial? Is the Lord trying me for a reason? What in my life is so unpolished that the
Lord finds need to chastise me over and over with one heart-rending trial after
another?
Mom is there, along with Richard, Tony,
and David. The ups and downs of my early
years flood in like the rolling tide in the midst of a storm. The day we left Pennsylvania, never to see
our family and friends again: David chose to stay, and one piece of my heart
was left to wiggle and wither in the dust of our home place. Our new home would become a jungle of terror
and confusion. The man mom had chosen to
marry became a tyrannical madman. His
crazed notions of what home life should be nearly drove all of us insane.
The memory of Tony boarding the bus in San
Antonio, to return to Pennsylvania because Bill could not accept him as a son,
still causes tears to spring to my eyes.
His last words as he boarded that bus, “Vaya con Dios,” still ring in my
ears. His teasing laughter gone from our
midst caused another piece of my heart to be ripped from my chest and thrown to
the tear-streaked ground. What with
David and Tony both gone, I became the oldest child at home, and life took on
some unexpected twists.
We were in Texas for about Two years, and
most of that time is a blur. Only short,
occasional memories float in and cascade through the rivulets of my mind. Like the time the road near our building was
re-tarred and, on a dare, I ran across it only to have to run back across it
with masses of warm sticky tar bulging from my feet. Walking across the lawn and drive way proved
to be a nightmare. All the grass, rocks, and burrs became part of
that oozing mass attached to my once bare feet.
With all the other army brats standing around jeering, I made my way to
the second floor landing and called to Mom.
It took nearly a week to get all of the tar and foreign objects off of
my feet! I was not only homebound and
humiliated; I was sentenced to sleeping on the bare floor to keep tar from
staining the furniture and sheets.
We moved to Louisiana when Bill was
transferred to Germany. We lived near my
step- grandfather until we were able to leave for Germany, too. Christmas that year proved to be an
exceptionally different one. At home, in
Pennsylvania, we had big wonderfully decorated trees. The Christmases spent in San Antonio were a
far cry from the beautiful white Christmases celebrated back home with huge
family gatherings that proved to be quite boisterous and fun-filled, but even
these toned down Christmases did not prepare us for the one in Louisiana. To begin with, we were to leave for Germany
the following January, so most of our belongings had already been packed and
picked up by the government movers. As
near as I can remember, we had just enough dishes, sheets, towels, etc. to make
do. As Christmas day approached, Richard
and I began to trouble Mom for a tree.
Her explanation of no decorations did not squelch our desire for the
traditions of Christmas. About two or
three days before the big day, we stepped out into the yard and broke a big
berry-studded holly branch from a tree.
Singing and joking we carried it into the big room that served as both
bedroom and living room. Standing it in
a milk bottle, we stood back to admire our Christmas tree. It definitely needed some decorations. For the next few days, Richard and I made
foil bells out of foil milk jug caps, and we made a multi-colored paper chain
to wrap around our tree, while Mom made cookies and sang Christmas carols.
Finally, Christmas Eve! That night, as Richard and I lay in bed, I
recall trying to convince my baby brother that there really was a Santa
Claus. In my heart I knew that a big
part of the joy of Christmas ended when the greatest myth in the world was no
longer believed. The fire in the fireplace
and lights from the kitchen reflected on the foil bells, cookie aromas hung in
the air, and we were happy. Sometime
during the night, Santa did make his appearance. That was the last merry Christmas for many
years to come.
I enjoyed living on the various bases in
Germany because military people away from home are like a close knit
family. There were no hateful
prejudices, and everyone was accepted. I
was able to visit old castles, the Guttenberg Bible Museum, walk through
forests, climb up mountains and stroll through quaint little villages. School was great, and I made many lasting
friendships. Home life was hell. Bill’s
drinking and rages became daily events.
School and friends became my oasis, and these are memories I welcome: playing
and chasing our fox Rex, learning to ballroom dance, playing baseball, learning
to play the accordion, playing Betsy Ross in a play at school, buying Mom
yellow roses for Mother’s Day, and riding the bike day in and day out.
I have sat here for hours allowing my mind
to take me on one journey after another.
It was good to be involved with Mom and the boys again, but reality is
Mom and David are gone and Tony and Richard are far away living their own
lives, and I have got to get on with mine.
I, too, have family to support and, if Mr. Dee feels that I am too soft
spoken to do the job he wants done, wait until I get through letting him hear
what I have to say to him come Monday. I am quite capable of handling anything
that comes my way. The Lord and I make a
majority, and Mr. Dee is going to find this out!
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