In the fall of 1974 my mom married a man who was a salesman for the company she worked for. He came to the regional headquarters about once a week and they struck up a friendship. They dated for several months and then one day we had a conversation in which she told me they were going to be married. I remember crying and shaking my head, saying "no, please don't. He's nice but you don't really love him like married folks should love each other. I know you don't. Please don't do it." She told me it would be better for all of us. Again, I begged her not to. We were fine! We didn't need him, I argued. She listened but then told me that it was not my decision. It was hers and she had made the decision. He lived in another state so we would be moving. Our lives were to change drastically. We moved from Smyrna Georgia (Atlanta area) to Birmingham Alabama. Us kids (we were 18, 12 and 10) were not even present at their wedding which took place in a preacher's office. We were left in Atlanta that weekend. A couple of weeks later we left all that we knew... our home, our church family, our schools, friends EVERYTHING - for the promise of a more comfortable life. It was not to be. I had a sense of forboding, an uneasiness. I felt like we were somehow leaving God...His protection, His care. We left against our pastor's urging us to reconsider. When we left Atlanta, I felt like we left ALONE.

Within days of our arrival in Birmingham, there was a minor disagreement between the two of them. He went to his room and pulled out a gun and told her she was now in Birmingham and she would do as he said. She was shocked at this behavior, and also very frightened. In a short time he began to manifest emotional and mental problems that would take us all spiralling down into the pits of fear and despair. He could be a kind and gentle, fun loving person but one never knew what might set him off. And then you never knew what might happen next. In the late summer of 1977 they bought a welding supply store in a small town in Central Alabama. It would be a new beginning and perhaps things would be better there. But it was not to be. . .

For the next 10 years we lived in a literal "hell on earth". . . walking on eggshells, so to speak. Numerous times the gun was brought out. . . the police were summoned . . . threats were made against our lives. I honestly never thought our family would survive this man. I fully expected to die at his hands. It was a frightening time. I was forced to move out and live alone for several months. Every morning I would get up and get dressed for work early. Then when I knew he had gone on to work, I would go by the house and visit my mom. These were special times when she would keep me informed on what was going on around there and how my younger sister and brother were doing. She was so miserable about this situation that after several months, the two came to my apartment one night and he apologized for his behavior and said my mom was missing me very much and wanted me back home. He said he did also... so I moved back in. Things were somewhat better for awhile but it could not last.

Where was the Lord in all of this?? I felt like my mom had made a wrong decision in marrying this man, but why were we all being punished? If you read my testimony page on how I became a Christian, then you know I was saved at 12 yrs old. It had been only six years and throughout those six years, I had known God's love and blessings. I had never felt like we were out from under His protection but now I did. It was like He was gone. If He was truly gone, and I was to survive, it must now be by my wits.

In 1979, I married and was out of the house, but the abuse continued. He had blamed me for much of their trouble, saying my mother and I were "too close". :-/ For the next five years the situation deteriorated to the point where I think we all knew that it was going to end in a horrible way if something did not change. My mother tried to get away from him but he threatened that no one would get out alive if she tried to leave him.

In 1985 things came to a breaking point. There was one horrible week which I do not like to remember, yet cannot forget - all came to a finale` and there were several desperate hours in one day where my mother was literally running and praying for her life. He went off the deep end. Then he disappeared. Yes, disappeared. When he called again, he was calm and controlled. He told her he was leaving and he would sell her his half of the business - he wanted out. What a relief! He took his things and left town. He left the business in a precarious condition because he had stolen from it over the years. My mother had her work cut out for her to make it go.

The following year our precious Nannie, my Mom's Mother fell ill. She was sick from Christmas, on into the new year, and finally diagnosed in April 1986 with lung cancer... Small Oat Cell. A very BAD one. She lived until the end of December 1986. We were all devastated. One of our ROCKS, our 3 "constants" in this life was taken away. My Mother had leaned on her Mother and depended upon her. She felt so alone after her death. Of course, she had us, but there was an emptiness and a longing. She was different from that point on. And at the funeral home, walking out to the car, she looked me square in the eye and said "I figure I am 3 to 5 years behind her". This just tore me to pieces and I told her not to say things like that. I begged her to stop smoking before it was too late. She said nothing more about it.

Life SLOWLY returned to "normal". The week after my grandmother died, the first Sunday in January 1987, I went back to a church for the first time since we left Georgia. I knew I desperately needed the Lord back in my life. I had been running and running, trying to take care of myself and doing a very poor job of it. I had been like David, running and hiding in caves from Saul who sought to kill him... living by my wits for so long, thinking God no longer cared. But now, faced with the death of someone I dearly loved, everything was brought into perspective. I had 2 children - one 5 and one 4. They needed to be taken to church. They needed to grow up knowing God's love for them. So back to church and back into the waiting arms of God, I ran like a scared child. Whatever the future held for me, for us . . . I knew God must be there, guiding us, leading the way... and we must follow close to Him.

Christmas 1987 was difficult. We had always shared Christmas with my Grandparents and there was a gaping hole there that year. The next was slightly better. In 1989 my mother made the decision to close the struggling business and move to her birthplace, an hour away from us. Financial reasons played a big part in this decision. But there were other, more compelling reasons. We could not understand and did not want her to leave. Our hearts were broken - why would she WANT to leave us? There was a reason but it was unknown to the three of us at the time. There was almost an urgency about her decision. So in July of 1989 she moved into an apartment. She was now closer to her daddy, and her sister and brother lived there. But what about us? We were here. Over the coming months we drove over almost weekly to visit her. . . cherished times together.

Then came Christmas 1989. I had a baby in January, now 11 months old. Our lives were good. My Paw Paw seemed to be happy, at peace and enjoying his family. My mother loved her children and her grandchildren. She so enjoyed little Zachary. He was a delight to her heart. It seemed that God was mending our broken hearts and restoring our joy. I remember my mother looking very tired that Christmas, but overall, it was a special time. It would be our last Christmas together. If only I had known then..... I would have held tighter to each moment and memorized every word, every look, every smile.

Are you ready to go on to the year 1990? Bring your kleenex and come with me. We will go together.

The music you are listening to is "Somewhere" from the movie "An American Tail".