The Picture Above is of my mother at Age 12.



The writing below is a 3,000 words Essay which I wrote after reading an article in Glamour Magazine asking for life stories. I'm sure it's just for fun, and I have learned a great deal from writing it. It's about my mother, grandmother and me and our love for music.

The choices my mother made set the stage for my life, but I always, always heard the music as we both did. Sometimes the song was difficult, more often than not, I failed miserably to master the score at all, but I always heard it. Throughout my eventful life, there has always been a love for music and singing. My grandmother was an opera singer and people tell me that it is from her that I received my gift of song. Her life ended tragically as well as mothers, when she died from complications from a botched abortion. Before my parents left when I was a year old, mother predicted that I would be a singer, and from the comments people make, the gift of song only gets better as I walk on in life toward distant melodies. The gift of song not only gets better, but the one singing the songs has found her place in this world.

I was a year old when Mama left us with my sister Ginny who was only 14 years old. We spent about 6 months in a foster home before being taken to the mountains of Virginia. I have a scar on my lip from being kicked in the mouth by the male foster parent. We were then taken to live with the family of my sister’s biological father in the mountains of Virginia. My brother and I lived there for 11 years.

My good memories of life there were the scenic and beautiful mountains. After turning the bend, and going down a little hill toward our mountain cabin, the scene was tranquil and serene. Across the valley, one could see the old log cabin,(which was well air conditioned), nestled in amongst stately tall pines, grand old oak trees with wild red roses towering over the house. Across the way, under some terribly old oak trees, was a Spring from which flowed ice cold water and was built using moss covered rocks. It satisfied many a thirsty soul during the hot days of summer. A little stream flowed from the Spring, through a spring box that kept homemade butter and buttermilk ice cold. I can remember making tea, from peppermint that grew on the banks of the stream. The winter brought on a scenic quality all its own. The entire valley would be covered with a deep snow, sometimes amassing snowdrifts up to 6 ft high. The branches of the lofty pines were laden down and gave the appearance of a winter wonderland.

There is no parallel between the scenic beauty of the mountains and the horrors I encountered there for 11 years. Remembrances of sexual, physical, emotional abuse carved away at my very heart and soul. We were also subjected to abject poverty and my classmates at school never failed to let me know it. However, some of the girls did provide some joy for me while at school. They would ask me to sing Elvis songs in the outside bathroom during lunch hour. What a thrill that was, as Elvis wuz my man!!!!

I didn't know until I was 35 years old that I was a half sister to the other family members…however, they all knew it! No one would listen to my cry for help, no one would even try to stop the horrors that were taking place. It has taken me years to understand that I am a person of worth, regardless of what was done to me.

The story of my life in the mountains wouldn’t be complete without writing about Ma. She was a colorful character and I write about her with the utmost respect and love. Ma was my sisters real grandmother and did the best she could with what she had, which was nothing. Much of my emotional problems stem from the way she reared me, but my hat will always be off to Ma for taking me when no one else cared. If you recall “Ma and Pa Kettle” or “Tobacco Road”, then you will have an idea of what like in the mountains of Virginia was like. Living in the mountains was a hoot for sure and the laughter and silliness from Ma and other events of mountain life have sustained me when other memories nearly stole my sanity. I have gained insight into the emotional, physical and sexual scars other women have suffered in their life and can relate to their pain.

My sister Ginny came to the rescue again for me when I was 12 years of age by taking my brother and myself out of the mountains of Virginia for good. She knew only too well what all was taking place there. My heart was broken however, over leaving my Ma, she was all I had ever known as any kind of mother.

Ginny, did not have the financial means to take my brother and me, as she was divorced with 3 little girls of her own. Every Mothers Day, I try to send her roses, and will continue to do so until she can no longer smell their sweet fragrance on this earth. Ginny and I have had some horrific problems, but our love for each other now grows sweeter as the years go by.

Ginny took us to Roanoke Va, where we lived in a house that was condemned with no heat or electricity nor anything to eat most of the time. Another entire book could be written just on the happenings that year on Elm St of how we ate, how we kept warm and my life in school there. We moved to Chicago and lived there for 2 years, then came back to Birmingham, Al., where we made our home.

The music followed me from the mountains to Chicago, where I was asked to sing in school assembly in front of probably 3,000 students. My knees have not stopped knocking since. I was also asked to sing in school assembly at a school in Birmingham. The song was Summertime. All this was preparation for me in later years, to hold my head high, and sing with assurance and self esteem in front of many people.

I left home due to circumstances beyond my control. I had the interesting pleasure of traveling all over the US selling magazines. I bought a scrapbook and began filling it with photos and mementos of all the places I had visited. Even today, I take my scrapbook out and look at memories of the many states I was privileged to visit. The grandeur of Vermont in the Fall, the placid waters of Cypress Gardens in Florida, and the clean white sandy beaches in Corpus Cristi, Texas, all hold special places in my heart. My journeys also included Mexico and Canada. The outdoor singing bands in Mexico drew me out into the street and to sing along, as the music in me was still very much alive.

After two years of traveling, I came home. Somehow life had caught up with me and I had become hardened, hateful and sarcastic. When I was a child, I had learned and used a variety of colorful words and continued to use them later in life. By this time in life, nothing seemed to be a roadblock for me so I shrugged and began my quest to find the music again.

The next few years were a blur as I tried to fill the empty places in my heart with all the things that tend to degrade a person even more. I was an untouchable, no one could hurt or use me ever again. I was 18, living with Ginny and her dad, but after a short time, I felt it best to move out on my own.

I met my future husband when I was 20 years old. He was the part owner of a “beer establishment” and so I began working there with him. The profits were slight as I was consuming most of the inventory. We were married in Virginia and came back to run the business. My first son was born a year later and I became a mother. When Carl was a year old, we decided it was best for him if we left the alcohol business. I left it, but it didn’t leave me. I had begun drinking at a very age. My sister tells me my first word was beer. It wasn’t Ma or Ginny but beer. So I continued to drink, take pills, etc, trying my best to fill my empty heart. Even though my life was a mess, according to my sons today, I was a good mother. Many times I would lie on my bed and cry out to a God I didn’t know to please not let me ruin the lives of my little boys the way mine had been ruined. My husband and I met the Master, Jesus Christ in 1971 and our lives changed forever. Music was one of the avenues that was used to fill me with a new joy and peace I had never known.

I began an entirely new journey in life, and this time, I no longer felt alone and abandoned. My 3 sons had a new mama and I was determined to give them the best start in life possible. They deserved to feel wanted, loved and to have all the encouragement they needed in life to be happy and peaceful. They were my reasons to cry out to God for a miracle in my life.

Our lives took another drastic turn a year later when we felt the the strong call of God to go in the ministry. We served in a pastoral capacity for 25 years and were very thankful for all His Love and Care in our lives. All the emotional problems that I had suffered in the past did not just go away, I had to go through life believing that I was only one step away from complete peace. I don’t know if anyone ever finds “complete peace”, however, I feel that the 25 years I spent serving Him certainly led me in the right direction. During these years, music came to the forefront of my life as I sung my heart out at every invitation.

In 1992, we moved to another church and shortly thereafter in November of that same year, Ed was diagnosed to be terminally ill with heart disease, Diabetes and a strange lung problem. The Doctor’s prognosis of two years was very accurate. For the next 2 years, Ed and I became very close, as I was his nurse and caregiver. We were together all the time and began to realize things about each other that we had not previously known or taken the time to learn. On December 27, 1995, on my birthday, Eds' spirit left this earth to soar upward to his Heavenly Home. We had shared the last twenty minutes together and said our final goodbys here on this earth.

The music was ever so real as later, I wrote a song that countless people have seemed to enjoy and sung at their loved ones funeral, entitled, “Completely Healed”. I know that Ed is now breathing freely, running through fields of flowers where the sun never sets, and I know one day I will see him again.

Even in my senior years, I still wonder what it would have been like to experience a mother’s love, someone to hold me on her lap and teach me to play the piano. I wonder what it would have been like to have a father who I could trust, one who would take care of me and protect his baby girl. Do I have emotional problems because of my past...You Bet!....Am I ashamed because of it....NO Way! I know there are many women (and men) who are in need of healing of their emotions because of horrible pasts.

The journey has been long to this place I am today, but the music continues to renew my heart and soul. I have 7 gorgeous granchildren and some of them love to sing. I have a tape of Kaicee and Ashton, my first 2 granchildren singing with me. So the music goes on! When I sit at the piano or sing a song, I hear melodies of far off distance places filled with green meadows, places filled with love and I know somewhere....

grandmother and mama can hear the music also.



The title of the beautiful Midi you are listening to is
THE ROSE ADAGIO
and was composed by Eric Halstead who so generously
sent me the the Midi at my request especially for this page.

Please visit
MUSIC FOR PIANOS
to hear more of his wonderful music.

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