As the years go on, I realize how fortunate I am that despite the life circumstances that I have faced, I feel like a mended being who is now in control of my destination. If I visit a difficult time in my life, I do it in a manner that does not affect my present situation. The best possible way I have discovered to do this is by writing about the past and surrendering it to experience. I would not choose to have any other being go through what happened to me, but I know there were special people in my life who were like angels in my hour of need.
I alluded to the foster grandparent program at the orphanage. These people were god sent. I could count on them to come on a regular basis, but I also learned about death through this program. My first grandparent who preferred to be called Uncle Hobart came to see me on Fridays, I believe. One day he did not come and I asked Sr. Margaret Ann where was Uncle Hobart. Her response made me feel horrible, but I could not cry. I could never cry in public. She said Uncle Hobart had been driving against doctors orders and struck a telephone pole dying instantly of a heart attack. I am not sure how I knew what death was, but I knew he would not be coming back.
Later, Grandma Jeannette would be my foster grandparent. Our relationship lasted beyond the orphanage as she and I would live merely streets apart from one another. Sadly, I did not get to say goodbye to her when she passed away as I was hospitalized when this happened.
Grandma Abbey was wonderful person who crocheted hats and scarfs for the girls. One day she did not come for awhile and I asked her why she had not been coming. She told me her daughter had been in a horrible car accident (prior to seat belts and car seats), she was holding her newborn and the baby flew out the window. I listened and snuggled a little closer to her then.
I am grateful for so many people in my life because it easily could have been steered permanently off course.
I alluded to the foster grandparent program at the orphanage. These people were god sent. I could count on them to come on a regular basis, but I also learned about death through this program. My first grandparent who preferred to be called Uncle Hobart came to see me on Fridays, I believe. One day he did not come and I asked Sr. Margaret Ann where was Uncle Hobart. Her response made me feel horrible, but I could not cry. I could never cry in public. She said Uncle Hobart had been driving against doctors orders and struck a telephone pole dying instantly of a heart attack. I am not sure how I knew what death was, but I knew he would not be coming back.
Later, Grandma Jeannette would be my foster grandparent. Our relationship lasted beyond the orphanage as she and I would live merely streets apart from one another. Sadly, I did not get to say goodbye to her when she passed away as I was hospitalized when this happened.
Grandma Abbey was wonderful person who crocheted hats and scarfs for the girls. One day she did not come for awhile and I asked her why she had not been coming. She told me her daughter had been in a horrible car accident (prior to seat belts and car seats), she was holding her newborn and the baby flew out the window. I listened and snuggled a little closer to her then.
I am grateful for so many people in my life because it easily could have been steered permanently off course.
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