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Dawna Lynn

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Member Since: Dec, 2006

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   Recent stories by Dawna Lynn
· Until Death Do We Part
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Hurricane Katrina: In the Eye of the Storm
By Dawna Lynn
Thursday, December 21, 2006

Rated "PG" by the Author.

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Sometimes parents have to play TOUGH LOVE in order to be a good parent. This story is done in poetry and you may have to read it and reread it to understand it. This story is in the eye of the storm too, my book.

OUT ON A LIMB

 

I parked myself in a seat pondering what to implement a propos of tomfoolery of my youngest spawn.

My viscera was in reef knot in the vein of a churn swishing around a mass of attire.

I was unsettled to give in, yet also afraid not to.

I knew if I gave into my progeny’s desires there would be a hell of a score to remunerate in closing stages.

I knew if I didn’t give into my offspring’s ill fated desires, at hand there would be hell to pay as well; perhaps a vile recompense at that.

I treasured my daughter with all my valor, on the contrary the scrutiny in my psyche was combating my own view of veracity.

I pleaded with God to facilitate me, in spite of this; I was additionally fighting my own answer on the road to my own prayer.

I sought after an escape, wanting to scuttle faster than the wind; nonetheless, I had no choice, other than to stay.

I had no buttress from my family unit when it came to the chap my daughter fell in love with; the man that held malevolence within him. 

I merely had the goodness of the Lord to occupy my heart with His   dynamism to go on devoid of my family circle.

I “for one” knew the veracity, the realism that would forevermore revolutionize the line of attack my daughter deliberated concerning me.

I was wedged in-between a rock and a hard place.

I had to go behind my family units’ backside making assessments that would not be accepted amongst my family members. A verdict that may perhaps even kill the love of what I had left of my marriage.

I had to do something, as I had to step up to plate and bat for my family. Something I had to do rather I could swing the bat hard enough to formulate a dent or not.

I knew I would strike out when it came to my oldest daughter.

I knew I would get an out when it came to my youngest daughter.

I knew I would hit a foul ball when it came to my husband.

I knew I would get to first base when it came to my son, however only by technicality and reason of insanity of getting hit by the ball.

I knew when it came to the young man I adopted into our family that I could get to any base as long as I had God on my side to drift me there.

I knew when it came to the choice I had to make, a choice I should not have had to make,  that I would get a home run, only for the reason that I knew this sadistic chap would not be able to deceive and destruct my family again; A pleasant price to pay, yet not without negative aspect.

I also knew prior to stepping up to the plate that I would have too much pine tar on my bat, calling me back from my homerun.

I nevertheless smacked that ball to left field and over the fence it went.

I put my foot down on each plate in the field, as I ran my free bases, yet the crowd was not boisterous.

I was not in home field advantage; I was drifting on enemy territory.

For each plate I put my foot down on, I knew I was stomping on each and every one of my families heart, yet I also knew I was doing the right thing though I felt ever so vacant.

When I stepped on home plate, I was counted out by every member of my family, as you cannot make a homerun with too much pine tar on the bat, the pine tar I decided I had to put on that bat.

In order to overcome the war of the battle I was in all alone, I had to decide on something, something that would stick as I was in dangerous territory.

I lost my families respect for me they once had, the respect I once knew, Yet I saved my family, as I had sufficient audacity to step up to that plate that all and sundry declined to step up to.

My progeny were flying alone, for the reason that hearts were weighing heavy.

I had too much time, yet not an adequate amount of time, yet time was running out.

I had to formulate decisions that were ghastly, yet pronouncements that had to be completed.

I never on one occasion had to step up to a plate plus bat for something of this great magnitude, the importance of my family’s life, my family’s well-being.

Knowing this all, I in addition knew no matter how well I played the game; I would never win in full.

I knew someone would be hurt if I did not play the game, someone would be hurt if I did play the game, a lose, lose scenario to someone.

Face it, nobody wins, when at hand, is vast deception maneuvering from one person to the next.

Parenting is a vacillating travel. It is an emotional roller coaster when you are traveling that channel all alone.

All along you are aware if you compose one erroneous move. One wide of the mark pronouncement, and missed any pitches thrown to you that you would screw it all up, causing perhaps a sudden death overtime.

Parenting is not an effortless job, conversely it is a choice.

I opted to have children as I adore children.

I chose to love these children, care for them in every way, shape and form until death do we part.

I chose to maintain a safe environment for them if that meant I would not be out of harm’s way myself.

I chose to have my children. I chose to make choices that were not very favorable to my children and/or my spouse, but a choice that I hoped not to be regretful for.

I chose to live when my children wanted to die, so I could be there for them and care for them.

I chose a ballgame that I was never too good at, the game of rearing children for the reason that I never had any practice, any help; nevertheless I chose to be a parent as children were and are my passion. I chose to be the best parent I could and I chose to fall so my kids could rise up, even when they felt like running… like the wind right along with me, but by no means beside me.

I chose to love, cherish, and adore my family, even if this meant I would not be loved, cherished and adored back for my decisions that solely lied within me.

My job is to love, protect, and keep my family safe until they reach an age that they can decide for themselves what is safe and secure. I also knew this meant I may not be liked, but as a parent that was not my job. I knew I would not be popular with my choices, but that also was not my job.

I knew I would be risking my family to stray from me, but that was the chance I had to take; the chance a lot of parents have to take when keeping their children in a safe and loving environment.

To keep them in a place they could call home and be proud of even if this is not the home they want to be at.

I had to put the pine tar on the bat to make it stick, as I had to choke up on the bat and put someone my children loved behind bars, someone I loved as well.

I had to do this for the safety of my home and anyone who dwells within my home.

I had to cheat, cheat myself out of being the loving parent my children “ONCE” adored, only because I did and do love them.

 
 

 
 
 

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Reviewed by Vickie Yannuzzi 12/23/2006
you are right I will have to read it over and over to truly understand the struggle of the choices you were faced with.
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 12/21/2006
Excellent story; very well done! :)




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