There is joy in every life . . . 7/3/2003 11:19:33 AM
In a world where war, heartaches, discord and such thrive, it's so easy to forget that joy exists in our hearts and souls.
Love, hope, peace and goodness also thrive but we must cultivate, acknowledge and cherish them.
I am who I am and what I am because all things shaped and molded me. My beloved father, Lee, died of cancer of the abdomen (when I was five) on the Fourth of July, 1953.
My mother died June 25, 1983 of a heart attack after having been bedfast since the age of forty-two (when I was but twelve). I became 'mom' to my four sisters and brother.
I had only two children--a boy, Doug, and a girl, Sherry--and then underwent out-patient treatment for T.B. which left me unable to have more children. My Aunt Beatrice was dying of T.B. when she attended my father's funeral. She passed it on to me. (It no longer shows up in my X-rays.)
My only daughter, unmarried and pregnant, had agreed to let us adopt the little girl she was carrying but, in August 1992, aborted her at six months gestation. We'd already begun buying baby things and had decided to call her Deborah Michelle.
Sherry had has five abortions, one stillbirth and we're raising her son born in April 1994 (at 5 months, 3 weeks) with cerebral palsy, Christian Douglas “Doogie” Turner. He was born early because she and her beau were arguing about another abortion!
As a result of ROP due to prematurity, Doogie is now going blind. He’s nine, in the fourth grade and reading in Braille. His left retina detached in March of 2002 (no vision was able to be restored to that eye); on March 2003 his right retina detached (some vision has been regained). His vision was 20/60 in the right eye and is now 20/200—legally blind. More surgery is planned in the near future.
Now married and living in Ohio, his mother, Sherry, (her eighth pregnancy) again gave birth prematurely May 7th at five months gestation (Michael Logan weighed only 14 ounces). He lived but a few hours.
On Dec. 3, 1992 my only son, Doug, 23, disappeared. When he was found Feb. 4, 1993--buried beneath a wood pile in the back yard of his fiancee's 'other man'--we learned that he'd been shot through the abdomen and fell to his knees, his assailant (doing 20 yrs to life)--James--then took an axe and (from behind) struck a blow that split his skull to the nape of his neck. Thirteen more blows were landed before James put the axe aside, put Doug into the rear of his truck and buried him in his back yard.
I am deaf but lip-read well.
I write because it’s therapy :), I jest because it makes me feel good and I love being at A.D. because it enriches me—body and spirit.
I thank God for having known my father, having grown through taking over the household when my mother went to bed, for having two beautiful children, four beautiful step-children and a host of friends and relatives whom I love dearly. I thank God that I once heard, that Doogie could once see, that we’ve adjusted well.
When all is said and done, I thank God when I wake each morning. Nothing compares to LIFE; enjoy it thoroughly . . . I do :)!
