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Telling the story again for the new readers so that they are aware of why I write and continue to challenge those who need ‘help’ to find it.
For many years as an adult I have been in a recovery type of season, either in a group setting or individual counseling sessions.
It took health issues, some depression, and spiritual renewal to show me I needed to look backward before I could look forward.
We grow best when we allow the truth to show us the broken pieces of our hearts.
As a little girl growing up I was not really aware of some of the broken places in my heart, I just tried my best to survive in the world we lived in.
Life began in a rural part of Eastern Oregon, with a mom and dad and two older sisters. There were plenty of cats and other animals for we lived on a farm part of the time.
It seemed pretty normal … until it didn’t.
Our dad was a farm hand, tending to many things, always wearing jeans and western shirts, cowboy hat and boots (at least that is in my memory).
He loved music and they often would go square dancing on the weekends, I think it was in the school gym or a building with wood floors.
Us little kids would go and even though I don’t remember much about it, we would watch and play or sleep till the night was over and it was time to go home.
Life seemed pretty good and relatively happy.
Then one day when I was around age five, our dad left us.
One day he was there, and the next day he wasn’t.
It was traumatic and shocking for all of us.
When I look up the word trauma says: {psychologically painful.
a powerful shock that may have long-lasting effects.}
This is exactly what took place.
Long lasting effects on a heart and spirit of a child.
Abandonment is not an easy topic. {to give up; discontinue; withdraw from: to leave completely and finally; desert: to abandon one’s farm; to abandon a child}
We were at that moment in time, abandoned by our dad.
I am not sure why and don’t want to know; he is not with us any more; he passed away a few years ago, even as an old man I never asked him.
Our reality had changed and as time moved forward many things would change for us.
We had a mom, who also felt very abandoned and a dad who was missing and as little children we didn’t know how to navigate the thoughts and feelings.
There was no one to help us and the questions and tears were ours to sort out alone.
It was our truth. So when I say I have a trauma filled childhood, it started when our dad left us and left our hearts hurting for something real and loving.
The story continues as I move through the why I write and tell the story.