Changes

It has been an emotionally charged week for me...some major life changes lying just ahead, and as much as I'd like to say I am flexible and can just go with the flow like I did when I was younger, I cannot.

Some of the changes are definately positive via my current perceptions...and mind you, that is not always correct... and some I am a little less sure of.

I will be changing residences, acquiring wheels, have my middle son and my precious grandson within 4 hours of me since they are moving to this state...I see all of these as positive changes.

Here is one of the kickers, though...In 1981, when my youngest son was under one year old, my husband and the father of my sons and I separated for the third and final time. He was and is a compulsive liar and unemployable. During the six years that we were married, we lived in 23 different residences, including a 3 day stint in the car at a rest stop with two young children during my third pregnancy. Why, you may ask?

We lived on my next to minimum wage only...most times we were evicted because I simply couldnt keep up with the rent on my meager income alone.During our marriage, he had had approximately 5o+ different jobs all of which he either walked away from or was fired from because somebody didn't like him, somebody did something to him, yadda yadda yadda...

He left the state after we separated, vowing that I would never in this life time see a dime of child support. And he remained true to his word.Not only that, but he never once called to even see if his sons were alive.

Day before yesterday my middle son, who is now 26, received a call from a young lady who claimed to be his father's sister's husband's niece...who had somehow managed to track him down. She called to tell him that his aunt and uncle (his MIA father's sister and her husband) were worried about whether or not he had survived the hurricanes...and she gave him their phone number.

Now, Get this...his father's sister and her husband have two sons. One of those sons, raped my son when he was only 4 years old. He never told me until he was fifteen years old...and by that point my son was unsure which son it was, he just knew that it happened when he was 4 in the younger son's room.

I am not a violent individual, by any stretch...but if there were anyone I would like to torture and kill, it would be his perpetrator. God forgive me. And if there were anyone I would wish off of this earth and beyond the reach of my sons, it is their sperm donor and his family who cared so much that they chose to hide him and protect him from the law rather than make him be responsible for his own flesh and blood.

My son called them, and they gave him his father's phone number and told him that his father wanted very much to talk to him.

Jesus stated very clearly in the Bible that with the measure of forgiveness one gives, with that measure shall he be forgiven...I am guessing that the same applies to mercy...

I am sick to my stomach even writing about this...I am in some deep trouble here...not much forgiveness or mercy to be found in my heart for these folks...

And of course, these people, and I almost choke on calling them that, want to see my sons, and my precious grandson...

Lots of changes...yuppers...
Thanks for listening...
A truly conflicted twisted sister!