From BULLIED to HERO to PLAIN STUPID!!

Hola Amigos!

My posts will become more and more difficult for me to write. My childhood was difficult but the actions and decisions then were not in my hands, but in my teens and beyond the decisions I made were my own. Many of them sucked big time. Some of you will be able to relate and my intention for writing this blog is to shine some light on the fact its never to late to confess and try and bring some closure to haunting decisions!

Our lives are like automobile's. Many autos are taken care of and have their oil changed and tuned up regularly and some don't. Some get driven hard and over some very rough roads while others only go to church on Sunday. Some are shiny and new and fly down the highway's while others are old an rusty and just putt along. But whether they are new or old, shiny or rusty, fast or slow,  they are still just automobile's.  People also are new and shiny, old and rusty, flashy and well tuned, plain and modest. Often times when a car crashes its so damaged its junked out and forgotten. People also run off the highway of life and some like auto's are so damaged they become forever stuck and forgotten. That's where auto's and people seperate. For God has given us a brain, heart, and soul so he/she can dwell in us and show love and mercy to each other. I feel we are called to step off our busy highways at times and help out when God calls. Whether that's going to Africa to work among the poor or helping out an elderly neighbor with racking leaves. We should be willing to stop, get off our highway, and be present in others lives. Especially if we have children. I have always felt that God's love has to be more than words, it should call from inside and encourage us to step out of ourselves and show God's love with a smile, a nudge, a hug, and to just be "Present"!

My highway of life has had some ups and downs and even some serious crashes. In time I managed to get back on the highway and I tried so hard to stay in control of my steering wheel, until about 10 years ago when I started doing my trips into the world. At first they were called mission trips, taking my God whom I found in my study and prayer. I listened to preachers, read books, involved with a number of bible studies so I was prepared to take my God into the world. Well, I found out that God was already there! Heck, he/she didn't need my thoughts and words, all that was asked of me is to let Christ use my hands and feet and let God do all the talking. Now my trips are just God helping trips. I love, I hug, I laugh, and I just play with the kids and for a moment of time, joy is served to everyone! To walk with and not just talk to! I'm called to love all I encounter and leave any judging to God! I've sat with, ate with, talked with, and worshiped with some very, very poor people. But poverty is not a death sentence! Not having a loving person in someone's life is! That unconditional love of a mom, or dad, or just anyone who takes the TIME to love and encourage a child makes all the difference. Its not about money, place, or things! Its all about unconditional LOVE! But even though I felt my mom's unconditional love I made some real stupid choice's! Mom had a third grade education and spent many years in abuse. Her one dream was for us kids to graduate high school, and we did. But my own experience as a parent is that unconditional love is essential, but needs to be supported by guidance, encouragement, exposure to multiple ideas and cultures, and to walk and explore the world beside our children so they can find their own faith and truth! If children are able to see, hear, touch, taste beside a loving and caring adult they will see God! Even if they drive off the highway and get lost once in awhile down their own road of life, (which I personally think they should), those key lamp posts in their lives will shine through and bring them back.

"Mountain Top"

My brothers and I found that living in a small rural town could be fun and safe to run and explore in. There was a woods and creek just across the street from our house and we spent many hours hanging out in those woods. I can still hear mom yelling for us boys to come in for dinner. My sisters were older and along with brother Bill they were off working, married, and putting together their own lives. I've heard many horror stories about why my sisters left so young, but they are just stories and I simply believe it was safer and easier to try and make it on their own than live inside a home where at times it probably felt more like a torture chamber than a home. Brother Bill and all four of my sisters were so different but awesome in each their own way. I have so many wonderful memories of each one. All four of my sisters and brother Bill are all gone now and again I wish they each could have wrote their own blog and shared some of their own memories. The loss of my sisters and oldest brother and of course mom is kind of like losing a part of my own body and soul. "Though my body still breathe's and has life, there are parts that are now empty and void! But I don't fear dying, I fear not living each moment of each day!"

Around 1960 my oldest sister and my brother-in-law had bought this very small house for mom which had belonged to my grandfather before he died. It was a 2 car garage converted into a very small house. It had two tiny bedrooms, one larger front room which was the kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one. In one corner there was a hand pump for water with a small sink, across the room was a fuel oil burner for heat. Many cold mornings we would run out of the bedroom and get close to the heater. We heated water on the stove in order to take a bath. Across the driveway was the outhouse which I remember being tons of fun in the middle of winter! Frost bite in the winter, spiders in the summer. Playing sports along with physical-education class at school allowed me to have a nice warm shower which felt so good and so much better than bathing in a galvanized washtub. In this small house is where us 4 younger boys graduated from high school. After mom's divorce was final she was able to go on Government assistance and got a small check each month along with dental and health care. So with this small check, health care, and food commodities mom was happier and our lives improved. Mom was thankful but her desire was to someday make it on her own. And she did! I thank God our government was there at that difficult time for us. I strongly believe a government that helps take care of the least of its people, is a Godly government! Heck, a community of people that takes care of those in need is where my Lord lives! Religion is about building a bigger church, a bigger congregation, and fancier pew pads. While a simple faith in the living God moves us to lend a hand to our family, friends, neighbors, and even strangers!!

"From Mountain Top to Deep Valley"

For the fourth start year we started in a new school, this time I was in fourth grade. Our home life was much better, but school really sucked. I'm still not sure why we were looked at as outsiders, but to the other students we were. Picked on and bullied you learn to fight, or run, or avoid some people, and I guess I learned to do them all. It didn't take long for this 10 year old to get tired of fighting, running, and so I avoided school all together. Mom had only a third grade education so she couldn't help with homework and I didn't confide in her about being bullied. I failed 5th grade and things really sucked then. I hated school so much! And then one day at recess my life changed in a single moment of time. I remember as if it was yesterday. I was standing by the corner of the playground away from all the other kids and a football came rolling over to me. Some of the boys were yelling for me to throw it back and I picked it up and kicked it to them. The ball sailed over their heads and they looked back at me with shocked faces. Well in those few seconds that it took to pick up the ball and kick it I became  some kind of a hero. I was being mugged and hugged and asked to join their team. I wasn't wanted or excepted until they knew I could help their team, in many ways life hasn't changed much for kids today, and in the daily lives of so many adults. My struggles in the classroom continued, but on the athletic field I was seen as sort of a king. I was often chosen to be captain of a team and had to pick from my classmates. My days of being bullied and feeling alone must have helped me when I chose my teams. I had this classmate who was different and often would be the last one picked. Harold was smart, quite and not athletic. Another classmate, Doug, had a learning disability and was slow and awkward.  Both Harold and Doug were good sized kids so I picked them for my basketball teammates! We kicked butt and I look back with a smile on my face and even more the smile on their faces. I learned at an early age to care for the underdog because I was one. Last time I saw Harold was in 1978 at my one and only class reunion and he was well educated and working and  living  in downtown Minneapolis. I found out he was gay and now everything from our years in school made sense. Last I heard of Doug was many years ago and he was still home on his parents farm, happy and content. I now believe Doug and Harold along with many others, were lamp posts, brought into my life to shine a light on my path. Even in my deepest struggles those lamp posts from my past were shining a light on me. At times throughout my life I have wandered in the darkness, but the light, maybe only a flicker at times, was always there.

In middle school I played basketball, football, and baseball. School work remained very difficult with math being my strongest class. I was so scared to speak in front of the class and in 7th grade I started to stutter. To this very day I have moments when its difficult to speak. Basketball was my favorite sport and in my sophomore and junior years I was the leading scorer on the team. (I've attended many games as a parent and friend. I love to watch youth sports. I imagine that comes from no family member ever coming to one of  my games. I believe support and encouragement is so important to our children in all they do!) It was in the end of my junior year when things started to go sour. I started chasing with the wrong guys. Alcohol and partying started and I have many regrets from those decisions. My basketball coach, Norm Stolley, wrote me a personal letter and told me I was good enough to maybe get a 3D scholarship! But for me the partying continued and in my senior year there was no basketball. Even the cheerleaders cornered my begging for me to join the team. Shame and guilt haunts me today! Upon graduation Mrs Axum handed me my diploma and said. "We debated if we should give you this"! They did but those words still haunt me! Because of my decision, college never happened!

Next post will be more difficult. From a broken marriage to a two week stint in the psych ward!

Looking back I probably should not be here. I realize now I'm here because God wants me to be here and hopefully shed some light on abuse and mental illness!

Blessings to all who read this, Darrell   (Brother Joe)

A note to my young friends who are mom's and dad's. My faith in God is from my stepping into this awesome world of living color. I try to encourage everyone, but especially you parents to stop, step back from your busy human made schedules and walk beside your kids. Walking is just a whole better way to show God's love than just talking!

THE EARLY YEARS!

Welcome!

Most of you are much younger than I am and have many more miles to go. Over the past couple decades I've had many one on one talks and walks. I've listened and tried to shed a little light on some pressing issues others had. I found out that listening is extremely important, but if we only listen we get in real trouble. Everyone needs an avenue to share life's stories. The good but even more the bad. "ESPECIALLY MEN"! Many of us are good at burying stuff, but stink when it comes to sharing stuff! So this blog is born!

All families have ghosts hiding in their closets! Things happen that we just can't or don't want to or just plain refuse to talk about. Things go by for days, weeks, months, years. Sometimes things never get dealt with and go to the grave totally hidden forever. That's fine if it don't haunt someone. My own experience is that it is much better to expose any darkness to the light. Confessing, forgiveness, and just plain talking and sharing with someone brings some light upon any issue. My hope is to reach out and expose some of my mountain top experiences along with some deep valley's and some hidden ghosts! May my writing help and encourage others with haunting ghosts to reach out to a friend, family member, or professional! I'm no professional but I'll talk with anyone about anything just name the time!

Before I begin with the early years I want to say how much I love and how proud I am of my kids. Three awesome children and I thank my wife Betty for being so caring, and thoughtful, and such a loving mom. I believe it takes a village to raise a child, but the unconditional love of a mom is an extremely powerful force. And it lasts a lifetime! As for myself I remember making a conscious decision at the very moment the doctor held up my oldest son Adam, and as tears flowed and shock and fear set in, I promised I would always be there through hell or high water, that I would never put anything between me and my kids. I had nothing to draw from as a role model so I knew I'd make a lot of mistakes. My only thought was that I'd love my children unconditionally! My journey into fatherhood would have its ups and downs, but unconditional love would sustain me!  I learned about and felt unconditional love from my mom, that love saved my life and I knew it would carry me through all obstacles that lie ahead. I promised God and I believe God promised me he/she would always be beside me.

I was born the youngest of ten, I know my memory of childhood is different than those of my siblings. I've heard all kinds of stories from my brothers and sisters but they are just that, their stories. I will try hard to write only what I have experienced myself.

HIGH MOUNTAINS!

My earliest memories are distorted. I remember times of fun and times of joy and there were times of hell on earth. I was very fortunate to have one of God's angels for a mom. She was always there caring, loving, and trying to protect. My parents separated when I was seven and my mom moved to rural Todd county in Minnesota. I remember not having much money but mom always supplied great meals from whatever there was. Many times we ate squirrel and thought it was filet mignon! Once a month I would go with mom to the county seat for commodities. (Government surplus food), cheese, powder milk, rice, etc. I'd carry a small box and take the things I could carry while mom carried the heavier box. I remember mom being humble and grateful for these helpful food items out of which she made awesome food like homemade bread and treats. (In many ways I see that same humble and grateful spirit in the mom's we serve at Holy Rosary. For its in the preparing, serving, and breaking of bread so many lives are touched and stories told). Growing up we never had a phone until I was starting high school so family and friends would just stop in and mom always had something to serve. Homemade cookies and the coffee was always on. My love for gardening and being outside probably came from being out in the garden with mom. She would hoe, plant, water and nurture not only her garden but also me with a gentle smile and heavenly hymns like, How Great Thou Art, In the Garden, and Wings of a Dove! Mom didn't preach with words, she lived out her faith in living. She had this scent of heaven all around her. Being a small child with this amazing mom allowed me to see God's true church. ("God's church is one that loves and takes care of the orphans and widows, not just in words but in deeds"! And "whatever you do to the least of God's children you do to him/her"! And a life's lesson I live by today! "Don't store up blessings on this earth where they will rust or be stolen, but share God's blessings, and be always ready for God to ask you to share your blessings with others! Food, time, resources, everything!)  Many people helped mom in those years, each one allowing themselves to be made available for the Lord's hands and feet! Thanks and God Bless to all I remember and to so many I have never known or met! I have often wondered and prayed about those early years and why this amazing mom was tied to this uncontrollable man, My Father!

The years have a way of tempering our memories and after so many questions with no answers, I have mellowed and survived long enough to become old and gray. I now realize my father had his own ghosts chasing him. (I call him father because any man can make a baby, but it takes time, energy, devotion to be called a DAD!) While preparing to write this blog I spent many hours, days, months just writing myself notes, searching memories with my therapist, and just soul searching myself. My one regret is I wish my father could have wrote his own blog about the ghosts that chased him, maybe then I could have called him dad!

DEEP VALLEY!!

To look back on those years when I was about 3 to 7 brings so much confusion and pain. In those early years children learn so much. Reading, writing, arithmetic. They learn to share and care about others and themselves. They are also taught the most important element of life, how to Love and Trust! I didn't love or trust my father because of the abuse he put mom, me and my siblings through. I always loved mom but couldn't really trust her because as much as she wanted to, even putting herself in between me and the monster, she couldn't stop him when he was drunk and mad! Children learn to defend for themselves and build emotional walls and barriers from the world they live in. Without proper help and guidance the trauma can destroy a child's promise's and dreams and last for a lifetime. It takes a quiet ear, a keen eye, and the power of "Presence"!

We were living in New Brighten, Mn. when I started kindergarden. I don't remember having many friends and school was OK I think. It was after school that wasn't OK. Things were fine until my father came home drinking, which it seemed like every night. Memories of mom yelling to us kids to go hide because dad was home drunk. I'd run into our bedroom and crawl under the bed to the farthest corner and wait and pray he didn't find me! At times he did, and TERRIFIED is the only word I can think of. Mom's screams and things being broken echoed in my ears, and then silence. I believe to this day I was conceived out of rape. To this very day I'd do anything I can to help an abused mom, for those memories are burned into my soul like a branding iron!

My parents were out shopping one evening and us boys were out in the yard playing football. Well I got tackled and broke my collar bone and I went in the house feeling ill and not sure what happened to me. I remember when my father got home from shopping he was so angry I had got hurt he walked right up to me and lifted me out of the chair by the front of my shirt and shook the hell out of me. I don't remember how much it hurt, all I remember is being TERRIFIED! I wish I could think of one good experience about my father from my early years, but I can't. It bothers me I can't even think of one hug, maybe that's why a hug is extremely important to me. A hug for me is my way of showing unconditional love to all God brings into my life. Some men are taken back by my direct hug and I've been told a few times that I was the first man to ever give them a hug. Your never to old to show God's amazing love with a hug, especially for our boys!

At the time my father had a good job and so he bought a new 55 oldsmobile. He came home late one night and parked the car in the garage and a short time later the garage and house were on fire. To this day I have no idea what happened, maybe drunk and smoking! I can still smell the smoke scorched walls. A short time later I believe he lost his job and our house to drinking and he moved to Florida around 1956 or 1957. That's when mom and us kids moved North to Todd County, MN. We lived in a small country house with only a wood stove to heat and cook with. Squirrel is served! Every house we lived in then had no running water and no bathroom. Outhouse was it! Spiders in the summer and FROST in the winter! We had this black and white T.V. but the area we moved to had no T.V. stations. I remember sitting around that T.V. when channel 7 from Alexandria, MN first came on. Cartoons!! Saturday mornings were never the same again. My older brother Jerry and I would walk into the woods, Jerry with a single shot 22 rifle and I carrying a burlap bag. The bag often became so full of squirrels that it seemed about impossible to carry. Those days were filled with good memories of hunting and chasing around in the woods. Then our drunken father showed up again and hell was back. One night he came home drunk and mad and knocked mom down on the floor with his fist and dragged her across the room by her hair. Pulling out handful's. He picked up a wooden chair and was about to hit her with it when my brother Jerry, about 15 at the time, stood between mom and the madman. Our mom tried so hard to protect her kids but couldn't, I'm just very grateful Jerry was there to stop the madman! Thanks Jerry, I've never forgotten that moment. Again our father disappeared and with the help of my sisters mom filed for divorce.

A side note that relates from my past to today is health and dental care. My mom's teeth were rooted off at the gum line and she had so many toothaches she would pack them with aspirin to stop the pain. I was 13 when I first went to the dentist. Dr. Larson in Eagle Bend, Mn. I remember it very well. My teeth were so bad and he was so angry he just screamed at my mom about not taking care of our teeth. 3 appointments later he had pulled most of my molars. Health care wise, I was the only one out of ten kids that was born in the hospital and I can't remember ever having a checkup of any sorts until I started playing sports in school. Until mom got divorced there was no health or dental care and after her divorce we went on government assistance. Mom got dentures and I had my teeth fixed and all was much better. Health care then was a privilege for the haves and blessed. I now have great insurance and I am so blessed and thankful. But that's just bull-shit! I came from no care to total care because I was privileged to have a good job with benefits. That's bull-shit to! Health care should never be a privilege, health care is a God giving right for all of God's people. Rich, poor, black, white, christian, muslim, man, woman, old, young, EVERYONE!!!!

HIGH MOUNTAIN

We again moved to another small country house that wasn't fit to be lived in. I remember looking out between the ceiling and chimney and seeing daylight. It was so cold that in the morning we had to break ice off the top of the water bucket in order to get a drink. We slept two to a bed in order to stay warm. Mom slept by the wood stove and got up at night to stoke the fire so it wouldn't go out. I was in third grade and my brothers and I walked a mile and a half to this one room school house with only one teacher. Mrs. Laclair was a kind and gentle soul and she taught all classes alone. I think the grades were K thru 6.Classes were very small with only one or two students in some classes. A fond memory at this school was the big wood burning stove used to heat the building. We were allowed to bring a hotdog wrapped in aluminum foil and place it on top of the stove so it was nice and hot for lunch. The aroma of cooking hotdogs filled the room, a wonderful memory that has stayed with me all these years.
 Our house was by a small pond and as boys we loved to mess around by it. One fall day when it was cold enough to form a thin sheet of ice on it, brother Lyle and I were running back and forth across it and as the ice moved and swayed from our weight, it suddenly broke and down we went. Up to my neck in freezing cold water. Slipping and sliding I finally got traction enough to get out and ran home. Its my earliest memory of being touched by an angel. Maybe pushed is more accurate! My clothes were frozen stiff and so was I! We were always looking for adventure and one day we made a parachute out of a burlap sack and as I was the youngest and smallest, guess who jumped out of the hayloft and nearly broke his neck. I did have my share of broken bones, one arm and collar bones three times. All before I was 10. Many other events confirms in my soul that I had a guardian angel watching over me! Again I fondly remember living in that old country house, our father wasn't around anymore to beat on mom or us kids. I'm sure it was very difficult for mom but she made the most out of the little she had. Then we moved into the small rural town of Clarissa, population 500! I thought we were in New York City! A Variety Store, a drug store with a soda counter where they made real cherry-cokes, 2 small restaurants, and even a movie theater! I remember going to a movie for what I believe was 25 cents. 15 cents for the ticket, and 5 cents for pop and five cents for a candy bar! But the peace and calm wouldn't last long, not in a small rural town where it seemed we were seen as outsiders, from the wrong side of the tracks, and being from a broken home. In the 50's not many women got divorced, quit a stigma about divorce back then and also no real opportunities to leave. Even today some women have a hell of a time just trying to keep their families safe, staying in an abused situation because like my mom they are often uneducated, oppressed, and enslaved! I believe with all my heart, (To change the World, Empower the Women)! Next post will be my teen years. Bullied to Hero to Stupidity!

Blessings to all who read this! Darrell    (Brother Joe)

For my young family members and friends: Please don't be afraid of this amazing world, Step into it with an open mind and open heart and let God touch you each in your own way! For everything you know has been taught, we own no truths of our own unless we take what we were taught and put them to the test! Religion is taught faith, an owned faith is one that's been tested and found true! Faith isn't the words we say, its the steps we walk! Love, laugh, and enjoy God's awesome world of living color!