9/12/2023 0 Comments Darkest of days crackIt’s the only thing we have real control over….our thoughts. I teach them that this is their light and THEY have control over it. They can only create change in their own head. I see children everyday that can not create change in their own household. I woke up in the morning with the belief that I could be positive enough to change my world and other’s. I was skill building, and I was completely unaware. What was the mood in the house, what would my day look like and what skills did I have to effect that? We both knew she didn’t, but at eight years old, I provided hope. “Well, you guys do argue a whole lot”….and “ how would you support us”? I remember helping her to decide what she might want to do for a living if she had the choice. But not that day….that day, I channeled my very best inner counselor and discussed what my Mom should do. I would later write a speech on this very thing. ![]() I remember the quote that I focused on was “Children Learn What They Live” by Erica Jong. My gaze was set on the quote hanging in her room. This was set in stone at eight years old, when my Mom asked me if she should divorce my Dad. I knew this at six years old as much as I knew that I loved Snoopy’s girlfriend Belle the very most in the Peanut series. I grew in my assuredness that I had the ability to help my mom through these tough times. A joke could make it in, but it might not create lasting happiness for the night. Her eyes were softer during these moments. I learned what her face looked like if a utility had been shut off. This meant my jokes might not work….wiser to go the compliment route. There was a difference you know……more anger was bubbling to the surface, masking fear. I learned what her face looked like if my dad had lost his job. She said I was always there to be positive or make her laugh. I would crack a joke, or compliment my mom in some way to help her find her smile again. ![]() The corners of her mouth pulled downward, as if she would never smile again. Bags beginning to form with lack of sleep. There was a look to her face when a grenade had been thrown into our home. There were no lights on in the house, and I could tell by the draw in my Mom’s face that something was wrong. My Mom was heating water on the stove for my bath that night. I ran in the door, letting it slam behind me.
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