We can be better than our past

I grew up in a world where one parent was angry, and the other was submissive. I grew up in fear. My mother constantly being beaten and my father blaming her for his anger. She now resides with me.

I have an older sister and an older brother; I have a brother born after me who did not make it because the doctors cut his umbilical cord too short and killed him (I can say this because I am in possession of his death certificate) and a younger brother who now lives with me as well.

We were estranged from the rest of the family. Nobody liked my dad. So, we lived in isolation, suffering in silence. My older sister caught hell because she was not his biological child. My brother was a boy so he could throw him around; in later years choking him to the point of unconsciousness. Myself I was the problem child. In later years it was my younger brother who he focused his anger on, treating him as if he was a burden and ignoring him at every turn.

I was the only person in that house that had my mother's back. I was the only one willing to step up to him. Though the sad thing is that even though we lived through all that, I still love him. I hate myself. My heart hurts. I don't understand why we were not enough. And for my poor baby brother,

No birthdays, No holidays, no love, nothing…

I was unaware of the extent of my brother's treatment, had I known he would have been with me a lot sooner. I know that I myself had to jump out of moving vehicles to get away from my dad but had hoped that in later years his anger would subside. I WAS WRONG!

Now I get to live with knowing that I had started my family and was forced to walk away for their benefit. I had to leave my little brother in the hands of that man. My mother could not protect him.

Before I could get to them my brother was sitting next to my mother in the ICU. Come to find out, it was the 3rd time. Enough was enough! I grabbed my mother and my brother up and moved them in with me, since I was stable enough. This was 12 years later.

While in Eastern Washington I met and adopted a man that I called dad. Though I only had him for a short time, our connection was undeniable. He immediately loved me and I him. My kids were instantly his grand babies. He did not care for my Childrens father, but he loved us. Even going as far as buying My oldest a month older birthday presents every month until her birthday/Christmas.

Now there had been little communication in that time. We had spoken on the phone and had a few visits, but I had moved to eastern Washington and was no longer in a day trip driving distance for the first years of my daughters' lives. I moved closer to them when my youngest was almost a year old because the man I had adopted to be my dad Bradley Joseph Holden had passed from lung cancer.

I feel him with me every day. I felt him with me on the way home from the hospital the day I had to make the choice to turn off his life support. That was a hard day. To feel like I was the one playing God. A position I never wish upon anyone. Its heavy, like a weighted blanket being layered over your soul. I was angry at God. But I could smell dad in the air, and I could heel his hand on my shoulder. Sometimes I still hear him call my name. Not as much as I used to but once in a while when it can catch me off guard. He lets me know he is still here.

I’m not going to lie I wanted revenge on God…as funny as that might sound. I wanted to hurt him like I felt he had hurt me.

I lived in a tiny town with one very old church. It was there since the beginning of the town. Had it not been for Brad I would have never started going to church again. I had believed that God had forgotten about me or that I had done something so cruel that I deserved it. Weather in this life or a past life and that's why I suffered. I gathered the things I felt I needed (A lighter, lighter fluid, paper towels) and headed to the church. I was going to burn it to the ground.

I arrived quickly to the church since it was a small town. I stood there and I stood there. I breathed deeply to keep myself from the uncontrollable crying. I Just stared at the closed doors as memories of this sweet, sweet man filled my brain. All the love he gave me and my girls. His smile and his smell, or even his bear hugs. How everyone called him grandpa. His bible, that I keep with me now. I covered my face and fell to my knees crying hysterically and that's where I sat for a good half hour hyperventilating. I couldn't do it. I knew better. I just wanted to feel better. I wanted to hug him one more time and I wanted to tell him sorry for being the one to end his life.

I just wanted the only man on the planet who I felt truly loved me for me. Not for what I had to offer. Not for the way I looked. Not to be an object of someone's desire. He was what I believed a dad should be. He gave me standard to set. Someone to compare others to when it came to how I wanted to be treated. He gave me love. Teaching me how we should be to one another. Not that my mother didn't give me love but as far as a man was concerned.

After moving into an area closer to the Seattle side of Washington, I met a man who I married. Not for love but to prove a point. This was a bad relationship. Nobody in my eyes could come close to my dad. I ran across the water to a different area to get away from this man to which he later followed. I could not afford much. I had my girls' grandfather on their dads' side look at cheap trailers, telling me he found one that was suitable. When I got here the trailers pervious tenants had been evicted. To get back at the owner they had stripped the trailer of everything. I had to go on Facebook market to buy a fridge, stove, dishwasher, a fireplace that I refurbished, repaired holes in the floor and had to beg for wood to keep my family warm since I was sold a trailer that had been stripped of insulation. I had a lot of work to do and myself and my daughters had to live in a tent outside all summer just to be able to move in.

I tried to get help with a go fund me, but nobody would help. I got lots of comments telling me that it was up to my landlord to take care of it, but they said that everything above the ground was my responsibility. I felt overwhelmed. I tried to get rental assistance and was refused on multiple occasions. Weatherization program, nope. I felt stuck. How could I climb out of this whole that I found myself in.

I started working at Albertsons. Thats where I met my now husband. He walked in about a year after I first started. I didn't think too much about it as I had no trust for the opposite sex. Just another customer, he pretended to not know anything about the deli meats, the man is Italian…. he was playing dumb to get my attention. Later telling me that he fell in love with my giggle. A man that reminded me of my adopted dad in every way. Someone that despite being worried he intrigued me. If it weren't for him, I couldn't have been in a place to help my mother and brother.

He is smart and kind. He is funny and sensitive. He is a former parametric with trauma so he can understand and empathize with ours. I love him more than words can say. I somehow felt drawn to him. Now I believe that my dad sent him to me from above. He didn't want me to be alone and knew I had given up on true love. My husband Robert Joseph Compo is my best friend, he is my soul journey partner, my savior on earth, and the love of my life. I don't know where I would be without him.

Now I pose a question to all of you. Where has all the love gone? I know that there are so many people out there facing their own struggles in life. I believe personally that I was broken so that I may shine. Like a glow stick. Until I was broken, I couldn't reach my full potential because I didn't know I had it in me. What do you believe? Are you being broken so you may shine? Did you reach a place in your life where you were done crawling on the floor and were ready to reach for that hand being held out for you? I had to wait until I was ready, or I could not have really respected the gifts given to me from above. I would really love your feedback.