I am a writer sometimes poet traveling a gravel road barefoot and hungry. I was born and raised in Colorado. Raised by my fathers parents along with two of my brothers an uncle and an aunt that were still at home at that time. We suffered dearly through horrific mental and sexual abuse except by our gram, she did her best to protect us and taught us that there is love in the world and we had some value. She also gave us our religious teachings which I am grateful for, can’t say for my two brothers.
Our mother returned for us when I was just turning 12 she had a new family and needed a babysitter, my brothers were just the extra baggage that had to be taken as well. Years passed and I never thought a thought of my own just let others make decisions for me , I am very lucky for some of the situations I put myself in were extremely dangerous, guess God was looking out for me. Anyway I married and divorced three times but had three beautiful daughters of which I am extremely proud.
Of the three marriages, one ended due to extreme physical and emotional abuse which is when as they say now “I pulled up my big girl panties” and got a back bone, my children were placed in a home while I was in hospital for three weeks with the last beating. By the guidance and blessings of the mother-in-law I had at that time, I obtained a GED (General Education Diploma), my first driver’s license at the age of 27, and a start on a college education. That ended abruptly with the divorce that took four years and a custody battle over my youngest that lasted 19 years.
I met my present husband in 1984, coming into it with the baggage of abandonment, sexual and physical abuse issues and custody battles . In 1987 the soon to be hubs decided I was worth keeping and married me in a civil ceremony, I have since tried to nominate him for Sainthood but they say he has to do miracles and die first well the miracle is he loves me and I can’t let him die!
In 2011 tragedy struck when my first-born daughter at the age of forty-one was murdered by her significant other after eleven years together. I am to this day lost and so grief-stricken I don’t believe I will ever recover from it and it has taken all I have to forgive the man who took her life but I had to forgive him to be forgiven… A dear friend/poet/author/photographer encouraged me to try writing poetry. I found I CAN NOT write poetry but I can tell a short story or two and so that is what I am doing. My stories are some true, not exactly true and some just my imagination, I have no formal education in writing heck I barely speak proper English let alone write it, I do not understand punctuation orits use, I can barely spell anymore and don’t remember verbs adverbs and all that . They say I suffer a form of PSTD and I suppose I do, along with all that entails, so I forget very easily and memorization is long gone.
Having said all that I would appreciate your reading and if it appeals follow, feel free to give comments but please remember I am of fragile mind (LOL) but I do take constructive critique well just don’t use the 25 cent college words 10 cent ones are all I understand! LOL Have a glorious, blessed, beautiful day. ~Len
As you read the things I write keep in mind that I am a basket case most days but always a woman of strength and introspective of life and most of all I have learned to survive, love and forgive others,
most of all I have found forgiveness of myself. God bless and keep you. I hope you find it in your hearts to follow my blog and feel free to comment. ~~Len Williams Carver
A bit more about me (always our favorite subject, right?) We all love to talk about ourselves to some extent hope this isn’t overload for you.
Ten years ago on January 13, 2003 I suffered a myocardial infarction (MI), a heart attack of great proportion. This is how and what transpired…
My next to the youngest grandson Eric Jason, two months and eight days old son of my next to youngest daughter was the first of my grandsons I had ever been blessed to see born and what a magnificent appreciation of life insight that brought to this old woman! Oops sorry, I digress…
I had a rare day off that cold January day so I arose early did what chores that were of necessity only, as it was a day to spend with my beautiful daughter and new grandson. I drove to my daughters home and was having a wonderful visit but felt after a while that her home was just too hot or perhaps I had layered up too much. Removing my pullover sweater I still had my shirt and chemise and the shirt was long-sleeved. After a few moments, I began to just feel off kilter a bit but thought it might be again the heat and perhaps a little anxiety. In trying to make myself feel better I told my daughter I was going to step outside to get some air, as I got to the front porch I sat down on a step and leaned against a wrought iron railing. The blessed coolness felt wonderful and my head was beginning to clear when I began to feel extremely weak and both my arms were getting heavy, to the point of feeling as if they were going to fall off my shoulders, then just pure numbness.
As my daughter opened her door to check on me I stated: “ Maybe you had better call your sister and have her come drive me home, I don’t think I can do it.” Where the words came from I will never know only that I said: “Never mind, I think you better take me to hospital.”
I did not know what made me say those words; I was never much of a doctor or hospital person prior to this time. (I now believe it was the Lord guiding my words).
Somehow she managed to bundle up the boy, herself and me pile us into the Jimmy and drive me the twenty-five miles to hospital, somewhere along the way I began to lose consciousness, in and out as we traveled the highway but do remember her saying “There is Andrea”, (my youngest) she lead the way from that point on to the hospital I am told.
Arriving at the hospital, I vaguely remember seeing my husband and telling each of them I loved them as I was rushed to a bed and there were a massive amount of people around me doing all kinds of things and asking so many questions and for some reason I kept telling them to not forget my contacts, what I wanted them to do with my contacts or why I again don’t know. Then suddenly I heard “get them out we are losing her” and I remember nothing until waking up in a hospital room with my husband and a doctor standing at the end of my bed talking. Once they realized I was awake the hubs quickly came to my side with tears in his eyes and taking my head he just looked at me and with more emotion than I had ever heard before but fortunately heard many times since he told me how much he loved me and that I scared him. Then the doctor spoke up saying “Mrs. Carver you have had a major heart attack, you will be fine but you must quit smoking, you were blocked 99% in one artery and 95% in the other. You have a couple of small arteries that have grown like offshoots to compensate for the blockage and you are fortunate that you were brought in or you would not have survived.”
Wow! Not exactly what I was expecting, but not one Marlboro or any other tobacco product has since touched these lips. No wait, not true, after I had been home about three months I found an old package of Marlboros in an old purse and went out on the deck lit up and immediately started coughing and it tasted horrible!
I stayed in the hospital a week and the day before coming home I suffered another heart attack and a week later another, with the result that fifty percent of my heart is severely damaged.
I came home after a time and felt so blessed my daughters had cleaned everything from top to bottom, there was not an ashtray or lighter anywhere. The house smelled so clean and fresh, not that I smoked very often in the house but late at night or when cold I admit to doing so. A forty year pack and a half a day habit overcome and I was quite happy about it for I had tried throughout the years to quit to no avail. I had always said ‘if they had a thirty-day rehab center like they do for drugs and alcohol then maybe I could quit. Truth told I enjoyed smoking and miss not the taste or smell but that feeling of relaxation achieved at the times I smoked a cigarette.
The first month home I realized my strength and stamina were greatly deficient compared to ‘before’. I will admit to feeling very lost with what to do with myself I faced depression to an extent never felt before, I also faced my mortality; that I could have died. Had it not been for my Dusti~ Jean driving me I would have/could have died right there on her porch, in the car, at the hospital! To never see my family again to not be able to see my grandsons again,
To never know whether my youngest would ever be well and happy, to never spend another day with my best friend, love of my life, the hubs the man who saved me from a whole other way of life!
Lord, I should have been on my knees thanking You but no I just spiraled further into the pits of depression. Not to mention I couldn’t go back to work yet and I had finally made it to the upper management position I had worked so hard for and was really settling in and loving it.
I was so lost and depressed and no one person in the medical field told me I would go through such or that I would have that moment where the enormity of what I had been through would hit me and knock me to my knees. No one ever said you have had a real brush with death with the exception of the cardiologist that first day hours after surgery where in my drug induced state I don’t believe I comprehended the situation.
I have in the past ten years come to realize how close to death I came and now suffer great anxiety when my heart starts acting up. I have six stents in my arteries and in all honesty, should have had bypass surgery as told by the last two cardiologists seen. I am now in congestive heart failure, with me thinking this is it; I am going now on many occasions. But circumstances again change…
I am no longer afraid of dying from heart failure as I have been diagnosed with COPD/Emphysema (5 years ago) and know that it will kill me in a horribly painful way.
The inability to get a breath of any magnitude will eventually just be my undoing, I am terrified of going that way but it is the way of things and I am learning to accept that it doesn’t matter how I go. What matters is the pain my family will suffer I wish to cause them not that grief and sense of loss (presumptuous to assume they will) ha.
But God has seen fit to leave me here a while longer for what purpose I do not know I am grateful for each and every moment and try my best to make each one count. I pray to be a more loving, accepting person, a woman with love in her heart instead of sickness physically and emotionally. I am finding each day a peace in my life an acceptance of myself for all I have been through in these sixty-one years and survived. I am blessed with life be it good or bad, relationships healed or broken, lessons learned some ignored. I am growing in my walk and love of Christ and thank Him constantly for my many blessings.
I don’t know if it is the plan or purpose to have a total contentment and peace in this life of mine, I only know that each person I come into contact with outside of my home, in this world of blogging, in church wherever has made an impact and helped me to grow to where I am today, I finally feel worthy of being here and to my daughters thank you for saving my life that fateful day. To my Lord, praise, and glory every moment. To my many friends here and out in the ‘real’ world thank you it is but two little words but your friendship, understanding, love, and support throughout all has been a true blessing and I can only hope I am as much for each of you. ~~Len
Not sure what has me thinking so hard on my mother but she has been on my mind for days.
Gone since 2007, these questions still haunt me.
Questions I Wish I Would Have Asked My Mother
I found letters written back and forth.
Why did you choose men over your children?
I almost did the same but I remembered
How much it hurt, how it broke my heart
As your men broke my bones, my bit of self-esteem
Why did you break your promises?
That first one when you said you would be back
In a couple of hours but it was a life time of
years and pain and hurt and tears.
Why weren’t you there for me?
When I was sick with fever and pain
When I cried at night as he came again
Where were you Mother when I needed
your rescue and loving touch?
Why did you not see the hurt inside of me
When I was scared, when I cried your name
Where were you when I needed your help?
I needed my mother not my grandmother
Though she gave me more love in one day
Than you did and she was one to stay.
Where were you when I needed my mother?
What happened to make you hate your children so?
Were we not important to you did you hate us
Now you are gone and hard as I try I still
Feel the need for your love, I regret the
Life I had with you, for it scared me, deeply
So deep that I did not know how to be
a better mother to my daughters three.
But at least I tried and I loved and protected
with all that was in me.
Was it too much to ask that as my mother
- me at about 7
You do the same for me?
The call came early in the morning, Dad had fallen and had a heart attack, and he had been left alone in the restroom for nearly an hour and a half. He tried to get back to his wheelchair by himself and knowing the stubbornness and quick level of frustration he could exhibit, I am sure he was really stressed and probably in his mind cursing the person that left him there, the consequences of the incompetence of the person that was to help him and that stress caused him to die on that bathroom floor. They said the EMT’s revived him there and again in the ambulance, but just before arriving at the hospital he was gone again.
The call was unexpected, he had been doing well I was told in my weekly call just a few days before to the facility. I called at the least once a week, but when really missing my Dad I would call more often. It hurt me that I could not be there with him but living over six hundred miles away and just having had heart surgery I could not yet travel. I know that he probably wondered why I wasn’t visiting twice a month as I had been, I wrote letters and sent cards, clothing and just that month for his birthday had sent him a transistor radio so he could listen to his ball games (do you know how hard it was to find a transistor radio in this day and age of technology?), and a new set of magnetic alphabet and numbers for his cookie sheet. Dad had his Larynx removed several years before due to cancer and could no longer speak and refused adamantly I might add to use the device given to him to help him speak, he could be
so darn stubborn, so he used the device I improvised for him to communicate. He once requested a ‘m.f.’ from the CAN and she thought he was calling her a name when what he wanted was another muffin served at breakfast.
After giving permission for the hospital staff to take him off life support and making arrangements with the funeral home that day, I collapsed and went into a depression even more so than before; remember I had faced my own mortality with my own heart condition. I never even thought about my father’s belongings at the facility I could not care less about them I was grieving the first man to ever love me, my Daddy.
It wasn’t but a few days later I received a package in the mail, it was my father’s ashes, death certificate and what he had with him at the time of cremation. Inside the envelope with all the legal paperwork was a much smaller envelope, sealed, when I opened it my heart leapt to my throat and I then began to sob uncontrollably for there was the 14 kt gold cross with the emerald (our birthstone) in the center that I had given him for his 60th birthday, he was 72 when he passed. I had not seen him wearing it and had actually figured he pawned it or was stolen from him when he was out drinking. To think that he still had it and was wearing it meant so much to me, I have it put away to give my grandson Eric someday, he never knew his great grandpa but I wish to tell him about the man that loved me unconditionally and taught me to swing a hammer, tell a 2×4 from a 2×6, although he could not teach me how to read a tape measure LOL.
MY DAUGHTER DUSTI JEAN IS BEAUTIFUL (OF COURSE I THINK THIS )
SHE HAS A HEART THAT IS SOFT AND TENDER
NARY A BAD WORD ABOUT HER FRIENDS AND MOST FAMILY
SHE HAS CHILDHOOD FRIENDS OF EVERY GENDER
NONE ARE JEALOUS OF THE OTHER FOR THEY ALL
KNOW MY DUSTI JEAN AS AN EARTH MOTHER
SHE KNOWS HER HERBS AND POTIONS TOO
TRAINED IN MEDS AND NATURAL BREWS
SHE IS THE FIRST WITH THE CHICKEN SOUP
KLEENEX AND POULTICE THAT WILL THROW
YOU INTO A GET WELL LOOP
SHE SPENDS TOO MUCH TIME TAKING CARE OF OTHERS
FORGETS CARING FOR HERSELF BUT NEVER FORGETS
HER SON AND ALL HIS WANT TO DO DRUTHERS
I AM SO PROUD TO CALL HER MY DAUGHTER
SHE MAY MAKE ME MAD AND I WILL HOLLER
BUT IN THE END SHE IS MY DAUGHTER
AND SHE HAS ACCOMPLISHED MUCH
I HAVE ADMIRED HER FOR MANY YEARS FOR SHE
HAS TAUGHT HER MOMMA MUCH
MOST OF ALL SHE HAS A HEART YOU CAN TOUCH
SHE HAS TAUGHT ME PATIENCE AND ACCEPTANCE
OF THOSE THAT LOOK DIFFERENT
SHE HAS TAUGHT ME NOT TO BE SO JUDGEMENTAL
TO LOOK BEYOND THE OUTER APPEARANCE AND SEE THE HEART
SHE HAS BROUGHT JOY TO MY LIFE
ENDURED MORE SORROWS THAN SHE SHOULD
Attended g-son’s Christmas Program last night just so proud of him and his ability, he takes his music quite seriously and pride in his accomplishments with each instrument he plays (piano, drums, guitar and violin). I did think he was going to slide his bow right across the face pf the little girl next to him though LOL.
I am immensely proud of this ten year old and the way his mother is raising him with every opportunity she can afford not just in music but sports, defense training, scouts, art etc. She does without for herself to provide for him and as it should be just wish she would let us help a bit more, we don’t have much but we are willing; guess all we can do is continue to support them with love, and be proud of both.
There are few words to describe
how you have touched my heart
Nor will you ever understand how
You made me change who I am
I tried to tell you how special you are
How smart and handsome too.
I don’t think you can comprehend
how you healed my broken heart
made dreams come true, became my friend
You opened my heart to wonders forgotten
with love before unknown
You are so special to me Eric
And I hope you know without you
I don’t know what I would do
Having you in my life is such a blessing
that fills my heart with joy true.
I love you my wonderful grandson
Colors of my world are full of joy and sunshine
Just the thought of you makes me grin
You color my world bright like a box of 64
walking into a room with your bright smile
and flashing blue eyes …it makes my world right
You color my world with how smart you are
How wise and thoughtful too
Just like your Grammie, Grammie just like you.
We are supposed to love, says the Lords word
We don’t always like but we are to love
You color my world with joy and love
When you say I love you Gram and give a big hug
You color my world like a giant rainbow
Because I love you and you love me too!
ABSOLUTE TERROR~ OCT. 2013
Very impressed with g-sons school and neighborhood response..g-son did not arrive home from school at regular time so Pap went looking for him to no avail. Went to school asked if he was there “no he was seen walking away from school” Next thing I know half the neighborhood is out looking for the kid with red tennis shoes they see go by everyday and the principle and teachers are driving neighborhood. Called daughter she has no idea and says she will call fiancee. Guess who picked him up? thats right the fiancee but I’m not supposed to be upset scared or shouting when I asked fiancee why didn’t he call me and next time he scared me that bad i’d sock him I am told it’s none of my business what he does and he is a grown man that is his son and he can do what he wants and he’s safe and a few other words. I told him he is a selfish coward and a few other choice things and I don’t care right or wrong I am tired of him showing no respect to me, my daughter or my g-son. Do you think I was right in doing/saying what I did. I mean I am an emotional person and was terrified with all the perverts out there.
Hard to look at this old photo and think how happy we all were to be in our Easter finery,
On our way to church as a family. Now the oldest is gone to heaven, the youngest in her own
private hell, middle one doing so well and I used to be that young and skinny.
this photo in Kansas city, Ks when we lived on Ella Avenue, Easter Sunday 1981
Left to right, back to front: