Saturday, July 11, 2020



When Adult Children Aren't




          I have thought that hell on earth for me began on December 15, 2008 when the truth hit me that not only was my daughter not engaged to prince charming, he was in fact,  the spawn of Satan.   This man had such evil intentions behind everything he did.  He lied about everything, and he manipulated my daughter to hate her own family, leave ALL her old friends behind, and become the one who worshiped the ground he walked on.   We lost her for SEVEN horrendous years, but, that was Humpty Dumpty's great fall, as far as I could see.  I needed to be pushed off my pious sanctimonious wall and broken in a million pieces so that all the king's men and all the king's horses couldn't put me together again.  To this day, the King  of Kings is still picking up some of the broken pieces and super-gluing them back on me.  Yes, we lost countless memories we could have made, but we are making better ones now, because I am a different person, and so is she.  It’s that verse, again, the one I can’t stand, Romans 8:28, which everyone uses with a bad thing has happened.  You won’t find too many people using it for anything other than comfort for the bottom falling out on us in one way or another.   

      Ever since my children were able to talk, I would tell them the evils of family estrangement.  Our family has been irreparably damaged by it, and I mean irreparably, because some of the perpetrators of such an evil thing are dead, and some of the victims of such and evil thing are dead, and those years can never be made up for, or recaptured.  I have been on every side of that miserable fence. My hell on earth began all the way back in 1978, not 2008.   I’ve been the daughter, the sister, the grand-daughter, the mother, grandmother, and according to some manipulative adult children that are not, I’m the cause of it for a family “across the pond” 9,000 miles away of whom I’ve never even met, let alone sat in their presence.  Of course, I refuse to take responsibility for adult (and I use that term loosely)  children who truly are not being adults, but rather spoiled, manipulative, demanding, controlling, dishonoring, disrespectful, and downright evil to get what they want, and that is total control over their incapacitated suffering mother.  They  treat their beloved mother as if she was their child, and they were going to brainwash her to think, feel and do just as they say.  I’ve never met these “adult” CHILDREN actually, but I know their mother and she has my sympathy. We were goods friends to her childen's dismay.  I use the word WERE, because they got exactly what they wanted.  They've done it to her with all her friends.  They do not want her to have friends, they want to keep her emotionally imprisoned, dependent only on them for any kind of relationship.  If I could get on a plane and bear 9 hours over an ocean, I surely would and I’d bring my rod of correction and help their father make up for LOST time.  

     
   I know what it’s like to be brainwashed by a family member, and in my case it was my mother.  Out of the six of us, I was the first one to break free, and I re-established bonds with my beloved brother, father and the dearest person in my life, my rock, (Because Allen means stone) my Nana.   My mother trained us to believe that our father was a snake in the grass that even Satan did not dare go near, thus if we did we’d be kicked out of the house and never let back in.  When you are 9 years old, or even 15 years old, you believe a mother who had threatened that for years.  

     She hated my father with a passion, and she was going to get back at him by taking his children away from him.  I’m not so sure that she wanted to hurt him by denying access to us for him, BUT, she wanted revenge by teaching and FORCING us to hate him, and lie to the courts and social  workers when he put up the measliest of fights to get visitation.  When he saw he couldn’t beat my mother at her evil twisted manipulations, he gave up and just assumed that when we were all adults, we would see what my mother did, the lies she told, and we would return to him.  BIG MISTAKE! 

      My mother wasn’t satisfied to do irreparable damage to my father and our relationship with him, but she went after his mother, my dearly beloved Nana.  She was going to find the measliest reason to hate the woman who was better to her than her own mother, and do serious collateral damage to her, also. (No pun intended, well, maybe intended a little)  The thing that sunk and ended that relationship permanently  was when my grandparent’s tried to recoup some of  the several THOUSANDS of dollars they loaned my father to get him out of bankruptcy, and keep us children from losing the house and ending up on the street.  My grandparents saved our home, but because they wanted some of the money back, in lieu of a lien on the house, or because Nana would not ban her own some from her own home, and take my mother’s side, swearing undue allegiance, that was all my mother needed to empty the half-filled glass of love, the only one we were getting at the time from the only source.  In my eyes and heart, she did  the most EVIL thing any “adult” CHILD can do, and that is to weaponize one's children for revenge, by stripping my grandparents from any contact with us.  

   
   
    The year was 1978, and not only did I lose my father and was not allowed to have any contact, but my mother took from me the only thing and place I ever felt happy, and that was at Nana’s house.  Back then, there were no cell-phones for children, it was AT & T, and long distance was just two towns away, and we were not allowed to call them, nor were they allowed to call us. That meant no birthdays, no holidays, no summers of pure bliss at Nana and Grampie’s, no visits to or from them.  It was FOUR years of hell with my mother, and no place to escape, and no loving Nana who always made us feel loved and secure.  I don’t know who it crushed more, us or our grandparents.  I’m going to have to lean on it crushing them, more, because when we were old enough, and our mother could not legally control us and with whom we spent our time, or at least I thought. The echoes of her hatred played like a broken record in the rest of my siblings hearts and minds permanetly. 

   
      The power of manipulative controlling brainwashing is so much stronger in compliant humans than it is in us rebel firecrackers.  So, as a writer of a wonderful fiction story GOD had given me seven years ago, about this very subject, broken hearts, I put my Nana in the pages of my favorite book, the book about redemption.  That way, when I am long gone, and when my siblings are gone, my Nana will be imortal down here, lving and loving and healing broken hearts in a place that has no end, and a story that does not end sad, if I have anything to say about it.   

        In 1980,  when my brother married a less than stellar young college co-ed, in my mother’s eyes only, she just pulled out her old bag of tricks and did the same thing to my eldest brother.  No one was allowed any contact, and he was banned from the family.    In 1981, when I finally hit 18 and I got my own vehicle, the very first place I went to was my Nana’s to bask in the love there.  When I went off to college, weekends home meant weekends at Nana’s sleeping on the couch or the 3-seasoned porch and lots of Johnny Carson with my beloved Grampie.  Nana was an early riser, and Gramps’ eyes never opened before the noon day meal, which was breakfast for him.  Those two were my most treasured family members, and those college years with them were the best.  I had a boyfriend who told me how sick he was to going to my Nana’s all the time, but I told him that I had to make up for lost time.  Turns out that darling young man turned to my Nana when I broke up with him, hoping she could talk me into going back with him, the basis for my favorite chapter in book 3.  He was good boy, and I was sick of being a good girl.  I was young and I wanted to party like my other college friends.  

   

    Sadly, the only two of the six that reconciled with my Nana and Gramps, was my eldest brother and me when my mother threw him out of the family.  The others remained disgustingly loyal to a lie and an evil manipulation.  They said that they wanted to go see Nana and Gramps, but they heard my mother’s voice in their heads, and they felt terribly guilty in their presence, as if they were stabbing our mother in the back.  She deserved it for what she did to us.  Eventually, when I married and became pregnant with my first child, the first grandchild on both sides, I decided that my child would have ALL its grandparents and great-grandparents, which meant reconciling with my dad. I will admit that was difficult, UNTIL I learned all the lies we were told  were my mother’s fictional tale, and not nearly the truth. You know in a divorce, there’s his side, her side, the kids’ side and then there’s the truth which no one really knows except GOD.  That’s why He hates divorce, not because He hates divorced people, but He hates the irreparable damage it does to people, the people and children He loves so dearly.  

         So, with all that family estrangement growing up, the damage it did, the manipulative lies that tarnished and devastated our family so badly, having become a mother, I vowed to never let my family fall into the most hated thing in my vocabulary, and that is estrangement.  Little did I know that the harder I fought to keep my family together, the harder the devil and his minions fought to shatter it to a dozen or more pieces.  This is why Humpty Dumpty hasn’t been put all back together again, because there are too many pieces that have shattered from that wall, and the devil’s minions have blown them away into the wind, sadly, maybe never to be found.  

     
   So, now, I’ve been a daughter taken away from a parent, a sister, taken away from a brother, a grand-daughter taken away from beloved grandparents, a mother taken away from her first born, a mother taken away from her 2nd born, a wife taken away from her husband, and worse even yet, a grandmother who hasn’t seen her only grandchild in over four years.  I can get angry and blame all these people for the damage done, however, we all know, like Paul said, it isn’t flesh and blood we fight, but it is powers, principalities, and authorities of this dark world, the cunning, destructive demonic spiritual entities hell-bent on destroying families, thus doing all they can to hurt the GOD who created them, because they chose to follow a proud angel turned more evil than our human minds can fathom.  

   

       It is my hope that someday, I will see my son again, and my grandson, but will it be in time?  Will one of us, me and/or his father be in heaven?  Will there be another generation of irreparable damaged hearts because of the term-limits GOD gives us on this planet.  Like Job 14:5 GOD has set limits, He has decreed the number of our months of which we cannot exceed. There is a song that I heard when I was in college, and I used to play it really loud and cried all the way through it, hoping beyond hope that it would not become our family’s theme song. 

    It "In the Living Years, we must make amends, because after our last breath, and no one knows when that will be, regret becomes the ghost that never leaves our home, lives, heart, or destiny.   My heart is sick, because my grandparents never saw my 4 siblings again, and I’m sad to say, I’m sure that my father will never see his remaining four children, again, after 40 years of manipulative control, even after the manipulator is long gone.  They wouldn’t be stabbing my mother in the back anymore, because you can’t stabbed ashes interred into a grave.  Now, it is the memory of her that they would dishonoring, they say as a reason to not reconcile with our father before it is too late.  It’s okay to hurt my father, but not my DEAD mother.   I'm quite sure that my mother is likely up in heaven, wishing she never tarnished our hearts like that, but it's too late to make up for it, or make things better.  

     So, to those manipulative, controlling, children across the pond threatening their mother with the most devastating thing that could ever happen to her, I say, STOP it.      Before it's too late...., listen, learn, love, and let go of your need to control who you have no business controlling.  She is GOD's child, not your.  In the Living Years

      Believe me, you  are making many mistakes with your own children, and let me tell you, what goes around comes around.  If you strip those beloved children the love of their grandmother, I promise you, it will come back to bite you in the butt, in way of a blog, a book, or worse, estrangement of your very own,  shattering your own damaged heart.  You've alreadyt stripped her of all her friends, because you don't want her to have any, thus keeping her unhealthily imprisoned under your control.   I'm sure that we won't be friends, again, but SHAME on you for taking away, or threatening to take away the only joy that woman has left in this mortal world, her beloved grand-babies.  SHAME on you for using your children and weaponizing them for such evil.  

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