Back on Track

Well, this last year has been one that stretched me resources. I’m still feeling exhausted. A seven-month visit from an estranged and adored daughter that was unbelievably wonderful unfortunately didn’t repair things enough to leave the negativity behind. All with her and I went very well. From the first moment getting off her bus to the moment she entered the bus to return to what she considers ‘home.’ After a lifetime of praying, talking, loving, accepting and doing what I could do but always fell short in her eyes you would think we stood a chance with how well the long visit went. She, sadly, is involved in a long relationship to a man who does not work or provide for her. He lives off of her disability and food stamps. Problem really lies in what she shared with me while she visited; he hits her (open-handed, she justifies his behavior by the ‘open-handed’ making it okay in her mind. Also, she told me he supplies her with drugs when he chooses. i am at a stand still as to what to do. She’s clear across the U.S. from me. I have some thoughts and an idea to help watch over her being so far away but it’s a bit extreme but I also found where he’s listed as a sex offender and has also spent many years in prison and I would like to know exactly what for. With the information my daughter disclosed to me I should have every right in the world to try to protect my daughter.

Now, on with the original scheme of this blog. It’s been nearly a year, it may be difficult to get back on track.

I think where I will pin down time will be starting school. I can return to times previous to that as needed.

I was a nervous wreck! Only five years old and ready for kindergarten, Decked out in new ‘school’ clothes for the year or at least to get us to the Christmas holidays so Mama would equip me with what had been grown out of and replaced with gifts from Mama and Daddy. Toys were always under the tree from Santa, unwrapped. Aw, subject of Christmas seems to be strong. I will have to dedicate some time and effort to one of my most meaningful and lovely spiritual holidays. But, like that popular, seasonal saying, ‘Back to School”, lol.

I attended.

Try, Try Again…

Jesus held a huge piece of my heart even before the age of four. I believe
God made this possible for me, so small but I fully understood that Jesus was my best friend. As He is now.

Yeah. If at first we don’t succeed…

I guess, when you look at it like this I have to admit that as a helpless human being with no way to protect myself or have an opinion of my own, I have to look back and even during that first year of life, I have to see God at work in my life, before I arrived as well as everything to come. The second chance was all about Him. There was no way with my luck that any good would have come out of such a situation concerning me. But, God saw to it that I was taken care of righteously in any case. Maybe that is the cause of my strong belief in God, when I was so little.

When Daddy was off on deployment, life was one way. When he was home, life was a different way. Mommy was my new Sunday school teacher, I learned to love Jesus, I just knew He was as a bright white light, too bright to see, purest of clean that you could just sense His purity, and simply humble ourselves before Him. He’s always there and He’s  always loved me and forever will care for me. God, Jesus, they would watch over my family, me and all that I cared about. This is what I learned of Jesus and God A.S.A.P.!

I remember in San Diego, dressed in my special Sunday skirt suit. Big bow around my neck to tie under my chin to give that mature, very dressed up look then you also add the little white Sunday gloves, black patent-leather shoes in the little Mary-Jane style, that also matched my tiny little patent-leather purse to hold my offering and my hankie on our Special Day. Along with that, I remember the second floor room that was darkened by the lack of larger windows and no flourescent lighting back in the early 60’s. Looking out the window down onto the street, noticing how wide the sidewalk was down in front of our church. My bible, purse and paperwork were under a chair very close to the window. I didn’t like the darkness of the room. I would sit as closely to the light that the small window would allow in, and appreciate the fact that I had a good seat for me that day. I was happy and felt at home at that young age in that Sunday school room with Mommy as my teacher.

All was good there.


New Home for Who?

Who, who am I? Who, who am i?

Onward toward life as I go…

I now reside in San Diego, I have received two new parents, a mommy and a daddy. They had a child to full term in the fifties but i was still born for reasons that wouldn’t happen in this day and age. My brother, who I owe a debt of gratitude to, is named Michael. I started feeling this even stronger toward Michael as I got older life got more clear as time went on. Without his precious and untimely passing, there would have been no need or desire to have me in this new home where I am now at.

My new mommy and daddy changed my name from Leilon Therese to Mary Janeen, I was issued a new birth certificate with them listed as my birth parents and my new names listed as my birth names but they didn’t change my birth date or my birthplace. I was introduced to my new daddy when he return from his 9 month deployment. But I never really got to bond with him, he did retire from the USN until 19

69. I was 9 years old by then. They couldn’t keep my original name for the first and middle names were chosen for the fact that they were meant to be named after my biological parents’ names. So, new mommy and daddy did the same thing only with initials, lol, Mary after Mommy and the J in Janeen after James for new Daddy. I was brought up from the beginning knowing the whole time that I had been adopted. Mommy always said I was special because I was hand picked. That, I didn’t just ‘happen’, I was actually ‘chosen’ and that’s what made me so special. She always stuck to that story. I never had questions, no curiosity, no wonderment. I never dreamed of ‘what if’s’ having to do with biological parents. This became ‘MY’ biggest mistake and made so

Meeting Daddy for the First Time
Sometime in early 1961 my new Daddy came home from his Deployment and he and I were able to meet each other for the first time.

Mama’s gonna buy you another day…

many and so much ‘my fault’! This whole this was a blessing beyond what you could imagine but when people get or got involved it turned into anything from being hurt badly or being grateful to a fault.

Once you realize the family dynamics of these four people and the new grandparents I’ve now acquired this will all become a lot clearer.