When I do Motivational speeches, and in my essay’s, I try to debunk some theories about the effects of Chemo. For instance: not everyone gets sick from Chemo, including Cancer is not a death sentence in all cases. I know because I am a 3rd Stage Breast Cancer Survivor. But most of the time I try to destroy certain elements that are just not true, not only with cancer but with life in general. Especially the ones which may cause another to fail because of a lack of Faith.
As some of you know my slogan is To Kill the Head is to Kill the Body.
As an example: When I say I am cancer free, and others jump for joy, stating how glad they are I am in remission, I can scream. What part of Cancer Free don’t they get? Cancer is %100 curable, in some cases, such as mine. (Estrogen was the cause of my cancer.)
But that statement lets me know where people’s heads are; In the grave, and I pray they never hear their name and the word cancer in the same sentence as their name. Some would fall over dead like an Opossum, only they won’t be pretending.
On the other hand, I get surprised by some ole sayings that are hard to prove. Such as: When in a bad situation with a child and you have done the best you can for that child, especially when you realize your decision will alienate you, and your only saving grace after doing what is best and unpopular is making this statement;
You may hate me now, but later when you have children of your own you will understand.
I know that sounds strange that I would have the unfortunate opportunity to use that statement, especially since I never gave birth, but I did, and it turned out to be a Damn if you do, and a Damned if you don’t situation.
When there is no Middle Ground!
Years ago when I was preparing to build my home I choose to get a roommate to share the expenses of an apartment. I wanted to save all I could for my big move. As fate would have it, a long time friend then living in Atlanta was a perfect choice.
When this friend and I lived in another state, I met her children, who lived in another state with their grandmother. After some time, my roommate shared with me that at a very young age she was unable to care for her children because of a drug problem. But years had passed since then, and she was stable, including having a place to live. AKA: Our apartment.
After going over her plans to convince her mother she was prepared to receive and take care of her children, I agreed they could move in. We did have a three bedroom apartment, and she was willing to pay extra; that meant more for me to put towards my new house, and I thought she was sincere. Plus, I was looking forward to moving out soon as my home was built. All seemed well.
Finally, the two pre-teen girls arrived, and we settled down into a comfortable situation.
For a couple of females in the 80’s we were making a good living in our chosen fields, allowing us to enjoy the finer things in life, and still save money because of our living situation. So, needless to say, she could spoil her children. And as I got closer to them I had no problem helping her spoil them.
Then things changed in the blink of an eye.
She hadn’t seen him for years, nor had I, but it was something about him this time, and that had me up in arms. What was I afraid of I wondered? Regardless, I took a defensive stand, unbeknown to him. I told my roommate, I think the Devil just walked through the door. She laughed.
Soon the all night partying would start. My roommate once relied on drugs but she long passed that, so I thought. She tried her best to not re-involve herself with hard drugs, so she started using alcohol as her drug of choice, as this drug dealer inched his way deeper and deeper into her life.
Arguments started between she and me, coupled with I had to have him removed from the house, and that created more fights. And then the worst thing that could ever happen happened; she stopped coming home for days at a time. Leaving her children alone with me. A responsibility that was unfair to me.
The nourishing, preparing them for school, washing clothes, cooking dinner, disciplining them if I choose to do so. Those girls were perfect young women until their mother left them alone. I was not prepared for this, but who ever is?
I never wanted the responsibility of raising children, especially someone else’s. But I am an adult and so I did what adults are supposed to do, I took charge of those two out of control brats, and they Hated Me for it. As you can read my attitude about them made a drastic change.
Soon, but not soon enough, my new home was ready for me to move in. I left when my roommate was home and seemly stable, so after having a long conversation about the state of her children, I was hoping she realize the seriousness of the situation; I would not be there anymore to pick up the pieces. But that was not to be.
The apartment complex manager, who happened to have formed a great friendship with me called to say my ex-roommate was leaving her children alone, again, and she didn’t want to call Children and Family Services until she had spoken with me.
Naturally, I came to be with the girls, hoping their mother would be home soon. I would stay as long as I could, but I would have to go to work at some point. I thought I could trust them to do the right thing while I was gone.
Boy, was I wrong? It got so bad I would sleep in the car to keep an eye on them without their knowledge. They found me out one night while trying to sneak out of a window; I was there to foil their plans. This is when their relationship with me turned to hate.
Of course, their mother was nowhere to be found, so I called an uncle, which was a total waste of time. Finally, it was Children and Family Services, or the grandmother. I called the grandmother and she made arrangements for them to return to her. Much to my relief.
With their mother gone, and me waiting on the grandmother for a few days, those girls had a mind of their own, and it had nothing to do with me and my go to school rules. After-all, they had no issues with reminding me; You’re not our mother. And I in turn told them; “I am the adult here, and it is my responsibility to care for you until someone else does, mother or not.”
Not long after they had left Atlanta, I received a disturbing phone call from the grandmother proclaiming the girls told her how mean I had been to them, and the punishments I bestowed on them was borderline child abuse. They hated me, and so did she. I was devastated, and wrongly accused.
Twenty-five or more years had passed when out of the blue I received a phone call from that same grandmother who swore to hate me for the rest of my life for what I had done to her grandchildren.
She asked for permission to come visit, so she could apologize, bring the girls with her, and their children for me to meet.
To God be the Glory.! I am crying.)
She said they told her of the lies and injustice’s they placed on me when they were children, and they asked her to forgive them and me. They admitted everything I had told her about their mother was true. “Mama did leave us alone for days and it was Cherry that took care of us, just like she said.”
I guess having children of their own changed their minds about my actions, and they realized how hard it must have been for me. I forgave them long ago because they were just children, the grandmother should have known better, I thought. Now it seems as if that other myth is true; the one about children giving Hell to parents, that gave their parents Hell.
Anyway, the grandmother became too ill to come to Atlanta and apologized, but she sent those two now young mothers, tugging those little snotty nose babies with them. A good time was had by all, although they almost scared me to death when they said they were thinking about moving back to Atlanta.
I gave my best to those girls at a time when my knowledge was limited, and it paid off after years of knowing I did what I had to do, suffered the consequences, and finally I was able to reap the rewards.
“What comes around, goes around,” and I believe it is situations like that, and good decision-making that will make it all worthwhile in the end.
It’s Something to Think About!
If you enjoyed this Testimony you will enjoy I Survived 60 Years to get Cancer, Then Kill It./ The Norvie L. Cherry Story at xulonpress.com/bookstore, or get your E-Book at amazon.com/bookstore
Yours are invited to join this Blog at norvielcherry.com or e-mail me at:email@example.com
Thank you for your support.
To God Be the Glory! Amen
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