Introduction

Early in the morning the sun peaks through the bedroom curtains at five thirty and Moo

our cat decides to plunk his bum down on my face as a wakeup call for his breakfast. I

make my way downstairs flick on the electric fireplace, light some candles and put on

my coffee. As I walk into the kitchen the bouquet of Lilies’ I purchased the day before

are starting to open and that amazing fragrance captured warm feelings as I smiled.

This is my favorite time of the day as I am alone in my thoughts and feel solace in the

silence. The smell of coffee in the air alerts my senses to a peaceful place. My mind

floods with images and snapshots of the loves of my life and how I got here today. As I

reminisce that familiar ache of anguish wraps itself around my chest digging into my

soul ever reminding me of the darkness that has become my colleague in this journey of

life. I have endured a life of an emotional and draining marathon, yet I am still sane and

in the game. The light of my past and its ambiguity shines unfailingly in my mind’s eye

settling like a shawl of warmth on my shoulders; this has challenged me time and time

again to accept how darkness can be overcome with light. Throughout it all in the big

picture those suspended moments in time have woven together to create a present

understanding of myself. So, remarkable is a word that I would use to describe my

journey. I know that we all have a journey in this life and they are all incredibly different

yet incredibly similar. The path’s that have been presented to me along my journey of

life were by choice for some but I believe, by purpose for most. Every lesson has been a

piece of a puzzle that would become the whole of who I am.

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 Chapter 1 The Early Years

As a young child my life was pretty carefree. I was blessed with two parents who loved

me and only wanted the best for me. I have so many fond memories from a young age

growing up yet as a little girl I always felt that I was somehow different not special in any

evident way, just different. I have a younger sister and brother that I adored when we

were young and revelled in being the eldest. It was in those first eight to ten early years

that I discovered maternal instincts were a huge part of who I am. I took great pride in

being the big sister and protecting them. Those fond memories dissipated over the

years as I entered my early teens. My brother and I remained close however sadly my

sister and I grew apart gradually. I recall a conversation one day when she was angry

with me. She said “mom and dad love you more because you are the oldest and

prettiest and they love our little brother more because he is the baby”. I was very

surprised by this outburst but assumed it was a “middle child” reaction in the moment.

Unfortunately, after that day the sisterly connection I felt so strongly in early years,

dissolved into a civil tolerance between us as she distanced herself from me. I felt my

sister was always angry at me and she had no qualms at voicing her opinions about

things she did not like about me, which evidently was everything. As I moved into my

mid-teens and high school I was never a follower or a part of groups of friends as I had

been throughout elementary school, yet I was fiercely adamant when it came to matters

of principle and that was evident in certain times that I spoke up with no fear of

repercussion. When I see other people being treated badly and unfairly I am the first to

step up and defend them although not the case when it comes to defending myself

when treated badly. I did not practice what I preached so standing up for myself was not

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in character of “being a good girl”. I remember much love and compassion showered on

me since I was a toddler by my parents and extended family. I truly felt there was

always a white light surrounding me. My mother told me that I was always smiling and

people were drawn to me as a very young child, she felt the reason was because I

exuded a kindness and innocence that people of all ages saw in me. From the age of

about three until I was around twelve I spent a lot of time with grandparents on both my

parents’ sides. I would stay for weekends visiting and be the focus of attention from

these wonderful people that loved me unconditionally and shared their wisdom and

kindness completely. I recall spending a lot of time with my elderly grandparents on my

dad’s side. My dad’s parents were in their seventies and lived through a World War and

then returned to Canada to raise three boys on a farm. Their farmland was where they

lived until they passed away. I would stay for weekends and listen to their stories of

WW2 fascinated by a world completely foreign to me. My grandmother was a nurse and

my grandfather a soldier. They met during the war and were married when they

returned to Canada. They lived on a farm and raised three boys, the youngest of whom

was my dad. Every Sunday since I can remember my parents would load us kids into

the station wagon and I would be so excited for the one hour ride to spend the afternoon

and have supper with my grandparents. The whole family would be sitting around that

worn old dining room table drinking tea, a treat I relished, after a fine meal my

grandmother spent all day preparing. And as we listened in earnest, the smell of

tobacco emanated from my grandfather as he recalled his tales of bravery and how he

met and fell in love with my Granny, these memories from the war were the clearest to

me. I remember when I was about four years old my grandparents would entertain

3
friends and have me sing for them. I would sit on a chair in the middle of the room and

belt out songs like I was on a stage. It made me feel so warm and special as I basked in

the love I received and felt very special as they made me the center of attention.

Climbing fruit trees in their orchards and enjoying the strong sense of freedom and

safety on those summer days seemed to last forever. Having the liberation to run

outside from the moment your feet hit the ground until you fell into bed exhausted from

all of the running on those summer days was magical. For any child spending time with

grandparents is a wonderful experience. To be exposed to so much love, wisdom and

patience was an integral part of shaping my foundation on how I viewed the importance

of family. This instilled in me a deep sense of belonging and comfort that was

maintained in my childhood. There in those early years up until I was about seven it was

like a different life, a special time in my life that I would never forget. It was almost like a

dream as I floated from one year to the next enjoying absolute love and attention. My

maternal grandparents had played a large part in my path to spirituality. My great Uncle

was a Jesuit Priest and was the most revelled and talked about member of the family. I

remember vividly spending many overnights with my grandmother who would

repeatedly say her Hail Mary’s under her breath and would patiently sit with me as I

prayed each night. She had a notably beautiful picture of Jesus that was about two feet

by four feet tall on her bedroom wall. I recall as young as three kneeling before Jesus

and saying my prayers before bed. I believe those formative years with her created

permanent feelings of a trust and faith that sheltered and shaped my view in my spiritual

life. My grandmother being a devout Catholic had a strong influence on me and never

missed a moment to point out that I must always be a good girl. I was to always adhere

4
to her requests whether it be not talking to the neighbour about our business or saying

please and thank you for everything. As a result of her expectations during this time the

notion being a “good girl” would be my mantra throughout my life. Encased in that

conception was a naiveté and gullibility that would manifest hand in hand throughout my

journey. As well if I was obedient and steadfast in making the right choices then God

would protect me from going to hell and hell was a place that I feared the most! Overall I

feel that I was truly blessed to have such a safe and loving world in my formative years,

they were special times in my life that I have never forgotten. As I dream about those

long past times I come to realize that would be the case for the majority of my adult life

as sadness overcame my happiness at many turns. My dad worked as a conductor on

the trains and would be gone sometimes a week at a time. My mom worked as a

secretary in our local city hall and looking back I can share the challenges of being

alone raising children and how stressful that could be. I remember many times in the

evenings my mom talking to my on the phone and crying because she missed him so

much. My dad was a hard worker that always put his family first. He worked sixteen

hour days sometimes but when he came home he would always take a moment to give

me a hug and tell me how much he loved me. The relationship that my parents had was

a positive experience that I witnessed and I believed a good foundation to follow. Do not

get me wrong they were not perfect and would certainly have their arguments as do

most young couples raising a family but they instilled in me a hope and desire to find

that type of a relationship when I grew up. Because of their dedication to each other all I

ever wanted was to grow up marry a good man, have ten children and live happily ever

after.

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Chapter 2 The Journey Begins

When I entered my teens I found that that too was pretty normal initially. Being the

eldest of three children the expectations of being the eldest child, coming into my own

and arguing with my mom was pretty routine for a new teen trying to establish her

boundaries and independence. But I always felt safe with my family and had no idea

that one incident could change my whole life. After I turned thirteen I began my journey

into my adult years with a jolt so deep and emotional that it would set a precedent for

pain, trauma and tragedy. Those years would not only affect me but affect the most

important people in my life and that was my children. These were the very people that I

wanted to love and protect more than life itself. When I entered Junior high school into

grade eight, I was fourteen years old and wide eyed with excitement and anticipation

into a new world. To my shock I found that my body started to change drastically and

the little girl with the pony tail and no makeup transformed into a girl that was noticed

considerably by boys. The summer before I turned fourteen my gangly and somewhat

awkward frame became rounded and fuller. My breast’s developed quickly and my hips

widened enough to abandon my current selection of jeans and tee shirts. I felt all grown

up and to my delight I had a knack for putting on makeup and that became my ritual

every morning. I was overwhelmed at the sudden transition as the little girl was now

hidden under this new persona. I was asked out on dates yet not allowed to date so I

was friendly to all the boys and that naïve friendliness led to a devastation I would never

have imagined. I found most people were kind and friendly and I in return was the

same. I do not recall any person that showed any dislike for me.

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It was a crisp and sunny spring day when I joined some friends along with a large group

of other students to go across the street for our lunch break, have a smoke and hang

out. There was a church directly across the street from the school and had been for

many years, the ‘smoking area” where people milled in small to large groups for the

lunch hour and other breaks on a daily basis. There was probably thirty to forty students

that congregated in small groups exchanging laughter and bantering. I was confident

and gratified to be part of the “in crowd” or so I thought. I wanted to fit in so I began

smoking. The first time I puffed on a cigarette I literally threw up, but with the

determination to be part of this new culture of people I persevered until I too was an

adamant smoker. I also found the excitement of transitioning into my teens provided a

new found sense of liberation. I had been what I considered myself to be an “ugly

duckling” in elementary school and as if by magic my early teens into high school

magically developed me into a swan. On this particular day at the church a boy that I

knew from classes, however did not hang with, called me over to speak to him. As I

approached him he continued walking and talking and I followed him down a flight of

stairs that led into the basement of the church. After we had made our way to the

bottom of the stairs I suddenly realized that we were not alone. Immediately I felt the

hair on the back of my neck stand up and my heart was gripped with a feeling of panic.

The humiliation and fear that I experienced in those next few minutes will never leave

my soul. I became another person void of confidence, self-esteem and more importantly

self-respect. As I slowly turned around there were five boys surrounding me. I felt my

throat tightening as I barely got the words out “what are you doing”? Immediately my

mind shifted as if I was in a movie, playing in slow motion and I was unable to push the

7
stop button. In the next instant I was crudely shoved to the ground and immediately felt

the weight of one guy kneeling with both legs on my shoulders and his hands holding

down my head so I could not move my neck. Simultaneously two of them had pinned

my arms down and the other two were pulling on the button of my jeans attempting to

undo them and yank them down. On the ground as I struggled and was trying to

scream, the biggest guy holding my head kept covering my mouth, his filthy hand

emanating the lingering smell of garlic. The smell caused me to gag and drove me into

a deeper frenzy to break free. In a moment of clarity, I remember looking up and seeing

what appeared to be a hundred faces looking down at me and nobody said a word. It

was a mass of blank stares that pierced into my soul as I struggled to break loose. For a

split second I made eye contact with a pair of intense blue eyes but it was fleeting, I was

unsure if I did indeed connect. Immediately it was quickly forgotten in my misery and

terror.

I felt sharp tugging around my waist as my belt came undone while several hands

groped me and my pants were pulled down to my knees. I prayed to god to let me die in

that moment, to take away this agonizing helpless feeling. The harder I struggled to

push them off me the tighter their grip on my arms and legs. I do not remember exactly

who pulled my pants down but I felt it would not stop there. Instinctively I knew their

intent was a gang rape that was premeditated as it was carried out so swiftly and

quickly. In that moment it seemed so surreal and I felt like I was having an out of body

experience. As they assaulted me I could feel the concrete floor scratching the bare skin

on my back, I was writhing in panic at the bottom of those stairs of the church. I looked

up into the blue sky noticing a considerably large cross that loomed high above the

8
church right in the path of my sight, yet I did not feel protected. For a second I felt a

false sense of security with my faith in a moment when I needed it most. My mind cried

out to my grandma begging her to pray for me in this time of need and I screamed in my

mind to God to please grant me mercy, after all I had been a good girl and surely I was

deserving. Within seconds the violence roaring against my body moved swiftly to all of

my breath being sucked out of me. The air became dense and still. The world appeared

to be muted of sounds and colors leading me to believe I was not of this earth. Time

stood still as I succumbed to desiring a swift death as my chest was tightening in panic

and an overwhelming angst clung to my body. I struggled to not only free myself but

catch my breath, but to no avail as they had my body pinned down from every angle.

There was absolutely no sound or emotion from these boys as they methodically

attacked and violated me. Although at one point I did hear grunting from one of them as

I kicked with all my strength with a surge of anger causing his grip to loosen on my right

leg, but only for a moment as his subsequent strength took on a renewed manner. Time

stood still as I was paralyzed in sheer horror. At last my fortunate reprieve was a

student from another school who happened to be making his way home that afternoon

from another school. He crossed through the church yard obviously curious to find out

why a group of people were converged together looking down the stairway in the back

of the church. It was sheer luck that when he saw what was going on he felt obligated or

compelled to yell at the boys to “stop!”

As quickly as it began it ended. The boys pulled their hands off me, glanced at me

indifferently and walked up the stairs continuing on like nothing happened. The many

students that witnessed this effrontery in silence all dispersed back into their little

9
groups and went back to having their cigarettes and chatting quietly. As if nothing had

happened.

As I lay there in fetal position praying to God to swallow me up from that moment, I felt

so much shame and pain at the thought of what could have transpired. Why would they

do this to me? I screamed in my head. I must have done something to provoke them, I

thought. So many words and questions flooded my mind as I tried to comprehend how

this could have happened. After what felt like an hour I gathered up the strength to

move. The air felt stagnant and my limbs were numb. As I rolled over out of fetal

position waves of nausea filled my stomach. I looked up at the stairs and they were

dauntingly longer than I remembered and this time there were no faces gazing down.

As I relive the memory often I wonder how and why those many people did not even try

to stop it or try and help me. Did they not see how terrified I was; how wrong it was? It is

frightening to not only be part of, but witness the culmination of a mob mentality happen

in a blink of an eye.

There was just me, alone by myself as I walked up those stairs. Each step I took felt like

my feet weighed one hundred pounds. I held my head down in shame and numbness

as I slowly walked past the students in their little groups having their smokes. Ten

minutes ago they were onlookers witnessing an unbelievable offence and instantly they

became normal people milling around. I wanted to die when I did look up, my eyes met

theirs and they stared vacantly as if nothing had happened. How can people stand back

and watch such a horrible situation and not one person say a word? I was in shock yet

somehow I managed to walk the thirty minutes’ home from the school and the next thing

I remember was calling my mom at work to inform her of what had happened stating

10
that I would never go back to that school again. Just as I was finishing that conversation

my dad came home and asked why I was home from school so soon. I said “here talk to

mom” and passed him the phone. After about a minute I saw my dad’s face drain of

color and his hand started to shake. He expressed his anger and disgust then hung up

the phone and informed me that we were going to the school to meet with the Principle.

I was terrified as if I had done something wrong. I did not want to go yet my dad insisted

and up to the school we went.

As dad and I entered the school we walked down the hallway towards the office. The

bell had just rung as it was in between classes and my heart sank. Steadily I had to

walk by all five of the boys that assaulted me. Again I was overwhelmed with shame

and embarrassment as they showed no sign of emotion, and in fact I recall a couple of

them smirking at me.

We met with a guidance counsellor/ gym teacher in his office. I had the impression from

his demeanor at the start that he too would show no empathy as did all of the others

and my feeling was right. My dad and I and were shocked at what he had to say. I

started to recant what happened, stifling sobs, as I struggled to get the words out not

looking up to meet his gaze. A few seconds of silence settled in the air and once more

panic was rising in my throat. My heart sank as his face did not register any emotion

and his eyes peered indifferently to me across the desk. Calmly he reached both arms

up behind his head clasping his fingers together his head slightly tilting forward in his

worn black leather chair and calmly said “my boys would never do that” with such

abruptness indicating that was the end of the conversation for him.

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I was speechless and I could feel my dad was restraining himself from leaping across

the desk and attacking the counsellor. I left the school feeling defeated and so incredibly

overwhelmed with guilt. I must have done something to provoke this. I must really be a

bad person to have allowed this to happen.

My parents wanted to involve the police and charge these boys yet I feared that I would

be taunted and chastised even more cruelly so I insisted that we just let it be. Not one

person from the staff or counselling department from the school ever attempted to reach

out to me. Because of the whole situation a flood of negative feelings of lack of self-

worth and lack of self- confidence only intensified. To make matters even worse I was

labelled a “slut” (even though I was a virgin) and I was the butt of vicious rumors

declaring “I had asked for that to happen to me”. The lack of any empathy or concern

broke my heart and I could not fathom how this could be. Daily I ignored the fact that I

was the focus of attention and people behaved differently towards me. I heard whispers

as I walked by people and could feel their stares scrutinizing me unjustly. I had a

burning emptiness inside that never left me alone yet I started each day with a renewed

faith that I would somehow be rid of this sadness and miraculously things would be

normal again. But that certainty was not to appear. As time pressed on I managed to get

through it however I look back and see a major shift in my psyche that materialized. I

was not conscious of the change until later when I was well into young adulthood.

I braved the next few months attending school then transferred to another school at the

end of that term so that I could embark on a fresh start. On the outside I always smiled

as if nothing had fazed me but my battered self- esteem and poor sense of personal

worth weighed heavily on me and would continue to do so for the next three decades. A

12
precedent was set for each and every painful situation I had encountered moving

forward. This was the personal self -destruct path that paved the way for my challenging

and arduous journey ahead.

My First Love

In 1973 and I had completed my first three weeks in my new school. I was still self-

conscious about the incident at my last school and was afraid that word would get out

and people would judge me, so I kept to myself. In the 1970’s it was common to

hitchhike and I did just that one day after school. A fellow from my high school named

Bill who was two grades ahead of me, pulled over in his hot-rod car and offered me a

ride home. I thought he was cute and the fact that he was two years older made me feel

special. He was very nice and complimentary on our drive and I felt safe, a feeling I had

not felt for a long time. I soon began my relationship with him and we dated for the next

two years. He was in his last year of high school and I was two years behind. I

established good friendships with many girls and delighted in starting fresh where

nobody knew about my past. My lunch hours consisted of heading over to his house

which was a block away from the school and spend the hour making and eating our

lunch together. I did not get involved with extracurricular activities as it would take my

time away from him and that was the way he liked it. Initially as in most relationships it

was great. We spent every day after school together as well as weekends. I had a new

group of friends that we hung out with and I thought my life was perfect. For the first

year my calendar was full of my boyfriend and I hanging out with people and having fun.

I did the usual teenage stuff of drinking with friends on a Friday night or skipping school

once in a while to sit at a friend’s house and watch soap operas for the afternoon.

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My boyfriend had a reputation for being a “tough guy “as well as owning one of the

fastest and most popular car in school. Everywhere we went in his car there was always

some guy that wanted to drag race or just pull over and discuss the size of the engine or

type of tires. I felt special and was always the good girlfriend that sat in the front seat

and smiled while he would spend hours chatting to different people.

I was contented and feeling safe that no one would ever hurt me again as in my mind

his reputation would keep all of the bad people away from me. But as our relationship

continued on I found myself giving up time spent with my friends and sitting for hours on

end each weekend while he worked on his car. My life slowly became confined to him

only and more often than not it was from morning to dusk in his driveway as he worked

on his car. I would sit for hours making conversation accepting my life should be no

other way. We never went out to movies or restaurants and I would feel pangs of

jealousy when I would hear from my girlfriends their exciting weekend outings. One day

I told him I did not want to hang out while he worked on his car and he got quite angry.

His piercing brown eyes narrowed and he grabbed me by the arm and shook me. “You

are spending the day with me!” I was frightened by his outburst and immediately thought

I was being selfish. I never asked again if I could hang out with my friends on the

weekends he wanted me around. My last year in high school was spent devoting my life

to his whims and a continuous feeling like I owed him something kept me in abeyance.

Week after week my only social life was hanging out with my girlfriends during school

times and that was something I looked forward to each day. I enjoyed getting together

with girlfriends at parties on Friday and Saturday nights but eventually that faded. Soon

my weekends became isolated with just him and we would hang out either in the

14
driveway with his car or his basement where we would watch the series of Mash over

and over. The ashtrays were overflowing by Sunday night and a pile of beer cans

leaned against the back door. On the wall behind the basement door and on the kitchen

wall beside the sink revealed broken gyp rock hanging over gaping holes. A temper

that was divulged on more than one occasion kept me obedient and a good girl. There

were many times his personality became more aggressive as the months carried on and

I was never prepared for the outbursts and wonder how I could have been so naive as

to not expect them. One Friday night we joined up with some friends at an outdoor spot

that was considered our stomping grounds for weekend partying. About twenty of us

stood around a crackling fire as we enjoyed our Baby Duck wine and Pilsner beers, the

laughter echoing through the darkness and into the shadows of the trees. The alcohol

flowed through our blood as everyone was becoming relaxed and tipsy and the voices

shouted louder as the energy level rose. People were hugging and flirting as they

usually do once slightly inebriated and l was getting attention from one fellow in

particular that was not too well liked by Ron. Shortly after that I made my way into the

bushes as was customary for us girls when we had to pee. After I finished and made my

way back and was walking past the cars parked on the edge of the clearing, I felt a

sudden movement of air as Bill rushed up to me and pinned against the trunk of his car.

He dug his fingers into my shoulders and shook me forcefully. “Why were you smiling

and flirting with John”? he said. His balance was off as he was well into a case of beer

and his hands squeezed tighter as he staggered. “I was not flirting I was just talking to

him” I cried. I was frightened as he would not let go and started to cry. Just then a

girlfriend walked over and said “what is going on?” Immediately Bill dropped his hands

15
and put them in his pockets and said” Nothing, we were just talking” then walked back

over to the fire. His jealousy was apparent and typically resulted after he had been

drinking. Each time we would have an argument I would be the one to apologize in the

end as I felt I was doing something wrong. So hour after hour I would sit and watch him

work on his car and even though I grew tired of it I felt compelled to stay in this

relationship because I was afraid not to. I constantly felt alone and isolated from

everyone except him. There were the weekends he chose and made clear were his”

alone time with his buddies”. Inevitably by the following Monday I had discovered his

time away included being unfaithful yet I still maintained that he loved me and only me.

The days of compliments and loving words turned into criticism and disapproval but I

justified in my mind that I could not get anyone else that would love me like he did and

he would often remind me that I was lucky to have him. On a particular Saturday

afternoon spent at his house while he worked on his car I had gone into his house to

make his lunch as I always did. His mother was sitting at the kitchen table having her

cigarette and cup of coffee as was her daily ritual. She asked me how I was and I

replied “I am fine how you are? She looked at me in a condescending manner and with

a touch of sarcasm in her voice she said “Leanne you are such a martyr” I was

confused by her comment not quite understanding what she meant, but more

importantly hurt by her accusatory tone. Many years down the road those very words

echoed in my mind as I felt myself repeating the same behaviours.

My final year of high school was drawing to an end and the excitement of graduation

was all the buzz with my friends. The before and after parties that were being planned

were exciting and I looked so forward to them. A week before our Graduation my

16
boyfriend said “Leanne cancel your plans for the grad party as I am going to take you

out for dinner and celebrate the evening with just you” I was over the moon! After so

many weekends and week nights of doing nothing except working on his car he was

going to make it all up to me and share this exciting time with me. The graduation

ceremony was an exciting night as my girlfriends and I anxiously waited to cross the

stage. A new beginning in our lives and a new chapter to our journeys. My parents were

in the auditorium yet I could not see my boyfriend anywhere. I was a little disappointed

he was not there to witness my big night but I reasoned with myself he would make it up

to me with a wonderful evening. When the ceremonies ended and we dispersed to see

our families I was informed by my parents that he had called the house before they left

to tell me that he had to cancel the night as his car broke down and he had to fix it. “But

don’t worry honey, dad and I are taking you out for a celebratory dinner” my mom said.

I was deflated and sad but something deep inside of me changed. It was a defining

moment in realizing that this two-year relationship could not continue and not because

he was unavailable for the night but because I had had enough. The next day when he

called there was no mention or apology for the night before. I told him that we had to

meet up that day. When he arrived at my house I was sitting on the sofa in my living

room. I looked up as he walked in noting his black Dayton boots were shinier than I

remembered. He hesitated then strode across the Living room and sat down beside me.

I stared at him briefly, looked out the window and sighed. “I am breaking up with you

and I wanted to tell you face to face”. He looked downcast past me and put his hand on

my leg. “I don’t want to break up, I love you and I am sorry”. I felt strength inside as his

words did not move me. I lifted his hand off my leg and dropped it onto his lap. I paused

17
and looked directly at him. “I am done “I replied in a firm tone that even I was surprised

to hear. After he left I felt a renewed power and freedom. He spent several weeks trying

to contact me and apologizing but I was done. I found it empowering to feel that

strength deep within me come to the surface guiding me to follow through and be

decisive.

During those two years my mindset of being “a good girl” in my first real relationship

resulted in laying a foundation for future relationships. In retrospect my fundamental

nature befitted that of a child living in a cocoon for the next thirty years. For many years

my eyes’ were aware of what was going on but the emotional capacity that I possessed

was stunted and throughout all of the shame and pain I would endure in my life, I held

on, like I could not control the things that went on in my life even though I was a full

participant I look back and see a very different person that I know longer resemble.

After high school I was excited to start College then on to University and get my degree

to become a teacher. I loved young children and wanted to encourage and help them in

their formative years. My birthday is in the fall so I was seventeen when I graduated and

started College. I dated periodically but never felt like I fit in with any group or specific

relationship. I worked part time and went to school and my life was pretty ordinary and

flat.

Chapter 4 My First Torment

College did not consume me as I had hoped. I had not established any strong

friendships and spent most of my time alone. It was at this time I discovered that I could

control my weight by throwing up after everything I ate. My binging and vomiting gave

me a jarring pleasure in having that control over myself. I remember the impact of that

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feeling, it was the first time in a long time that I had any sense of control over myself. lf

and how that exhilarating feeling empowered me when I first started vomiting, I did not

realize or give it a second thought of how my body image and self-esteem played the

key role in this disorder. I spent well over ten years imprisoned with this cycle of

extreme bingeing and purging which I learned was Bulimia Nervosa. The ironic thing is

that I had the extreme opposite power of what I felt that I had. I had absolutely no

control over this disorder and I was a prisoner of myself. One Saturday I was babysitting

for a family friend of my parents as they asked me to watch their two boys for the

afternoon while they went out. I agreed and took the boys to the park for a couple of

hours. We raced each other home and I promised them we would have ice cream upon

our return. The kids eagerly awaited as I got the cones and ice cream for them then

scooted them into the backyard to play. I finished my ice cream cone and then

proceeded to eat the whole bucket in one sitting. My guilt flooded my body I hurried not

wanting the kids to come in the house and see what I was doing. After the last spoonful

I quickly cleaned up the kitchen then went into the bathroom and stuck my finger down

my throat. I threw up an almost bucket of ice cream, rinsed my mouth, washed my face

and went back into the kitchen where the boys were waiting for me. We watched TV for

the remaining of the afternoon until their parents came home. I was sitting downstairs in

the family room when I heard their mom yell “who ate all of the ice cream?!” The boys

were insistent that they did not have any more than one cone. Their mom chastised

them for not telling the truth and told them to go to their rooms. I was appalled with

myself that I did not speak up and admit that it was me that ate all of the ice cream. How

could I confess that I ate almost a whole bucket then promptly threw it up? I felt deep

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shame as I stood back and allowed the kids to be punished for something they did not

do. I never did admit to anyone that it was me and still feel a pang of guilt all these

years later.

Many years later a fragment deep in my soul found the perpetuating will of its own to

assist me in overcoming that disorder. Even though it was ten years until my prayers

were answered and I overcame the purging, this was to be the beginning of a long

thread of challenges that I would overcome through my faith and prayers.

Chapter 5 My First Marriage

I was finishing my second year in College and my life was pretty structured. I lived at

home with my mom and dad as I was very close to them both. I was content and happy

and enjoyed the close family get together times with relatives and friends. One

particular Saturday afternoon while sitting at home my phone rang and a friend had

invited me to a party that night. I had not been in a relationship for a long time and was

quite content staying home on weekends. I was not feeling up to going out however I

agreed and she picked me up later. It was a house party and many of the people were

strangers to me yet the laughter and loud music seemed to bring everyone together and

I was glad I went. Towards the end of the evening I saw a tall lanky guy make his way

from the crowded kitchen across the room to where I was sitting. He held out a bottle of

beer introduced himself as Mike and knelt down beside me. He was still taller than me

and as I looked up at him he smiled and cocked his head to one side. “We are going to

another party, why don’t you and your girlfriends join us?’ The effects of my last couple

of drinks caused me to feel giddy and I was intrigued with his candid approach. I

thought he was cute and was pleased that he singled me out as there were a lot of

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pretty girls at the party. As the evening was in full swing a group of us made our way

out of the house to attend another party. Once outside Mike asked me if I would like to

ride with him. His arm gestured down the street to a blue corvette sitting directly under a

street light looking ominously inviting. He smiled with pride and said “let’s go for a ride”

As I was walking to the car he rushed ahead and opened the passenger door. He

appeared very confident and made me feel special and so began my first official date

and journey into the next thirteen years with this man. He worked as a conductor on the

railroad and I thought that was cool as my dad too worked on the railroad and that

would give them something in common to talk about. Into our third month we had

started talking about marriage and I was thrilled that I found a man who I could spend

the rest of my life with and have the children I had always wanted. He shared his

excitement of us buying a house together and I soon lost interest in school and dropped

out. He encouraged me to work and save money towards our future and I agreed for it

would be selfish of me not to. I started a job with as a secretary with a Law firm in

downtown Vancouver. We spent every waking moment together and I was sure that this

relationship would last forever. His behaviour changed subtly and I would second guess

myself when noticing the changes. The first few months of our dating were “the calm

before the storm”. Four months into the relationship we were at his mother and dads

house for a BBQ. He drank regularly on weekends and as time moved on his drinking

was becoming quite excessive. But I never questioned or queried him as I did not feel

comfortable pointing it out. I came over for dinner and I was running late. When I arrived

at the door his face revealed an unpleasantness that made me feel uneasy. “Why are

you late? My mom has had dinner waiting for you” he said and before I could answer he

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grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me into the house. His grip was so tight I winced. I

was in shock and when I looked up at him I gazed into a set of eyes that were not

familiar. It was so sudden but within moments it was gone. This became a regular

occurrence but for some reason I felt a deep fear of talking to him about it. Late one

night we were driving home from a party with some friends when he started to brag

about the looks the women were giving to him and how they were attracted to and

wanted him. His tone was so intentionally mean and sarcastic as he sneered “Those

chicks were hot, they wanted me. Too bad you don’t look like them!” Immediately I

became defensive and shouted back to him “You are such a jerk!” In a split second he

took his right hand off the steering wheel and grabbed my left arm at the wrist and

twisted it behind my back. He held it there for about thirty seconds as he yelled and

berated me for raising my voice to him. When he let go I started to sob. I could not

move my arm and told him I needed to go to the hospital as I feared it was broken.

Begrudgingly he took me to the ER where I was informed my shoulder was dislocated.

When the doctor asked how this happened I gave a lame excuse that I had fallen on it.

As the words fell out of my mouth I looked up to see a smug look spread over Mike’s

face. He was triumphant as he had won again. I guess I was so in love with the notion

of being in love that I was oblivious to anything other than that relationship. The red

flags that were evident were overlooked by me at the time and when I did have any

uneasy feelings I would discount them and pretend they did not happen. And so, again,

began the cycle of abuse. I continued to believe if I was always good and non-

confrontational things would get better. It was 1978 and we were spending our first

Christmas together. My mom and dad had always celebrated Christmas in a big way for

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us kids ever since I can remember. Mom would start playing Christmas music in the first

week of December and by the second week the house was filled with smells of

gingerbread and mincemeat. Our tree was put up on the fifteenth each year and the

decorations adorned every free space in the living and dining room. Mike and I went

with mom and dad to pick out our usual six foot tree that filled up a quarter of the living

room when set up in the corner. That particular Christmas Eve Mike proposed to me

and I was overjoyed that I would soon become married and start to live my happy ever

after. The next May we were married a day to the year that we met.

My girlfriends had taken me out on a stag a week before my wedding. Mike went for an

overnight on a fishing boat with some friends. The evening started out good as the girls

and I had fun dancing at a local pub but my memory of the evening stopped about one

hour into our night. As it turned out someone at the pub had slipped something into my

drink unbeknownst to me. Apparently I was falling down and not speaking coherently.

My friends called my Mike to tell him they were taking me home and that he should

meet us there. He was not very receptive to the phone call that he needed to come

home however he had his friend bring him back to the mainland to drive home. When

the girls got me home I was vomiting for about one hour. I vaguely remember Mike

coming home and my girlfriend’s leaving. The next thing I do remember is waking up in

the middle of the night panicking as I was disoriented and did not know how I got into

bed. I reached over and shook him to awaken him and ask what had happened. His

obvious displeasure of my waking him resulted in his rolling over and punching me in

the face. I was told to shut up as I had ruined his fishing weekend with the guys and as

he rolled over and back to sleep I remember sitting there in shock trying to comprehend

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what had happened that night and why he hit me. Feelings of guilt and fear flowed

through me as I fell asleep. The next morning, I awoke feeling groggy and struggled to

recollect the night before. When Mike awoke he did not make any reference to the night

before and as I rolled over to get off the bed I felt a little stiff and my face was throbbing.

Initially I thought I just had a hangover and got up to go pee. As I passed by the mirror I

was horrified to see that I had a black eye. My heart sank as jumbled memories of the

previous night started to come back to me. I asked him how this happened and when I

asked him why he hit me? He replied “because you deserved it by ruining my weekend”.

I was in shock yet did not make an effort to defend myself. Needless to say on my

wedding day one week later I used extra cover up to hide the purple bruise under my

eye. When asked what had happened by family members I replied that I had walked

into a door. That was the first of many excuses that I would relay to family and friends

over the next two decades to hide my secrets.

Our marriage started out pretty typical of newlyweds. He was still working on the

railroad and I interviewed and was hired as a Legal Secretary. I was pretty excited to

land such a good job as my salary was pretty healthy considering I was only nineteen

years old. I envisioned working for several years contributing to our joint account so we

could plan for our future. I commuted downtown to the Law Firm each weekday and felt

very happy with where my life appeared to be going. After our first year together he

approached his mother and she lent us some money to put a down payment on a home

in the Vancouver area. I was so excited to purchase our first house and I was happy

with my “newfound” married life. I was going to be the perfect wife and cook supper

every night, be a perfect wife and have lots of babies.

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I was finally where I dreamed of being since I was a little girl, married and going to live

happily ever after or so I thought. A couple of months after we were married I found out I

was pregnant. I was ecstatic and felt so blessed to be having a baby. Mike was not as

enthusiastic as I was but I did not let that get in the way of my bliss.

During my pregnancy the verbal and physical abuse was a weekly occurrence that I just

seemed to fall into and accept. My pregnancy was the ultimate for me and I put so

much emphasis on having a baby that it did not occur to me that my life style in an

abusive relationship would directly affect my unborn child. I found that the arguing

started more frequently at this time and when I look back I realize his true colors were

coming out as he was not too thrilled to be having a baby so soon. We had a dog

named Tasha and she was a beautiful German Shepard. She was a great companion to

me as Mike worked on the railroad and was gone twice a week for overnight trips. As

my pregnancy progressed in the first trimester I was violently ill for about two months. I

was vomiting all the time and the nausea seemed like it would never leave. I would

leave crackers beside my bed for when I woke up first thing in the morning for work and

the crackers were the first thing I reached for after turning off my alarm. On one

particular morning I had had a very restless night and was overcome with nausea when

I awoke. I turned my alarm off and went in another room to leave a message with my

boss that I would not be into work that day. I did not want to disturb Mike so I crawled

back into bed and finally fell asleep again. I was awoken with him violently shaking me

and asking why I was not going to work. I told him I felt so sick that I did not have the

energy to get up. The next thing I felt was him literally kicking me out of the bed yelling

“get your ass to work”! I was dumbfounded that he could be so callous but this was just

25
a peek into his character and persona that I was to witness for many years. I accepted it

and felt that I deserved this treatment.

As my pregnancy progressed my excitement of having a baby was all consuming and to

feel her move within me was wonderful. I set up the guest room into a nursery and

continued working up until my eighth month. The relationship between Mike and I grew

vaguely distant but I reasoned with myself that things would be better when the baby

was born and we would be a happy family. I thought he would become this amazing

husband and father that I always dreamed of, but sadly not even close.

As Mike and I both worked full time our dog Tasha was left inside for the most part and

she would be put out to go to the bathroom in the yard. I told Mike that he should make

a dog run out the back so the dog could have more exercise and not be cooped up in

the house all day while we were gone. But he refused to do that and the inevitable

happened. One day we both got home at the same time and of course the dog had

been in the house all day where had pooped and peed all over the carpet. When Mike

saw this he flipped out literally. I could not believe the rage that he expressed. He

screamed at the poor dog, picked her up and violently threw her out the front door down

the stairs to the cement landing. In that moment of sheer violence I was mortified as I

had never encountered such a sight. I was terrified and could not move. I started yelling

and saying she could not help it. “You cannot leave a dog in the house all day and not

expect her to not have an accident!” I screamed. But he did not care what I had to say

and as he yelled and swore at the dog she lay cowering on the ground shaking. I was

so scared that he was going to turn around and hit me that I ran into the bathroom and

locked the door. I came out about five minutes later and he had gone out to the garage.

26
I found the Tasha lying on the back porch and my heart sank. As she looked up at me

her eyes were so sad and reflected the pain she felt from being thrown outside, my

heart broke for her. As she wagged her tail and looked up at me I saw as she tried to

stand but she could not. I was afraid her leg was broken. I went to Mike and told him we

needed to take her to the vet but he refused. The next day after he had gone to work I

took the dog to the local vet and found that her leg was not broken however she was

badly bruised. I bought some pain medication for her and took her home and cuddled

with her for a couple of hours. It was about a week later that I came home from work

and Tasha was gone. When I asked him where she was he said he took her to the

SPCA. Although I missed her I was secretly glad that she was not around him anymore.

I truly felt like the dog after that, helpless fearful and guarded.

Chapter 6 My First Child

June 28th 1980 I went into labour with my beautiful first child Nicole Marie. The labour

lasted around 18 hours and when her time arrived to come into this world she literally

flew out of me so quickly that the doctor almost dropped her. I was mesmerized by this

tiny perfect little miracle that grew inside me for the last nine months. She nursed

immediately and instinctively. That natural connection and ability would be her gift to the

world as anyone and everyone that passed through her life would latch on to her

beautiful soul. This tiny gift I was given would complete my life and grow alongside me

in my happy ever after story. If that were only true.

The first years with Niki were everything I dreamed having a baby would be like. I spent

many days that summer with her in the snuggly going for long walks. The sweet smell of

freshly cut grass and the stillness of those sunny days were absolute perfection with my

27
girl. I would sing to her and talk to her about our lives together, how I would love her

unconditionally and forever protect her. During these times she was always smiling as if

she knew exactly what I was saying to her. She was truly the light of my life. As a new

mother I lived for her smiles and her love. My husband on the other hand became

increasingly jealous and more controlling. His temper became part of our daily life. I

cherished the days he would be away working then I could be unafraid and enjoy my life

with my girl. Niki was three months old when the formidable shadows of violence

became brazenly evident. I was not even remotely prepared for the first real blow up

that transpired on a hot summer day when I was nursing Niki as Mike was outside

cutting the lawn. I was mesmerized by my beautiful girl talking to her as she nursed and

I held her tight. I came out of my moment when I heard the back door slam and Mike

yelled abruptly “where is my lunch?!” I looked up and spoke in a soft tone so as not to

upset Niki and replied that I would make it shortly after she finished nursing. I can only

describe the next moments as a blur as Mike strode across the room and literally pulled

Niki off my breast and dropped her on the couch. He then grabbed me by the hair and

pulled me onto the ground dragging me into the kitchen demanding that I make his

lunch “now!” I was terrified but more than that I was mortified that my baby was

screaming in fear and he was oblivious to that. When he let go of my hair I jumped up

and ran back into the living room scooping up Niki and hugging her while rocking her to

calm her down. There were no words that I could speak as I was in total shock. It was

as if it was happening to someone else. And again another precedent was set for my

future in this abusive relationship that would take me years to overcome.

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When I look back at that piece of my life and the emotional damage that was done not

only to me but to my infant daughter I feel sick. It is like a dream that I was a participant

in albeit an unwilling one. It was as if I had no mental or emotional strength to see the

cowardice in this man and the potential and permanent danger that he would inflict upon

myself and my children.

As in most relationships that are built around domestic violence mine continued on with

the promises of change and the tears and “I am sorry” echoing in my mind daily,

monthly and yearly.

Mike came home from work one evening and informed me we would move out of the

city and up north about five hours away. In a moment of an apologetic declaration he

promised that a new start with a new home and environment would solve all of our

problems, that things would be different and better for us. As he was an avid hunter and

loved to fish this would allow him the opportunity to enjoy these hobbies more often. He

would no longer have to use his holidays to go on yearly hunting trips up north with his

dad.

I was excited at the thought of a fresh start and had high hopes of mending the failing

relationship. We bought a house a lakefront in a community of around seventy-five

people. It was situated in Norther BC up in the mountains, and was a good five-hour

drive from my parent’s home in Vancouver. The house sat upon a hill overlooking the

lake with a quarter acre yard and a dock. It was a truly beautiful rural setting and I was

excited believing that things would be different raising my children in such a perfect and

open environment. As I look back I realize that having me living in a community without

a vehicle and thirty minutes from the next town was a conscious move on his part. I was

29
alienated from my family who were three hundred and fifty miles away and far enough

away from access to the nearest town. Nonetheless I was loving my life with my

beautiful little girl and putting all of my attention and focus into her. Those first couple of

years spent with Niki, those piercing green eyes and infectious laugh fulfilled my every

dream of being a mother. I was totally and unequivocally in love with this little person

that I created. As Mike’s work took him out of town for twenty four to forty eight hours at

a time every other day, my days were filled with Niki by my side every waking moment.

When Niki was four years old she had an amazingly curious mind that matched her

sense of adventure. During the summer we would take daily walks around the lake and

she would always bring a glass jar container as she wanted to be prepared to catch

butterflies on our outings. The summers were always lovely as the wind picked up off

the lake and blew a soft breeze all around us. There was only dirt roads and the

roadsides were full of overflowing raspberry and blackberry bushes that she delighted in

popping into her mouth on our walks. The traffic was scarce allowing us to walk down

the middle of the roads without worry. One particular day Niki skipped alongside me as

we laughed and talked about silly things. “Mommy! She squealed “look a butterfly!” she

raced ahead of me and stopped short of the tall grass that was almost up to her little

shoulder. She motioned me to “shush” as I walked up behind her being careful not to

create too much motion. She stood Daveiently waiting for the butterfly to land. Her blond

hair glistened like gold and her little body stood unbending as she focused with an

earnest intensity on that butterfly dancing in front of her. Suddenly the butterfly stopped

fluttering and landed on a blade of grass right in front of her. She stayed still and I heard

“hello little butterfly, how you are today? I was overcome with emotion as I saw what

30
appeared to be an invisible connection between the two. She had a conversation

chatting quietly for about two minutes and the butterfly did not move. Gently she

reached out her finger and the butterfly glided onto her little hand with ease. Niki turned

her head in my direction with a calm and peaceful smile. She continued to whisper to

the butterfly for several minutes then she looked up at the sky. In that same moment the

butterfly hovered up to her eye level, flapped its wings then drifted away. A warm glow

of her gentle soul was revealed. That day uncovered her natural affinity and connection

with any and all animals. As she grew older she said she wanted to be a Veterinarian

when she grew up. I remember once she found a damaged crow in the back yard and

she and I nursed it back to health. The excitement of her new pet was big news in the

neighbourhood until one day a cat found its way to the crow and it died. Niki was

overwhelmed with sadness and loss and I comforted her by providing a shoe box and

we had a burial in the back yard.

Her passion for nature was fulfilled as we shared many walks and discoveries filling

endless days of summer and fall and the bond and love for each other unwavering. In

the winter of 1981 I found out I was going to have another baby and I was elated to

deliver a new brother or sister for Niki. Unfortunately, at seven months I began to bleed

and I was put on bed rest in the hospital for the next month. My parents made the five

hour road trip to see me and took Niki back to Vancouver with them to take care of her

while I was in the hospital. I remember missing her so much but knowing that she was

in a loving home helped to ease my sadness. Mike would come and visit me about three

times a week while in hospital but did not stay long each time as his priority was fishing

not sitting in a hospital room. I discovered his new hobby was getting high as after each

31
visit with me the odour of marijuana would linger in my hospital room long after he had

left. After six weeks the doctor thought things had settled down enough to release me

from the hospital. I was looking forward to getting home and having Niki back with me

as I missed her so much. It was an overly hot day in June when Mike picked me up from

the hospital. As I sat for the thirty-minute ride home in a non-air conditioned car I felt a

layer of sweat start to trickle down my forehead and burn my eyes. I was anxious to sit

down on our dock and put my feet in the water to cool down. After 15 minutes into the

drive Mike cleared his throat and I sensed I was not going to like what he had to say. “I

have been thinking and after this baby is born you will get your tubes tied” it was a

demand not a suggestion. “Why?” I asked “because I do not want any more children” he

stated. That was it. That was how it was going to be and I did not argue. I felt like a child

being chastised and confused as all I could say was “alright”. As much as I dreamed of

having many babies this choice was no longer mine. Choices were not part of my self.

When we finally arrived at the house I hurried in to change into shorts telling Mike I

would meet him down at the dock. The phone rang as I was just getting in and it was my

mom making sure I was alright. After a minute she put Niki on the phone and I started to

cry when I heard her sweet voice. “Hi mummy!” she yelled. “Hi baby! I cried back

“Mummy misses you so much and I will see you soon, ok?” I was so excited knowing

that in a couple of days she would be back in my arms. After I hung up I made my way

out to the dock where Mike was sitting dangling his legs over the side having a smoke. I

walked past him to the end of the dock and stood there gazing up at the mountains

surrounding the lake. All of a sudden my head snapped back as I felt a hard thump in

my lower back and stumbled forward off the dock and into the lake. To my horror I

32
inhaled a mouth full water and began choking and sputtering flailing my arms trying to

grab the side of the dock. My pregnant belly felt like it was being squeezed from the

inside out as panic gripped me entirely. As I struggled to pull myself out of the water I

was confused as to what had just happened. I painstakingly pulled myself onto the dock

and looked up to see Mike just two feet away from me. He stood there laughing, holding

his stomach as if he witnessed something comical. I stared in disbelief at him realizing

he had shoved me off of the dock. “Are you insane?! I could lose this baby! I screamed.

There was no shame, no remorse in his eyes. I was staring into the eyes of lunacy.

Chapter 7 My Second Child

On July 25, 1982 my beautiful son Matthew Joseph was born. This perfect little being

that I gave life to had once again filled me with more love than I knew I was capable of. I

was blessed with a healthy little girl and a boy that god had given me. In my mind my

children completed my life as they were my all and my only true loves. I always called

Matthew “my little angel” as he was an extremely good baby that rarely fussed and had

a deep connection with his sister.

As agreed my tubes were tied minutes after Matthew was born. The euphoria of a

newborn child overrode any and all negative or sadness that I would eventually feel.

Even when I arrived home from the hospital the Davetern was set that I would be alone

as Mike’s life was not about his family but about his love of hunting, fishing and going off

to get high. I was okay with that, as less time with him gave me more time stress free

with my babies.

A few days later my mom and dad brought Niki home from Vancouver to meet her little

brother whom she adored. This little man was my angel from day one. I do not recall a

33
time that he was overly fussy or did not smile. He was such a good baby and the love

he received from myself and Niki could not compare to the love I felt back from him.

Matthew’s Crib was in my bedroom as I nursed him through the night. Niki had her

bedroom directly across the hall. Each morning I would awake to her sitting in his crib

talking to him and cuddling him. He would look at her with such adorning eyes and for

such a young little one there was a sense that he was truly communicating with her. The

two of them together were like one. I felt so blessed to have such amazing little people.

My life felt complete with my precious babies and they were the centre of my universe.

No matter how miserable Mike got with me, which happened to be on a daily basis, I

would accept that as I felt complete with my babies. I attended my daily routine of

cooking and cleaning and waiting on Mike and could overlook the criticism and

demeaning comments as my children were my world. Sadly then I did not realize that

the verbal abuse that I endured regularly would affect and impact my children even at

such a young age. But life was perfect as I knew it and I could not foresee that anything

would ever happen to upset my life. I lived in a bubble of denial for many years and

went through the motions of being a “family”. The constant verbal and physical abuse

stood still as I bathed myself in motherhood and was never happier.

The fall brought on hunting season which was all consuming and of utmost importance

to Mike. When he was not away for two days working he was out hunting with his

buddies for full days on end. It was around this time that a murder happened not far

from where we lived. A lone person broke into a home, physically and sexually

assaulted the people in the home then lit the house on fire. This was big news in our

local newspaper and fear rose as the assailant was still on the loose. During that time

34
we had been to town as a family and Mike had locked out us out of the house when we

arrived back. He was so angry that he kicked in the basement door so hard that the

framing around the door was broken and a big gaping hole replaced the wall. Also in the

basement was a wood stove that was used daily to warm our house. I was not allowed

to use the central heat for the house as it was too expensive. My job was to load the

woodstove on evenings when he was out of town as the temperature would drop to

minus 10 and below. I cannot count how many nights in between nursing Matthew and

checking on Niki I had to spend an extra half hour making sure the wood stove was full

enough to last until morning so the kids would not be cold. To add to that stress Mike

had not taken the time to fix the basement door and night after night I was terrified that

this person that was on the loose would somehow find their way to our home and kill me

and the kids when we were alone. At the 2:00am feedings as I nursed Matthew I would

be on high alert listening to any noise in the house especially if it came from the

basement where the gaping hole remained ominously beside the door. Once he fell

back to sleep I would make my way to the basement to refill the woodstove. I would

stop by the kitchen and take a sharp knife out of the drawer for my protection. It would

take me several minutes to make my way down the stairs to the woodstove as my pulse

raced and the pungent smell of fire embers lingered in the air. I was on high alert

listening for any noises that were coming from the basement. In this time I would again

pray to god to protect us from someone breaking in. That complete feeling of

helplessness and panic overtook me as it was really starting to wear me down. All of

my begging and pleading Mike to fix the door fell on deaf ears and eventually it took him

6 months to fix it. It was then that I started to come to realize that my fear of Mike was

35
deeper than I was willing to admit and his ability to emDavehize on any level was zero.

Having my babies was my solace and strength on that journey as the fear that I was

feeling was creeping deeper and deeper into my soul.

In 1983 the fall quickly faded into winter and my children perfected and helped me

tolerate my world. As I look back now I see how the jealousy fed Mike’s rages and

verbal abuse. There was a day that I had made the thirty-minute trip into town to do

Christmas shopping with Niki and Matthew. It was a typical full day shopping with a five

month old and 18 months old. Before I had left that morning Mike had informed me that

he would have to go to work in the afternoon and that he might not be there when I got

home. His job was on the railway which was a regular on call job that took him out of

town for twenty-four to thirty hours at a time.

I returned home from a six-hour day of shopping and felt very proud that I had finished

all of my shopping in one day. As I was unloading the children out of the car I heard

yelling and was not sure what was going on. As I lifted the baby from the back seat I

turned to see Mike looming on the back porch in his house coat waving his arms and

screaming at me. “You f*****ing C*****t where the hell have you been!? I missed work

because of you! I told you to call my work so see what time I had to go in! I was

dumbfounded as I stood in our driveway with the baby in one arm and bags from

shopping in the other. My heart stopped as I felt scared and guilty that again I had done

something wrong. I will never forget Niki’s little face looking up at me with fear as Mike

stood there ranting. I lowered my head as usual and accepted that I was wrong and my

day continued.

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The cold winter kept me busy inside with the kids baking and playing and reveling in

those two little souls that I was blessed with. I vaguely remember days where we were

like a normal family, but having the freedom of being alone regularly with the kids was

everything. Our days were filled with having my friends over for coffee for playdates with

the kids and going for walks around the neighbourhood. As well going into town was

my twice a month highlight in which I was allowed to spend my allotted money on

groceries. When I returned home from these outings I was to put all of the leftover

change on the table for Mike to count out just to make sure that I did not go over my

food allowance. Meanwhile he had every new gun and piece of fishing tackle that came

out as he was in charge of everything.

The winter slowly turned to spring and I was excited that I was to take a trip to

Vancouver with the kids to visit my family. I took the train down and was greeted by my

parents who adored Niki and Matthew. They set up a bedroom for the three of us and I

felt safe and secure as we settled in for the next four days. The weather was unusually

beautiful for that time of year and it allowed the kids and me to get out daily for walks in

the neighbourhood. There was a particular park that was three blocks away from mom’s

house that I remember going to with the kids. It had a swing set that consisted of a baby

swing with the seat to protect a child from falling out. I put Matthew in that swing and

Niki sat in the swing beside him. As I took turns pushing each one I will never forget the

joy of laughter that each one of them squealed. As the sun shone down on both of my

babies in that moment I felt it such a blessing to be their mother.

Our visit was coming to an end and I made arrangements for the kids to have an

overnight with Mike’s parents the night before I was to head back home

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We drove out to their house which was a good forty minute drive and I kissed my babies

and promised Niki I would see her the next day.

Chapter 8 My First Loss

On March 22nd 1983 my mom and dad had made arrangements for us to go out for a

nice dinner with some of their friends to treat me for my last night in town. We met their

friends at a restaurant in Stanley Park called the Teahouse. It was a beautiful restaurant

situated in one of Vancouver’s largest parks. Each table gave you a ceiling view of the

stars up into the night and that was a view that I will never forget. As we were waiting for

our order I got up to go to the washroom. My mind had been on the kids all night and I

was wondering how they were doing. I literally walked past the reservation desk and put

my hand on the telephone to call my mother in law and check on the kids. I decided that

they were fine and I was being silly to be concerned, after all I would see them in the

morning. When I got back to the table the conversation was lively and everyone was

having a good time. Oddly dad’s friend had made him a bet that he could not stop

talking for fifteen minutes and dad assured him that he could. My dad was always a

jokester and could keep any conversation upbeat and full of stories. So, true to his word

dad stopped talking and we sat in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Suddenly I was

overcome with a peculiar feeling that I could not put my finger on. I looked up through

the glass ceiling into the night sky and could not help but notice how bright the stars

were. They twinkled and shimmered deliberately clear and it appeared millions of them

were looking down on me. It was really quite odd how we all sat in silence for those

fifteen minutes that actually felt much longer. After dinner as we headed back towards

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mom and dad’s house, the decision was made to stop for a drink at a nearby pub. After

an hour mom and dad said that they would like to head home and their friends offered

to drop me off shortly. I agreed as I was enjoying myself and knew that I would not have

the opportunity again for a long time. The conversation touched on having our children

to what the future held for us. It was nice to have adult talk yet I was missing my kids.

Approximately fifteen minutes after mom and dad left I saw my dad come back in

through the front door. His face was as white as a sheet and the hair on the back of my

neck stood up. He grabbed my hand and said” let’s go”. I was confused as I grabbed my

purse and followed him out. “Dad, dad what is wrong?” he would not say a word to me

until we were in the parking lot at his car. He faced me squarely, put both of his hands

on my shoulders and as he looked in the eyes with a heartfelt heaviness said “Leanne,

Matthew died” I stared disbelievingly what are you saying Dad? He is not dead! I was

with him today. Dad he is not dead why are you saying this??? I was paralysed with

numbness as I did not even remember the ride back to their house. What he said just

was not registering as I played back his words over and over in my mind. When we

arrived to the house my aunt and uncle were there as they came directly to the house to

give us the news as there were no cell phones at that time. I do not remember the night

passing into the morning but it arrived with unbelievable pain as everything became

real. Apparently at approximately seven o’clock that evening, ironically the same time as

my encounter in the restaurant, Mike’s mother had put the kids to bed. She had

Matthew on a single bed close to the wall and lay him on his side to sleep. When she

checked on him one hour later he was not breathing. The ambulance was called

immediately and they worked on resuscitating his little body for forty five minutes but to

39
no avail. My little man had left this world and joined the angels in heaven. We found out

from the coroner’s office that Matthew had died from SIDS, Sudden Infant Death

Syndrome. I had heard of the term in the past and remember thinking I could not even

conceive of losing a child to such a heartbreak.

Arrangements were made for Mike to come down to Vancouver immediately to his

parent’s house where I was to meet him. When mom, dad and I arrived at their house I

raced out of the car and looking to comfort and be comforted by Mike. I looked at my

husband feeling so much sadness and walked towards him to embrace our loss. But to

my dismay he walked over to his mother and hugged her. I felt like I had been slapped

and stopped in my tracks. Were we not supposed to cling to each other in this time of

loss? Did he not want or feel the need to hug me to in this time of grief? I felt so deflated

and confused and the pain of loss overwhelmed me. I heard Niki call me “mummy” and I

snapped back to reality as I scooped her up and hugged her so hard she wriggled out of

my grasp. She placed her little hand on my cheeks and cupped my face. As she gazed

into my eyes I felt our undeniable bond as she was silently telling me she knew and

understood about Matthew. I felt comfort in that moment and overwhelming feeling of

love and sadness that she would no longer have her little brother whom she adored.

The next day my parents drove us to the morgue to identify Matthew’s body. I do not

remember arriving or leaving there but I do remember the room that held his body. The

sharpness of cold air and the smell of antiseptic permeated my nostrils as the raw stark

bareness of the room startled me into reality. A part of my brain would not comprehend

or accept that my son was in this room. As I approached the table that he was laying on

I saw his tiny body and gasped then recoiled at his lifeless form. My knees buckled and

40
I fell forward against the table. When I looked at him again he seemed much larger than

I remembered and his skin was so white. Gone were the rosy cheeks I remembered. My

instinct was to pick him up and cuddle him yet all I could do was sob. I felt like my chest

was going to rip open and my heart would fall onto the floor. The depth of that

immediate heartbreak and pain will forever be carved deep inside me. To see your

child lifeless and gone is a pain that I wish upon no one. I do not recall much from that

time to the day of the funeral but those hours will be forever etched in my heart and my

mind. I did not have the strength or presence of mind when it came to any

arrangements for the funeral, so my parents and my sister set up everything for the

service. The day of his burial arrived and I sat in the back seat as we drove into the

parking lot of the church. As we pulled in I looked out of the window and saw a set of

railings encasing a set of stairs heading down the back of the church. Looking up I saw

a large cross looming over the top of the church. I gasped in astonishment as I realized

it was the same church that I had been traumatized at years earlier. My grief intensified

as memories from that day fleetingly swept over me. As we walked through the front

door of the church we were welcomed by a woman that hugged me and placed a

crucifix in my hand squeezing it tightly. Her eyes revealed a familiar sadness as I clung

to that cross praying to god to please give me strength to get through this. I recognized

her as the mother of my brother’s friend. Sadly, she too had lost her son the year

before, her third child that she had to bury. I thought she was so brave to be sharing her

time and symDavehy despite the suffering she too must be enduring.

The church was packed with faces that were a blur as Mike, my parents and I sat in the

front pew. Again another out of body experience for the entire process. I remember

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sobbing uncontrollably throughout the service and having my dad, not my husband, his

arm around me, supporting me. Dad helped me to stand up as I made my way to the

front of the church to say my good bye to my boy. I was speechless as I looked down at

my baby boy as he lay in an open coffin.

My sister organized an open casket viewing for Matthew and chose to bury him in a little

blue sailor suit with a matching cap. I was unaware of this and was shocked when I saw

him lying there. It was surreal as he looked like he was sleeping. I thought it insensitive

to display Matthews’s body in full view and was not a decision I would make if I were of

a sound mind.

It was so dreamlike seeing his lifeless little body yet he looked so peaceful like he was

sleeping. I caught my breath with the shock that he was right in front of me, gone. There

had been no warning or discussion of how he would be buried and if there was, I had no

recollection because of the daze I was in. A few seconds into seeing him I remember

trying to scoop him into my arms. I reached into the coffin and put my arms behind his

little shoulders to lift him into me. My dad reached in to stop me and I sobbed violently

as he led me back to the pew. I do not recall the rest of the service but I do remember

being held back as they lowered the coffin into the ground. I was struggling out of my

dad’s grip hold, to grasp onto the casket before they laid it in the ground. The hours of

that day were sealed in my mind until the evening came.

My parents had a wake after the funeral at their home. I do not remember who was

there only that the small house was very crowded. I sat in the corner in an overstuffed

chair with my feet tucked under me gazing blankly around the room. I am in dire shock

barely acknowledging visitors and expressions of symDavehy. There was a small

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Daveio in the backyard that people wandered in and out of to have a smoke. I made my

way out there and was sitting on the edge of the picnic table talking to someone for

several minutes. As soon as they went back into the house I bolted out of the back

yard. The next thing that I remember was standing in the park that I had been in a few

days prior with Niki and Matthew. It was a calm still night but as I stood in front of the

swing set that that they had both sat on, the two swings moved slowly and with ease

back and forth. In that instant I knew that Matthew was letting me know that he was right

there with me. Moments later I was staggering down the middle of a street sobbing and

calling out for Matthew. My parents found me wandering aimlessly several blocks away

and called our family Doctor. In those days’ doctor’s made house calls. When he arrived

he immediately gave me a needle with a sedative and I woke up the next afternoon.

After the funeral the days were quite blurry for me however I clearly remember the

second day after the funeral when we were spending the night with Mike’s parents. We

had supper and shortly afterwards I lay down with Niki until she fell asleep. I was still in

shock that my baby would not be back and at the insistence of Mike joined him and his

parents to watch television. The discomfort of being in the same house that Matthew

had passed only days before depressed me even more. As we sat in the family room

watching a show that I had no interest in, there was a picture of Matthew on top of the

television. It was an eight by ten from Sears that I had given them a month previous. I

had taken the kids for family pictures and proudly handed them out to all of our

immediate family members. It was very difficult for me to focus on television as my

body was wracked with pain and anxiety and sitting still was unbearable. I got up to go

to the bathroom and when I returned I noticed that Matthew’s picture was no longer

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there. Immediately I thought I was seeing things and convinced myself that I did not

really see the picture there initially. About a half hour later I got up again as I found it

very hard to sit still and focus on the show. When I came back Matthew’s picture was

back on top of the TV. I was appalled that someone could be so callous and

unthoughtful. I knew that it was done purposely and I felt like I wanted to scream. When

I asked Mike’s mom why she was doing this, why was she moving Matthew’s picture off

and on the top of the TV, she merely looked at me then back to the television. There

had been challenges with Mike’s mother from day one however I just attributed the

situations to the fact that he was her only son and I had moved in on her territory. There

were rumours from family members that she was Bi-polar and schizophrenic. Many

situations over the years, led me to believe that she indeed possesses these disorders

and I was to understand they were hereditary. A few minutes later she commented with

a statement that will haunt me until I die. She said” Do you know why they put a hat on

Matthew in his casket at the funeral? I was dumbfounded by the immediate change in

conversation and the calmness in her voice. When I answered “No’ she replied “So you

would not see the scar on his head where they cut him open for the autopsy” I was

speechless. My mind was still trying to comprehend what she had just said. Could

someone actually say that in a calm voice and mean it? I immediately jumped off the

couch and ran up to the bedroom that we were sleeping in. I started to cry and buried

myself under the covers wishing everything was just a bad dream. Within five minutes

the bedroom door flew open and the lights flicked on jolting my eyes to open. I looked

up and there stood Mike and his dad glaring down at me and yelling. At first I did not

comprehend what they were saying as it was so loud and jumbled in my mind. When I

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sat up and listened to what they had to say, to say I was in shock was an

understatement. “Get up and quit your blubbering!” they yelled at me. Matthew is dead

so get over it!! He is buried six feet in the ground and never coming back! Quit your

feeling sorry for yourself!” they yelled again in unison.

Was this all real? Was this actually happening? Was Mike and his dad actually truly

oblivious to the impact of it all? This must all bad dream!

But it was not a bad dream and the reality was far too unreal and painful to be a part of.

I called my parents that night and begged them to come out the next day to pick Niki

and up and bring us to their home. Mike demanded that I stay at his parents’ house

with him and when I was adamant I was leaving then he insisted on joining us.

The next weeks flew by without much memory. What I do remember though is Mike

leaving every day to hang with his friends and get high. He said that smoking pot helped

him get through the loss and by then I had become so numb that I did not care whether

or not he was with us. A few weeks later it was time for Mike to head back home to get

to work however I decided that I wanted to stay behind with Niki and start fresh on my

own. I was twenty six years old and felt like I lived a lot longer than that. My parents as

always were loving and supportive throughout this part of my journey. They could not

have loved Niki any more than if she were their own. She and I were connected in a

way that I cannot describe. As I look back this little girl was also grieving the loss of her

little soul mate Matthew, an impact that would contribute to her pain and sorrow for the

rest of her life.

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Chapter 9 My First Hope

Niki and I lived with my parents for about three months and in that time my doctor

suggested that I receive grief counselling. I attended an outDaveient group that met at

the hospital once a week. As each one of us depicted our pain it was pointed out to me

that I was not only suffering from the loss of a child but as well from PTSD. My four

years with Mike had added domestic violence into the mix and I was told by the doctor

that I should attend ongoing sessions for a minimum of a year. I did not adhere to that

suggestion for no reason I can remember other than I wanted to move on and not

confront my loss and pain. Shortly after that I found a basement suite and Niki and I to

move into. We were only ten minutes away from Mom and Dad and they watched Niki

as I decided to work part time. I was feeling stronger and wanted to create a new life for

Niki and I however this attempt at moving forward did not seem to work. Instead I took

the easiest route and moved back in with Mike to try and become a family again. I had

succumbed to the pain of losing Matthew and felt that having a family for Niki would be

better than being alone.

I returned to the life that I was used to and things were good for a while as they usually

are after a reunion. The biggest change that I recall was Mike’s obvious control over

Niki when it went against my wishes. One day when Niki was about four years old I

recall him going out to get wood for the winter pile. He insisted that Niki go with him and

I was insistent that she stay but as usual I backed down in fear. I knew that he would be

out for the better part of the day and the fall weather was getting cooler. I worried that it

would be too much for her and as well she voiced her objection to go with him. But there

was no room for discussion as he demanded that she was going and there was nothing

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I could do to stop it. I remember her sad little face looking at me through the truck

window as he drove away. From that day forward he was insistent that she accompany

him on daily outings especially when I voiced my concerns that she stay home. In the

years that followed Mike would assert a controlling grip not only for me but for my Niki

as well. His nature was to constantly criticize anything and everything from the way food

was prepared to my opinion about anything in general. He would not hesitate to call me

a fucking bitch or tell me how stupid, fat and ugly I was on a daily basis. I look back now

and I can see the foundation was heavily laid for Niki following in a “life of dysfunction”.

My heart aches at the memories of this verbal and emotional fear that was pummeled

into myself but more stalwart to our child. In my fear of him, I rationalized that as long

as he did not physically abuse her like he did me, then we could put up with it until she

was older. Does that sound stupid or what? As I have so painfully learned the damage

that emotional and verbal abuse does to one’s mind and psyche can be and usually is

irreparable. Today my heart still burns with pain and aches with regret that my children

were witness and suffered those early years.

My next solace was to follow through with my youthful and naïve” happily ever after” to

having many babies to love. Although I was forced to have my tubes tied after Matthew

I ached for another child, not only to have a new sibling for Niki but to fulfill that maternal

hole inside of me. I saved up my tax refunds for two years and informed Mike that I was

going to have my tubal ligation reversed. This was probably my first posture at not

backing down to his demands. I wanted another child for selfish reasons and in wanting

something for me, his say did not count. Had I been of a stronger mindset not based on

fear I would have saved myself many years of heartache.

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My doctor agreed to the surgery however pointed out that I would have less than a four

percent chance of ever conceiving again. I was to learn that the fallopian tubes are

smaller than a string of spaghetti therefore having already been cut and sewn together,

to again cut and sewn back would be against all odds. So I prayed every day for and

was all consumed to fulfill my dreams of more babies.

Chapter 10 My Third Child

Thankfully God was not finished with providing me my babies as I was pregnant two

months later. On December 30 1986, I gave birth to my beautiful daughter Brigette

Elise whom I referred to as my “miracle baby”. I was in labour for two solid days and

have never experienced such intense and excruciating pain. My girlfriend Evelyn stayed

with me from the moment I went into the hospital until I gave birth to my girl. Mike was

not with me during this time and arrived only minutes before I gave birth. He was more

interested in fishing than providing emotional support for the birth of his third child. Just

when I thought I could no longer tolerate the labour pains and believed my body had

enough, I gave my final push and Brigette came screaming into this world with a set of

lungs that could that could be heard all over the maternity ward. Euphoria overwhelmed

me as I held this tiny miracle god blessed me with and to say I was elated was an

understatement. She immediately nestled into my chest and began nursing as I

caressed her tiny little head and whispered over and over “I love you”. I basked in sheer

joy those first hours comprehending that although god had called my Matthew home, he

in turn blessed me once again with this perfect little being. As she lay contentedly on my

chest her little body rising with each breath she took I would inhale that perfect scent

that only a newborn can impart. Mike stayed only briefly after her birth and I was content

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to be alone in the hospital room just the two of us. That sacred time with my precious

newborn saw whispered promises that I would love and protect her for always. I fiercely

believed having a baby was an honor to be cherished and as a mother it was my

relentless duty to shield her from harm’s way. In those quiet moments together I

promised her I would. Three days later when I brought Brigette home Niki was drawn

instantly to her new little sister and once more my life seemed complete. As I settled

back into routine I was again a prisoner albeit content, to accept the incessant stress

and sadness that only those in an abusive relationship can know. My only joy and

reason for being were these perfect and loving children that I was blessed with. One

day while nursing Brigette I had one of my first visions of what I believed to be an angel.

I looked up and saw a white manifestation hovering in the doorway three feet from

where I sat and instinctively knew it was Matthew. This feeling of calm and peace drew

over me like a warm blanket enveloping both Brigette and I. After that day Matthew’s

presence was with me regularly. I knew his unseen yet formidable energy hovered in

the house daily protecting myself and the girls. Niki was the epitome of a perfect big

sister as her love and attention to Brigette never diminished. As young as fourteen

months Brigette was a precocious child that never sat still and Niki was constantly

running after her, trying to keep up. The girls were inseparable. Niki was a natural little

mommy always eager to help change diapers and feed Brigette. Our bedtime ritual was

always the same as Niki would recite her bedtime prayers with Brigette. She would

crawl into the crib and sit beside her and as she held her little hands she would

encourage Brigette to close her eyes. Niki would then recite her prayer “Now I lay me

down to sleep”. Brigette was always quiet during this time as if she understood how

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important it was for Niki. I was always moved by Niki’s depth of connection and her

deep love for her baby sister. One day I was making cookies with the girls and Niki had

pulled a chair up to the counter to lean against while Brigette sat contentedly on the

counter mashing the dough with her little fingers. I turned around and made my way

over to the fridge for eggs when I heard a piercing scream from Niki and heard a loud

zapping noise. I quickly turned around and to my horror smoke was wafting out of an

outlet and Brigette sat there holding a fork that was blackened from the tip to her hand.

Niki started crying and Brigette sat there and smiled. It did not even faze or upset her!

Fearlessness was a strong characteristic that was imbedded in her nature.

Chapter 11 My Fourth Child

Looking in from the outside world, our lives continued on and we established a daily

monthly and yearly routine that was apparently normal for people in our circle of friends

but the atmosphere in our home was of perpetual tension, apprehension and anxiety.

The days that I was physically abused were kept secret from my family and friends.

After all I had made my bed had I not?

Two years later I found out I was again pregnant and could not contain my excitement.

But this was in a polar opposite effect to Mike’s reaction. He was furious and was very

vocal in his feelings. I mustered enough courage as I stood at the kitchen sink making

coffee and hesitantly told him that I was pregnant again. No sooner were the words out

of my mouth then his hand came out of nowhere slapped my face so hard my ears were

ringing. He then began to shake me and threw me up against the fridge. He demanded

that I have an abortion immediately then stormed out of the house and did not return

until late that evening.

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I lay sobbing on the floor for what seemed hours but was determined to protect and

provide my girls and this unborn child in any possible way I could. The only problem

with this picture was that I was too intimidated and frightened to leave him and create a

healthy and balanced life for my girls. There were so many times that I wanted to leave

the relationship but how could I. Who would want me? The daily ritual of condemnation

and criticisms resonated powerfully into my psyche. But deep in my heart, in that

fragment deep in my soul I knew that one day I would have the courage to leave. That

would come much later, but I felt deep sorrow as the damage had been done and would

take years to eradicate. As I would learn on this journey, emotional damage consumes

our whole being to a state of numbing oblivion and emotional damage is a monster that

rears its ugly head in every aspect of our lives and I was no exception.

On December 13, 1986 I gave birth to my beautiful Samantha Grace. As with previous

births I was alone in the hospital during my labour and my girlfriend Evelyn was there

again there to support me and talk me through the labour. Fortunately my labour was

not as long or as intense as before, giving me a reprieve from the familiar pain of

lengthy labour. After six hours I felt a wave of intense movement and I was suddenly

frightened as this feeling was like no other I had experienced. The doctor informed me

that Samantha had decided to do a somersault and transitioned her little body with her

head facing down. Immediately an emergency C-section was performed and within

minutes I felt my breath catch as the doctor lay a perfect little girl into my arms.

Overwhelmed with love and amazement I hugged Samantha tightly thanking God again

for this beautiful blessing. I reasoned that even though my life was challenging with

Mike, God was always near and provided me with many blessings. Once more I was

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stirred by deep emotions as I gazed into the eyes of another precious baby girl. I would

snuggle my Sammy and lay kisses on the crown of her perfect little head as she lay

nursing. In the quiet of our small room, the eager and content suckling sounds would

make me feel complete. Throughout my recovery time Mike came by maybe twice to

visit during my week long stay. I even had friends pick myself and my baby up from the

hospital when we were released as Mike was too busy. I will never forget the first time

he came to see Samantha. As we walked to the nursery he calmly stated that I was to

have a Daveernity test to prove that Samantha was his. It was like he hit me hard in the

stomach. How on earth could he even remotely believe that this was not his child? I was

dumbfounded that he would even contemplate she was not his. I was to later learn that

his suspicions were a direct result of his own transgressions.

Now back at home life resumed to my normal with my three girls. As always peace

and happiness only emanated in our home when Mike was away at work. The

heaviness of anxiety and upheaval fell all around us when he was home.

Chapter 12 My First Attempt to Defy

The girls were growing and it was very important to me that I get them baptized as I had

been. I felt it would be an integral part of their beginning and as a result the blessing

from god would protect them throughout their lives. .

When they became adults they could choose whichever if any religion that felt spoke to

them but at least I could offer a foundation. Niki had just turned eight, Brigette was two

and Sammy six months old when I started to take the girls to church.

Church was a good forty five minute ride into town the girls relished our outing as much

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as I did. Those Sunday outings were not only an escape but an opportunity for me to

become reconnected with my faith and share that with my girls. As I walked into

the church I felt an undeniable sense of peace overcome me and all feelings of

fear and sadness vanished. We would sit in the front pews, the girls in awe at the

stained glass windows and beautiful paintings of Jesus and the angels. I finally

mustered the courage to tell Mike that I will be taking the girls to church regularly to

provide a basis of spirit within them. He grabbed my arm and pulled my face

up close to his. “If you take the kids to f***** church then I will divorce you”. His tone was

flat, his eyes unwavering and I was afraid. My immediate thought was he will leave

me and I am not strong enough to be on my own. We did not go back to church.

Chapter 13 The Signs Were There

Country life was simple living in a small community. Every day with my girls was filled

with swimming all summer growing vegetables in the garden, visiting with girlfriends

daily and having play dates with our kids. My sister and her husband moved their family

up into the same area as us. Although we were eighteen months apart in reality we

were light years apart. She would visit me periodically but never passed up the

opportunity to tell me that her children were better than mine and she was a better

parent. I ignored the hurtful comments and rationalized that she was family and I would

have to put up with it. I determined that our disputes in earlier years had not changed in

her mind. I was sad that although my sister lived down the street, there was an ongoing

strained relationship that would never grow close again.

Shortly after my sister moved up, my brother and his wife Kathy also bought property

down the street from us. I felt fortunate that they would raise their three girls, Karly,

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Kandice and Kelly who were all in the same age range as my girls, so close to us. It was

wonderful to have that family connection so close to home. The girls would spend many

years together as playmates and school mates. To my surprise and much happiness my

mom and dad bought the property with a small cabin right next door, not long

afterwards. They spent most of their summers and visits throughout the winters creating

and building a strong relationship with their granddaughters. The girls loved to have

“Nana and Poppa” visit and they would race over to their front door waving eagerly as

they pulled into the driveway. My parents too welcomed their young energy and basked

in the love and attention spending hours and hours together. Mike was not keen on my

parents coming up but I did not care, as I was happy when he was either working or off

fishing during their visits. I felt blessed that my girls would also be impacted by a loving

relationship with their grandparents, and they were.

In the winter I would go down once a month to Vancouver to see an eye surgeon. I have

glaucoma and had surgery on both eyes. I was required to be checked monthly. It was

an exciting time for the girls and I to take the train to Vancouver on these trips. But

mostly it was a reprieve from the systematic yelling and stress that we endured daily. I

also realized after each trip, when I returned, that my life was not normal. We only had

one vehicle and I was only allowed to drive into town once a week to buy groceries. I

would pack up the girls each Saturday and make a day of it and that became the

highlight of our month.

One time when I went to the coast I had an appointment on a Friday and left Niki at

home with Mike for the weekend so she would not miss that day of school. When I

returned I sensed something in the air but could not put my finger on it. Niki was about

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nine at the time and was very quiet yet stayed close to me for several days. She was a

little whiny and clingy and could not tell me what was wrong after I questioned her

several times. When I asked Mike if something happened when I was gone to upset

Niki, to my surprise he broke down and started to cry. I was shocked wondering

whatever could be wrong. He said to me “when you were gone Niki came into my bed

and climbed on top of me. She told me to do to her what you do with Mummy” He

started to cry harder and I was stunned, I could not fathom or register in my head what

this meant. I asked Niki about it and she just replied “yes mommy I did that.” But that

was as far as the conversation went from either Mike or Niki. Sexual abuse was not

even something that I could fathom let alone conceive. I believed that I had done

something wrong by maybe not locking the bedroom door at some time in the past. It

did not even occur to me to consider that a father would hurt or abuse his own daughter.

I could not even begin to grasp the concept as it was something so foreign to my way of

thinking. So I continued to stay in a relationship that silently concealed poison and

devastation. Later as I look back I did not recognize the process of how Mike

manipulated and forced her to always accompany him when he went fishing or went for

firewood, spending long hours alone with her away from me. He wielded control over

me by ignoring my plea’s and her admission of not wanting her to spend long hours

away from home. The saving grace was a family friend with a daughter Niki’s age and

she would invite her over many weekdays after school as well as many weekends. They

were like a second family to Niki as they had six kids and treated her as though she

were one of them. I was secretly relieved that Niki would have a reprieve from the

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I had taken the train with the girls to Vancouver for my yearly eye exam. When we

returned home Mike was not there to pick us up. I called the house but there was no

answer so I called a girlfriend who kindly picked up the girls and I to take us home.

When I walked in the front door my jaw dropped. There was a huge gaping hole in the

wall between the hallway and the kitchen. The gyprock was smashed and crumbled in a

heap on the floor and wires hung haphazardly. The size of the hole in the wall was the

length of the whole room. Two minutes later Mike came waltzing in the back door with

his fishing rod in his hand. “Did you forget to pick us up?” I asked. “Yeah I did but I knew

you could get a ride home” I felt deflated at his uncaring statement. The girls stood

silently beside me looking surprised at the hole in the wall. “Why did you smash the wall

out” I asked. He replied” I am renovating” he said simply and walked away. I let a long

breath out and slumped forward in defeat. I knew that the wall would remain untouched

for a long time and like our relationship would never find the right pieces to reconnect it

as one.

Chapter 14 The Courage to Leave

After twelve years of an incredibly dysfunctional and harried life I summoned up the

courage and arrived at the full realization that I no longer loved Mike not even a bit. To

take that step and finally leave this man who had impacted my life so cruelly and

showed zero respect for myself and my children was paramount to my unending

journey. After years of belittlement, emotional, verbal and physical abuse the brain and

the heart says stop! There was no intimacy there was no affection, my children were my

life period. It was time to interrupt that painful phase of my life and move forward.

Shortly after I left Mike I was informed by many friends that every time he went to work

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he would hook up with a different woman almost every trip. Apparently everyone knew

but me. I did not even suspect that he would fool around. Again naivety! A particular

friend warned him that he could easily pass on a disease to me but that did not seem to

faze him and he continued to have affairs for many years. Even though I had started a

new life and felt absolutely nothing for this man I could not help to feel so hurt and

betrayed that someone would do that to me. That hurt was a startling revelation that

would continue several more times as my naivety remained rooted. I now understand

that naivety was part and parcel of who I was. It was not a chosen attribute, it just was.

When I finally grew so weary and tired of constantly being unhappy I found the courage

to inform Mike I would be leaving permanently once and for all. I was not surprised

when he appeared indifferent as I had threatened many times in the past and had not

followed through. Over the next two weeks my personal belongings and kids toys

overflowed in boxes that and were strewn in various rooms in the house. Each day I

would accomplish more packing and the reality was settling in for both of us that I would

indeed be moving out permanently. My determination and focus had not gone unnoticed

by Mike as his demeanor softened realizing I was not backing down. I had a newfound

strength that resonated in my voice and my body language.

The day arrived when I was to move out with the girls and into an apartment in town. It

was on a Saturday afternoon and I had the rental truck loaded in the driveway. I had

maintained a calm and consistent posture of not backing down about leaving. He knew

that I had finally reached my breaking point and I would no longer stay in the house with

him so with a sigh of frustration he agreed to help me move.

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Mike had helped me load up the truck with a little furniture, the kid’s beds and clothes

and toys. I was intent on a fresh start and was not concerned about material things.

Mike started to look a little panicked realizing we would soon be gone and a forced

niceness appeared with the intention to woo me back into that darkness. But I would not

ever let that happen again. I had everything packed up and took one last look around to

make sure I had not missed anything. This is it I thought, I am finally breaking free from

this world of chaos and turmoil. My right foot stepped onto the front porch and I froze for

just a split second. I followed through taking my final step out of that house and

simultaneously felt a surge of fear and excitement consume my body. As I exhaled the

tightness in my chest evaporated. Every ounce of fear and anger that had smouldered

deep within me vanished, I finally released myself from the chains of misery and this

was to be the end of ongoing tears, blatant fear and ongoing anxiety. This was the

moment that I never dreamed possible for my girls and myself. I promised them and

myself that our lives would “never” be touched by this type of dysfunction and heartache

again. Deep inside I knew that life would become better if I kept pushing forward.

Those twelve years lay a foundation for future pain, torment and grief that affected both

my girls and myself. The journey that became mine and the valuable lessons that

brought me to my knees causing sorrow and anguish would eventually exhaust me. I

realized in healthy relationships there is a clarity and mutual respect among the couple

so that when either is unhappy problems are addressed. Yet in a toxic relationship the

more dominant possesses a warped ability to emasculate the other party. This in turn

creates an immense powerlessness that strips away ones dignity and self-respect. The

latter was me.

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I found a two bedroom apartment in town for the girls and me. I slept in the living room

on a pull out couch so Brigette and Sammy could share a room and Niki could have her

own room. To my excitement I found and enrolled Niki into a private Catholic school that

was just down the street. I got a job as a cashier at a local retail store and my life finally

felt near perfection. I would gather the girls up and drop them off at daycare in the

afternoon and would pick them up around eleven o’clock after my shift. I remember

many nights carrying my baby Sammy to car while Niki and Brigette held hands with

sleepy eyes trailing behind me. My dad had given me an old Chevy as I had no vehicle.

The winters in our city could be very cold and as there was no heat in the car, the girls

and I all bundled up, would sing songs on the way to daycare to get our minds off the

cold. I remember distinctly Niki asking “Mommy will we always be cold?” and I

confidently answered “no honey mommy will get us a new car really soon with heat and

a radio, I promise you that!” The girls squealed with laughter and excited at the prospect

of a warm car. I was steadfast in my desire to make our dream come true so we would

have the perfect life.

Mike remained in our lives and I reasoned that as the girls were his too and that it was

important to maintain that relationship as I never saw him physically assault them, only

me. The contribution of repeated tears and “I am sorry” from Mike after I moved out

unfortunately did soften my detachment towards him. As I learned from other single

moms that seemed to be the norm of a lot of abusive ex-husbands. When we as women

are the abused, somehow after we have broken free the tables turn and the abusers

become the victims. They break down our defences and we feel that we are the “bad”

ones for taking the children and leaving them alone. So I was the understanding and

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compassionate wife that signed over the house to him so he would have a place for the

kids to visit. Today he sits on a million dollar home with more toys than the average

man. That was definitely a valuable lesson learned. But to be quite honest having my

peace of mind and sanity is definitely worth far more than fighting for a house or

material things.

Chapter 15 My Trust was Crushed

I thought that life would move to the next plateau and felt confident that the girls and I

were on an upward Daveh. One day the doorbell rang and when I looked out the

peephole I saw an unfamiliar women standing in my hallway. I opened the door and

immediately the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I felt a nagging fear that I could

not put my finger on. The woman introduced herself as a social worker stating there had

been a complaint of abuse from me to my children. I was dumbfounded! I had never laid

a hand on my kids and loved them more than life itself. How could anyone ever accuse

me of hurting my children? I led her into the living room where we both sat and she

explained that her duty was to investigate me and the surroundings of my home. I

immediately teared up and told her that she was given false information. The girls

quickly came to my side and started hugging me asking why I was so sad. After a

twenty minute visit the social worker declared that she felt there were no grounds to

continue the investigation and in a symDavehetic voice told me the girls and I would be

fine. When she left I stood in the hallway flabbergasted trying to comprehend what just

happened. How could anyone ever accuse me of hurting my children? I found out later

that Mike did indeed call Social Services but also my sister Cindy was part of the

instigation as she also called with her statement that I was abusing my children. I was

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absolutely saddened and devastated that own my sister would do such a thing. I knew

her and I had our misgivings over the years but for a family member, your own blood to

turn on you in such a contemptable way that hit a breaking point in my heart. After that

day I had a changed perspective of my sister and never again felt a connection to her. I

forgave her but would never desire to have her as a part of my life again. It would be

many years before we would face each other again.

I applied for a job in Vancouver at the Head office of my store the local retail store I was

working in. Vancouver was where I was born and raised and my family was all there.

What better place to start anew and raise my girls, plus I was still afraid of having Mike

in my life. I accepted the position with much excitement and hope of a new beginning. It

was one day shortly after I had announced my big news the girls came home from visit

with Mike. I was informed that Niki who was twelve at the time would no longer be living

with me as she has decided to move back in with Mike. I was surprised and questioned

her why she would not want to stay with her sisters and me. She claimed that all of her

friends were back there and that she was happier with her dad. This ruse that Mike had

created with Niki had nothing to do with happiness and everything to do with his false

stories about me. It was during this time and for many years later that Niki confessed so

many untruths he had told her that I cannot even remember the number. Everything

from ‘mom loves the other two girls more than you to your mom has mental problems”

And being so young and vulnerable Niki believed the stories. What I learned was that

children are affected far more by separation of parents than the parents themselves.

They are so vulnerable that if a parent is negative and or unbalanced they can transfer

that destructive mind set onto the child causing deep psychological damage.

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I was panicked as I had accepted the new position and was packing up to move about

three hundred and fifty miles away from there. Niki was twelve years old at the time and

was quite adamant that she wanted to move back with Mike. As I revisit this time in my

life I see now how the manipulation of children can be done so effortlessly. I was

worried about leaving her yet I thought he was her father and she would be safe. As bad

as he was to me he could never be that bad to her. Could he? But more importantly I

had another intuitive deep feeling inside, that regardless of whether I moved or not that

she would be back with me sooner than later. We had a deep bond and connection that

I knew would override this decision of her staying. I also knew that Mike was very

manipulative and her young mind was very vulnerable to the control but she would

eventually recognize this element.

Chapter 16 Starting Again

I moved to back to Vancouver in the spring of 1992 when Brigette was five and Sammy

was three. I found a three bedroom townhouse knowing that Niki would be living with us

soon and it was near schools and transit. I was actually very blessed with our new

surroundings and was anxious to start my new job and make preparations for Niki to

join us. We spoke on the phone every other day when she was at her friend’s house as

Mike would not comply to my calling her when he was home.

When he was away to work for several days a week Niki would stay with her girlfriend

and her family and they were very fond of her.

After a few months of Niki staying with them I received a phone call from the mother of

Niki’s best friend. I was told that the verbal and mental abuse that Niki was receiving

from Mike had escalated and they were frightened for her well-being. We arranged to fly

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Niki down to Vancouver the next day after Mike left for work. My heart was so relieved

that Niki was coming back to her sisters and me yet I was still under the invisible power

of fear at what Mike would do when he realized she had left. Once back with me and

Niki was safe and sound I was right as his intimidating and nasty voice mails along with

his threats became a regular part of my life. However they did cease as time went on

and the girls and I fashioned a happy and peaceful life that was a relief to all of us.

Once settled Niki confided that the verbal and emotional abuse she endured while living

with Mike became a habitual daily occurrence. His verbal abuse and cruelty had

overstepped so many boundaries that my heart broke hearing what she went through.

One particular incident that Niki recounted to me made me shudder and feel physically

sick. On an afternoon after school she said Mike took her to the basement and had her

sit on a chair up against the window. He then place a loaded shotgun in her hand and

demanded that she shoot a neighbour’s dog that had been coming into their yard.

“Mommy I did not want to do it but he made me” and then she sobbed her body

shuddering in pain. As I looked down at my daughter I felt so much pain at what I had

left her to. I reasoned now she was safe again with me but it did not go unnoticed and

recognized that he had replaced me with Niki with his toxic and dysfunctional tirades.

Niki’s childhood from aged five forward was shaped by intermittent abuse that bore into

her soul and would not be healed until she left this earth.

The girls embraced this new life being all together with exuberance and love. The

weekends were always full of outings to the nature park, birthday parties with friends,

the family gatherings with my parents, Nana and Poppa who adored my girls and the

continuous flow of children in and out of our house making it a home. This was how a

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life blessed with children was supposed to be, simple and full of love. Our weekends

were also filled with the girls flourishing particiDaveing in their baseball teams,

gymnastics and swimming and me proudly clapping at each practice.

The next two years were probably the best we had seen in many past. As I think back to

that time I vividly recall much laughter, love and warmth. I would drop the girls off at

school in the morning and head five minutes down the street to my office where I was

enjoying the role of receptionist for a local company. After my eight hour day I would

pick the girls up from their daycare that was held adjacent to their school and they

would excitedly talk over each other telling me about their day. I made supper from

scratch every night except Fridays as that was our special night to get Pizza and watch

movies. Our weekends were always filled with outings to parks, swimming and movies.

Every other week I would take each of the girls separately for a mommy and daughter

lunch. I would pick them up from school and we would go to McDonalds and eat lunch

together in the playground, spending one on one time together. Back in the 1990’s

McDonalds was a big deal. This was one of our highlights of spending quality time

together that remains an affectionate memory for myself as well as all three of my girls.

The girls were settled in their new schools, they were all involved in various sports and

my new job was like a dream. My girls filled my life with perfection and gratitude.

I had reconnected with some old friends and created new friendships with my work

colleagues. One of my colleagues Mark, became a good friend and eventually we

started dating. He was ten years younger than me and from our conversations I

assumed he came from a close family. I determined that because he was Italian and still

lived at home his family values were strong and solid. I justified that he loved and

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respected his mother therefore he would be the same way with me and be a great role

model for the girls. He did not appear to possess the temper and harsh words that I had

grown accustomed to in my previous marriage. Actually he appeared to be the opposite

and I relished the thought of a calm and peaceful life to build with my children. He would

dote on the girls and show Daveience with each situation that occurred. The girls took to

him right away as his sense of humour and laid back attitude fit into our life. His childish

ways enthralled the girls and I misread these actions as display saved for the girls not a

true part of his nature. He lived at home with his parents and would spend weekends

with the girls and I hanging out and creating new father/child bonds with each of the

girls. We would spend every Sunday afternoon with his family enjoying a large Italian

lunch that consisted of many courses. His family was a little hesitant at first as their son

had an instant family but as time went on there appeared to be an acceptance on their

part. These were times spent together the girls and I looked forward to extending our

family. Mark moved in with the girls and I about year after we started dating and as time

moved on we discussed the possibility of marriage down the road. My main desire was

and always had been to establish a strong family unit, a healthy family with the balance

of a mother and father figure that would make them feel safe and secure. Not a toxic

environment that we had been submerged in for so long.

Chapter 17 My Second Marriage

Shortly after our first year together I became pregnant. I went to the doctor and he

insisted that I have amniocentesis as I was thirty six years old and considered high risk.

Amniocentesis is a test during which your doctor takes a small sample of amniotic fluid

from around your baby. This fluid contains some of your baby’s cells which hold

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essential genetic information. This sample is then checked for any chromosomal

abnormalities.

I recall agreeing however not being overly concerned. It was a sunny Monday morning

in early March when I arrived to the Doctor’s office. I remember sitting before the Doctor

and his face was quite serious as he cleared his throat and began. “The test came back

and there are two important things to tell you” he said. I was a little surprised by his

stern look as he continued. “I must inform you that you are having another girl and

unfortunately this baby has Down syndrome, you have two weeks to decide whether to

keep this baby or have an abortion”. I was alarmed by his curt manner however I did not

skip a beat when I replied “God gave me this baby for a reason, I am not going to abort

her because she is not perfect by societies’ standards”. “Very well” he said I will connect

you to the Down Syndrome Society for support”. My pregnancy was no different from

the last four pregnancies and I was overjoyed with happiness for my daughter to come

into the world. Mark on the other hand did not seem as excited when he found out she

had Down syndrome. I sat all of the girls down and explained that their new sister was

going to be a special baby. The fact that she had Down syndrome was only a small part

of who she was. The girls were excited and looking forward to their new little sister that

would be with them soon. I did not however receive such enthusiasm from other family

members and friends. People were actually shocked that I would choose to keep the

baby due to her “affliction” as it was referred to. I recall a close friend had called me

specifically to discuss the pregnancy. “Do you know what you are getting yourself into?

This baby will cause you years of grief and challenges. You are better off to abort than

keep this child” I responded “I am keeping her and it is not even a topic to discuss.”

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That conversation determined the fate of my friendship with her. I could not in all

honesty befriend someone whose beliefs differed so drastically from mine. And there

were many other comments and advices from others but all fell on deaf ears with me.

Our household took on more energy after Mark had moved in with the girls and I could

see the pleasure the girls took in having a positive male influence in the house. The

strong feeling of family connection was above all else in my life and I revelled in seeing

my girls happier than they had been for a while. We would continue to attend his

parents’ home each Sunday for an afternoon brunch and I was pleased that we had

such a close knit family with both his parents and mine. I always sensed a slight

animosity from his mother but I decided to not let it affect me as it did not seem to

concern Mark. When I did bring up the obvious disapproval Mark told me she was just

jealous as he was her only son and dismissed any further conversation of her feelings.

That made sense to me so I discounted her obvious glares from time to time. I did not

recognize the strong bond between him and his mother until the last month of my

pregnancy. Mark and I made a trip to visit his parents for a while the girls were in

school one day. As we sat in the kitchen chatting while his mother was making lunch,

out of the blue Mark broke down crying. Instantly his mother rushed over to him and

started hugging him his dad and my mouth drop open in surprise. We were both

shocked at the sudden outburst. Mark cried “Mom my baby is sick, my baby is sick what

should I do?” Immediately his mother started to sob as well and started speaking in

Italian obviously so I could not make out what she was saying. Mark’s dad looked at

them both and shook his head and rolled his eyes in disapproval but did not say one

word. I sat at the kitchen table watching this unfold and could not believe it was

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happening. I was stunned by the obvious negative emotion regarding my unborn baby

and I was a little perturbed by their actions. The connection between Mark and his

mother went far deeper than he ever let on. From that day forward she never smiled at

me again. We had a small family wedding that consisted of around twenty five people.

My girls were thrilled to have a daddy in their life again and a new little sister on the

way. I was six months pregnant with Isabella and was thankful my life was moving in a

positive direction for the girls and I.

Isabella Angelina came into this world on December 13, 1997. She was my perfect

and beautiful sweet girl. Not once during my pregnancy was I fearful of giving birth to

this child. I had an inner calmness throughout my pregnancy that others did not seem to

understand and I was constantly questioned how I would handle having a child “like her”

as well questioned why I would not have an abortion. I sensed more fear in others than I

did in myself. I quickly learned that people truly were frightened of things they did not

understand. I recall the day after Bella was born the nurse came into the room to do the

Heel Stick screening. That is when the baby's heel is pricked to collect a sample of

blood for newborn screening. As she poked the needle in Bella’s little heel, drawing

blood Isabella started to cry. The nurse seemed very unconcerned that Bella was

feeling this needle and stared blankly at my baby until she was done. I panicked seeing

my baby in pain. I told the nurse that she was being too forceful and that she was

obviously hurting Bella. “You don’t have to worry, these babies don’t feel anything” she

replied. My jaw dropped and my mind came to a standstill. I could not believe that she

actually seemed to believe what she was saying. I was speechless as she put a Band-

Aid on Bella’s’ heel turned and strutted out of the room. I think it took me a full two

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minutes to really comprehend what just happened. As I looked into my baby’s eyes I

held her tighter and silently promised her that no one would ever hurt her again. Those

first days in hospital with Isabella were magical. All of the disapproving and negative

comments that I had heard during my pregnancy vanished as I nursed and held my little

girl. I guess in the back of my mind I was expecting a baby that would be physically

different but that was not the case at all. As I counted her ten little fingers and ten little

toes I knew I was blessed with this unflawed perfect little person.

Chapter 18 My Fifth Child

Niki, Brigette and Sammy were thrilled to have a new baby sister. In their eyes Bella, or

Bubba, as they named her was the perfect addition to their world. They would argue

who got to hold her first and would proudly encourage their friends to come and visit.

At three months old Bella was diagnosed with a VSD. A ventricular septal defect is a

hole in the heart and is a common heart defect that's present at birth. She required open

heart surgery at Children’s Hospital in Vancouver. I was still nursing her throughout the

night and would spend many tearful feedings singing “You are my Sunshine” up until the

day of the surgery. As it turned out she contacted an infection and we spent two months

in ICU.I still can see that tiny little body covered with so many tubes and needles

attached to her. It was pretty overwhelming to consider that there was a possibility that I

could lose another baby. I prayed from the time I awoke to each night falling asleep.

Each morning of those days Bella was in hospital I would get the girls up and off to

school daily. Once they were on their way I would head into Children’s Hospital where I

would sit for hours on end talking to Bella, telling her how much she was loved and

praying for her to be well. Just before supper time I would head home and make supper

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while catching up with each of the girl’s day at school. After supper I would head back

into the hospital and sit with Bella until around nine thirty in the evening then back home

to get some sleep.

We were so blessed to have an amazing group of doctors and nurses work with us at

Children’s Hospital. Not only were they kind and informative they were also uplifting to

myself and other parents that I saw there with their children. There was a day in

particular that a child across the room from Bella was living her last hours. She was

about four years old and her little body lay swollen in a bed that looked oversized. I

went over to her and as I looked done at her my heart was broken with a parent’s pain

and sadness as the little girl was in the final stages of Cancer. I could not conceive how

such a tiny body could be afflicted with such impact. I prayed for this little girl and gave

thanks to God for my blessings. Two days later I saw the family arrive and the curtains

enveloped the family as they said their good-byes. I could hear the sobs and felt that

pain extend across the room. The mother’s anguished cries cut into me with a familiar

aching that I did not like to welcome. I looked down at my girl and asked God to do

everything in his power to help her get well. My prayers were answered we were

released from hospital a few weeks later. Another blessing of the many I would receive

in my life.

Chapter 19 My Sixth Child

With Bella on the mend happy family life resumed once again and the next few years

were full loving memories with my girls. Our days were constantly full of running from

one sport after another after school ended each day. I made sure that all of the older

girls were enrolled in activities after school and on weekends and they flourished. The

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girls loved to have their baby sister Bella sitting in the side lines with mommy as they

would be so proud to show her off to all of their friends. It did not make one bit of

difference that she had Down syndrome. The fact that she was so darn cute and always

smiling was enough for all of her older sisters to be proud of her. I did a lot of reading

and research on Down syndrome and felt it important to share how the different

milestones of her life might be different than that of other children her age. While at

school my girls discovered how some children could be cruel when it came to Bella but I

always explained that they were not taught any different and we should be Daveient and

try to create awareness that Bella is really not that different. After our discussions the

girls would come home and happily tell me stories of how they would talk to their friends

about Bella so they could understand. I was proud of my girls for having compassion

and insight at such young ages. Eventually as a result of my various volunteering for

children with special needs, I was fortunate to be elected to the Board of Directors for

the Down Syndrome Society. I was given the opportunity to share with new mothers of

children with Down syndrome, how “your child is special regardless of the diagnosis”.

Life was indeed good and it was not uncommon to find at least three to four other kids

from the neighborhood hanging out at our house as my girls were very social and had

many friends. I called the weekends at our house “grand central station” as it was

always full of laughter and activity resulting in the never ending sleep overs at our

house. I did not believe I could be any more complete when I found out I was once

again pregnant, I was actually ecstatic! Because I was now aged forty, my doctor again

emphasized that I have Amniocentesis but I did not mind as I knew no matter what the

test relayed I would keep my baby. I was to learn this pregnancy would not deliver a

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child with Down syndrome and I was unconcerned. Once more I was blessed with

another beautiful baby girl. Gabrielle Francesca was delivered via C section on

November 17, 1997. She was not too happy coming into the cool room from her warm

and safe womb. But once on my breast I felt her strong connection and love.

Instinctively I knew this beautiful little girl would be the last child to come out of my body.

Our time spent in hospital was only two days yet I was so immersed in her little

perfection it felt like two weeks. Again I would whisper over and over how much she was

loved and felt an unseen attachment and bond with her immediately. My little Gabby

was welcomed enthusiastically by her four older sisters that adored and loved her. She

was and continued to be my baby as she cried when anyone besides myself tried to

hold her. She was like a little china doll so petite and attached to her mummy.

Once back home we settled into a routine and when Gabby was sixteen months I was

content to be at home with my girls and run a family daycare. It was the perfect solution

to working outside the house. I was home before and after school for the older girls and

had playmates for Bella and Gabby. In this family dynamic the girls were so loved and

loved each other I never dreamed that life could be any other way. Especially after we

all went through so much in the past. The next few years went by with little if any

challenges as we all settled into our daily life. I could never imagine living with the

ongoing stress and tension that I had endured for those twelve years with Mike. The fact

that I had surrendered to that way of life and never felt worthy of anything or anyone

made me cringe at the thought.

Chapter 20 The Signs Became Reality

Mike had continued to connect with me sporadically insisting that he be a part of the

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girl’s lives. Even though I had a court order for sole custody of the girls there was a

provision that he did spend time with them every other weekend. Niki was sixteen now

and at the age where her friends were her life and was not so interested in devoting her

weekends to visiting with Mike. Brigette had turned nine that year and Sammy, two

years younger were getting ready for their weekend with Mike. I recall the day in the

summer of 1995 when he had come to pick them up. He had transferred to Vancouver

for the summer and was living in a trailer about 15 minutes away from our home. That

particular day Sammy clung onto my leg and pleaded with me to let her stay home. It

was in that moment that Mike barked at me “she is coming with me, I have a court

order” and my insides froze. It was like stepping back in time to the old me, the

frightened me. I felt a fear grip me and I could not shake it. I spoke lovingly to Sammy

and assured her I would be right here when she came home. I said “you and Brigette

will have fun honey”. More words to haunt me in the future. These weekends continued

throughout the summer and when Mike moved back to his home three hundred and fifty

mile away the visitations became scarcer.

After two years of running the Daycare in my home, Mark’s moods overall were up and

down and he started to complain he was tired of all the extra kids in our house. Time

had proven his Daveience with my girls was waning. Brigette was the most attached to

him as I saw a father figure was integral to her needs and she would go out of her way

to gain his attention with negative or positive behavior. There was a direct correlation

between his shutting her out and her anger although it did not occur to me at the time.

Soon afterwards I closed down the Daycare and found a job close to home working in

an office. I made arrangements for Bella and Gabby to attend daycare and once again

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focused on running a smooth household. Mark maintained his job that he had when we

met and with less kids in the house life seemed stress free for a while.

I was sitting at my desk one morning when I received a phone call from Sammy’s

school. The principle informed me that she had drawn three pictures of her and her dad

from the summer visits. All three pictures were of Mike in the same bed as her laying on

top of her. My heart stopped and I almost dropped the phone. I thought I was going to

throw up in that moment. The principle stated that I was to meet her and police officers

at my home in a half hour. It was after school and Niki had arrived home first. I raced

out of the office to home and was greeted by all three girls, three police officers and two

social workers. That day will burn forever in my mind. It was surreal as I stood facing all

three girls sitting on the couch. Each one recounted how they had been touched

inappropriately. Each time one of the girls spoke it felt like a fist was punching me in the

stomach. I looked in horror as each one of my babies spoke to all of us with down cast

eyes, as if this was their fault. Apparently on their visits with Mike these different

occurrences happened. It was at this time that Niki who was twelve years old had

revealed to me that Mike had touched her several times many years ago when she was

younger. It was insane that all of my babies endured these assaults and pain from this

person they and I had trusted. Eventually the girls one by one confessed that Mike had

threatened to “Kill mommy” if they ever told anyone what went on. The emotional and

psychological damage that was done to each of these girls would haunt and plague

each of them deeply as they became victims of sexual abuse. I learned that Niki’s

testimony included a statement “I dreamt he came into my room and got on top of me”.

The word “dreamt” dissolved the entire testimony. They could not pursue charges with

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that statement. Brigette had admitted that “she thought Niki had told her that Mike’s

abuse happened to her” again not admissible for charges. And finally Sammy’s

disclosure to the Police was inaudible, meaning she did not speak loudly enough for

them clearly hear her statement. The Crown did not move forward with charges and

because there were no formal charges there was absolutely nothing done to prosecute

Mike. I feel that if this had not happened in the early 1990’s then things would have

been much different.

Mike was not arrested even though the police officers confided to me that they did

indeed believe each girl was sexually molested and assaulted but there was not

substantial evidence to hold him responsible. I had reached a new heightened pain that

I never in a million years dreamed would be possible. All three girls were immediately

put into counselling. As a parent it is preordained that your child’s pain becomes your

pain. My three babies suffered and my pain as deep as it was, could not even come

close to what I am sure they felt, for many years.

The counselling proved to no avail and after one year of counselling sessions were over

I was required to take the girls out. When I questioned the counsellor on the disclosures

and how it would impact and bring closure to their trauma I was informed that the girl’s

did not openly admit the abuse on their own. The counsellors felt that if they were to

even intimate anything then the girl’s verification would have been coerced. The

counsellor told me confidentially that if the girls been put on the stand in a court room

they would have had to face Mike and the Prosecutor would have “ripped them to

shreds”.

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My girls had to continue with their lives, living with shame, guilt and anger and this

would inevitably plague each one of them for many years. All the more reason to create

a home that would be a safe haven and a relationship of trust where the girls would

always know they could turn to me with anything. My faith was unshakable I could not

let them down.

Chapter 21 My Marriage Unravels

Life continued as it does and the talk of the abuse faded but sadly continued to churn in

the souls of each of the girl’s. As with time being a healer, the girls were absorbed into

their school, friends and sports. I was always a very hands on mom and still to this day

shake my head at the energy I had back then. Bella was enrolled in a special needs

daycare that was simply amazing as she thrived in that environment. To add to her

progress she bathed in daily stimulation love and attention from myself and her sisters. I

had created a very tight knit family with the girls and that made me very proud. Mark on

the other hand was not so hands on. He was very focused on going to work daily and

coming home to lay on the couch. I do not recall his ever taking the girls to swimming or

Cadets or whatever else they were involved in. I tried to encourage him to become more

involved but the more I talked about it the more he withdrew. My role as mother/father

was unwavering over the years and I was driven to make sure they were always

involved in extracurricular activities with love and support.

As the routines were established it became evident when the things started to unravel.

Brigette became the focus of attention as she was acting out at school and I was

receiving weekly calls from her teacher. She was tested in the class and I was informed

that she had ADHD. Not too long after that she school stated she was also dyslexic. Her

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temper slowly started to reveal itself and combined with school issues she became the

focus of my attentions for several years. After searching and interviewing with many

schools that could accommodate her learning disabilities I had found a private school an

hour away in the city. My daily routine consisted of up at five a.m make lunches, get

girls up and ready for school/daycare then drove Brigette to her school by seven thirty in

the morning and as well pick her up at the end of each day. To my dismay she was told

she could no longer attend this school due to her poor attitude. Even though I had her

privately tested to find out that she indeed was severely dyslexic little did I know the

underlying difficulty was the reality that she was Bi-polar This mood disorder resulted in

mood swings and her energy and her inability to carry out daily tasks. Unfortunately with

all of the different doctors, counsellors and school teachers that I was involved with not

one person revealed that this disorder could be a major part of her challenges. These

few years were wrought with confusion and pain on her part as she quit school.

Eventually her life would spiral out of control and I was unable and misinformed on how

to manage those challenges.

In their early teen years all three of the older girls were happy to maintain their “first

jobs” Niki became a waitress at our local Cactus Club and on weekends we would go

out for dinner to show her support and leave her big tips! She was in grade twelve and

worked part time and she loved it. Brigette was a little more introverted and was pleased

to be hired as a counter/gas attendant at a local gas station. The highlight of her

weekends was me coming to fill up the car and honk in appreciation as I drove away.

Sammy being the conscientious individual that she was, became a top customer service

and cashier at McDonalds. This was a treat for the other girls as we they all loved to eat

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at McDonalds and having their sister take their order was a bonus! All three of the girls

had different shifts and days of work along with cadets and other extracurricular

activities there was never a dull moment in our lives

Niki was getting ready to graduate and unbeknownst to me had somehow brought Mike

back into her life periodically. She was a loving and free spirited girl that loved her family

and was loved by many friends. She moved out with a girlfriend shortly after graduation

and began her new adult life. She lived a few blocks away therefore was always home

to visit with her sisters for weekend barbecues or just a hello on week nights.

Sammy was eight years younger than Niki and a soulful and happy girl. She was a

homebody and adored her little sisters. There was never a shortage of friends at the

house for overnights and playdates. Bella continued to grow into a high functioning little

girl and gabby being eleven years younger than Sammy, her life was always the focal

point of attention from her sisters.

As I am sure is with every family of teenagers, especially girls, our family life was taking

its toll on Mark and he could not handle the drama and outbursts due to hormones.

Because of my previous years with Mike my experience with constant drama, outbursts

and anxiety were not foreign to me. He however was unexperienced and very unfamiliar

with demanding family dynamics and made the conscious choice to keep an emotional

distance from myself and the girls.

My marriage to Mark lasted eight years. Although he was never an active participant in

the girl’s lives and I accepted tha, unfortunately his connection to all of us seemed to

fade more and more with each passing year. I had realized that I did not marry this man

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because I was in love with him I married him because I loved him, a huge difference. I

justified to myself that he could be a father for my children and a stable role model as

that was my primary desire and goal. But again I made the wrong choice and the

effects of that would present challenges to myself and my girls.

By now things were changing quickly and as a family we were starting to unravel.

Brigette was becoming more out of control and Mark had no desire to step in and help. I

finally realized that the dynamics of so many children and their personalities along with

a child with special needs was not a task that he could handle. It overwhelmed him to

the point of shutting down completely. During this time Brigette had been away at camp

with her class mates and Mark managed to find the phone number of the office of the

camp. He called and asked for Brigette. She was thrilled to hear his voice on the phone

and thought he was informing her he would be picking her up from the ferry ride home.

Instead he said “I will be gone when you get home as I am moving out Brigette. I am not

your dad anymore so you will not see me again” Just like that. That phone call would

send Brigette into a tailspin of anger and mistrust as she had again experienced the

loss of a father. Those feelings combined with her other emotional diagnoses would

initiate a succession of anguish and torment for many years. The last day he packed up

to move out of our house and move back to his parents I confronted him on why his

disconnection with our family. He calmly looked me in the eyes and said “I did not want

to you to keep Bella” I was stunned and reeled back from him disbelief. Was I hearing

him properly? Did he really say that? In an instant my arm sprang up and slapped him

clear across his face so hard that I heard his jaw crack. He only looked back at me and I

saw no remorse in his face.

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I felt nothing for him in that moment and told him I was ashamed to even be standing in

the same room with him. That was the moment that any hope of him being a true father

died. A part of me died as I realized I had failed again at choosing a good father for my

children. Mark moved back home to his parents and the girls and I established a new

routine for the new situation.

Chapter 22 A Single Mom Again

I worked full time for another two years then was laid off from my job but welcomed the

time home with the girls. I started a part time job telemarketing in the evenings as the

older girls could watch the younger ones. As a single mom with five girls my life was

busier than I could have imagined however slowly I could feel my grip of daily life

slipping away. The girls started to argue more frequently and the older two would stay

out more often with friends. I felt guilty at having two failed marriages and combined

with the feeling I was letting my girls down was eating away at me quite quickly. My flaw

as a human being had hit me full force and the ability to accept my feelings of shame

and allowing me to focus completely on the girls was diminishing quickly. Despite the

love and connection that I had with my girls all of the past exploitations and abuse were

taking its toll on everyone.

Niki had started a relationship with a fellow that she was over the moon with. She would

call me every day to update on her new life. She was happier than I had seen her in a

very long time and was pleased at her new found love. As the days turned into months I

noticed that her coming around the house was less frequent. I attributed that to the early

stages of a new romance and was still not too concerned. Every Sunday was a ritual in

our house for a family dinner. I would cook a roast beef and Yorkshire pudding dinner

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and in the summer would always have a BBQ. Niki showed up with her boyfriend and I

noticed that she was not quite herself. She seemed overly talkative and quite energetic

even though we had a great afternoon I could not put my finger on it. She started

sharing with me all of the new clothes and jewelry that she was getting. My heart was

happy for her as she had come down a long road. She brought me over a bottle of wine

one day that was not in my price range and confided that her tastes and way of life were

on the up and up. She was happy to share this with me and loved to talk about all of the

fancy restaurant’s she was being taken to and promised to take me out with her soon.

Within months of Niki’s newfound lifestyle she had confided that her boyfriend was a

drug dealer. But “it was ok as it was Marijuana and not hard stuff”. I was very worried as

I was not feeling comfortable with her lifestyle yet I could not persuade her otherwise.

After all as she pointed out “many of her girlfriends were living the same lifestyle.” I

advised her to please be aware that this lifestyle was not safe and I was very concerned

for her.

To add to that worry there was a significant change in Brigitte’s behavior and attitude.

She was more angry and belligerent to the point that she was becoming very hard to

handle. She started to steal and her lies became more frequent. Again I blamed myself

for not having the ability to safeguard her and her sisters from pain. It was not unusual

for her to stay out at friends for a night or two at a time. I had repeated counselling

sessions with her over the past few years but to no avail. I felt her slipping away as I

could not control her activities. Violence started to play a major role in her behavior and

I was seeing the impact it had on her sisters. I was anxious to help her but did not have

much success. Sammy was as ever the quiet one that always seemed stable and

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supportive of her younger sisters and myself. Unbeknownst to me though her anxieties

were swirling inside of her and would materialize when she was much older.

Chapter 23 The Darkness Overcame

One day I found out Mark had cut me off from our joint chequing account. I panicked,

how would I fully support five girls? My stress level kicked up a notch and I was getting

desperate to find grounding. I had started to read many self-help books in search of

direction and understanding why life takes so many turns. I became very interested in

realizing that God was just a name of my higher power and the vast universe was also a

term used to surrender oneself. After much research I came to believe that my higher

power was in control of my life journey and I was a spiritual being living a human

journey. My beliefs and my reality were racing side by side on a daily basis.

I accepted that the food bank was an alternative we needed to depend on and shopping

for clothes at the local Salvation Army became habit. I was saddened that my life had

once again become affected by my choices yet I was still grateful for having healthy

girls and a roof over our heads. I knew many mothers struggled with much less and as

my part time job was phased out it became obvious that the house I rented was too

much for me to afford. For many weeks after that Niki had insisted that I move in and

rent out her boyfriend’s house that was a half hour away from our present house. I was

adamant that I would not move into “a drug dealer’s house”, but as the days turned into

weeks and my financial and emotional conditions grew troublesome I allowed myself to

give in and make the move. This was a pivotal time in my life that took me on a whole

other path of life that would become the darkest and most depressing time of my

journey. Over the past eight years with in my marriage to Mark and the five girls we had

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acquired much stuff in our home. The girls were excited about our new move and we

spent one weekend sorting through what we did not need and the next weekend having

a two day garage sale. The girls were thrilled at the extra money that they made and I

was pleased that I had made a couple of hundred dollars to add to my waning bank

account.

I had a friend that suggested that I use his buddy to help us move as I did not have a

truck and could not afford a mover. It was a rainy day when we packed up and moved to

our new house. The excitement of new surroundings for our fresh start was just a

façade for what was to become misery and sorrow for the girls and I for the next few

years.

The new friend Dave that had helped us move became a critical impact in my life. I was

at a pressing low in my life feeling that I had failed not only myself but my kids as well. I

had two botched marriages when all I ever wanted was to have a loving and stable life

for my girls. My self-confidence and self-esteem were at an all-time low and my

vulnerability was ever present and ripe for the picking.

A week into our new place, the girls were enrolled in their new schools and I had just

acquired a new job. Things were looking good, I felt that I was on the right track to

assuming a new normalcy for the girls and me. We were back to our routine of Sunday

dinners with family and friends, and enrolling the girls into their activities. Niki was

pleased that I had rented the house and came by regularly to see us. By now Mark had

a new girlfriend and the girls saw him regularly every weekend for overnight visits.

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Several incidents came to light around this time and I stepped back into coping mode as

best I could. Brigette had found a boyfriend and was defiantly spending overnights with

him with no regard to home guidelines. She had become irrepressible and

unmanageable. I take full responsibility due to my lack of clarity and strength in holding

my family together. The dynamics of our household slowly started to unravel and a

steadfast lifestyle started to crumble. The previous year’s setbacks and dysfunction

were gaining a close grip on my mind and sense of self-esteem.

Brigette called me one morning and asked if I could take her to see our family doctor as

she was not feeling well. I picked her up from her boyfriend’s house and made our way

to the appointment. As we drove in silence I could help but feel so sad that our lives had

become so scattered. I put my hand on her arm and said “honey you know how much I

love you don’t you?” and Brigette answered “ yes mommy I do” and in that moment

everything else was forgotten and we had a moment in time of togetherness that had

not been with us for a long time. As I dropped her off I said I would be back to pick her

up as I had an errand to run. I drove back at the same moment she was coming out of

the building and as I looked up at her I saw a look of fear spread across her face. I was

immediately alarmed and asked “what is the matter? Are you ok?” Slowly Brigette put

on her seat belt and her eyes welled up with tears. “Mommy I am pregnant “I was taken

aback as this was not what I expected to hear. In that moment as I looked at her I

reflected back on her as that little miracle baby that filled my life with so much joy. I was

remarkably calm as I told her “everything will be ok honey I will always be here for you”

She slowly cast her eyes down and whispered “do you want me to have an abortion?

“Oh no honey you do not have to do that! I exclaimed we will work this out. A look of

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relief spread across her face and she reached out and we hugged each tighter than we

had in a very long time.

Dave had conveniently placed himself in our lives as a good friend that could help out

with different things around the house. I had no intention of starting a new relationship

but having a male friend would not hurt. His visits became more frequent and he

became more familiar with my life through my disclosure of failed marriages.

As I was to sadly learn the hard way drugs were not unknown to him.The next six

months saw a slow but steady decline of positive events in our home.

He was not the type of person that I was familiar with and saw none of the signs. I had

always prided myself for the fact that I was a hands on mom, was on Board of Directors

for various non-profit organizations and did not do drugs and rarely drank. I was not

prepared for what was to come. It was a week night and the girls were all tucked in early

for school the next day. Dave stopped by for a visit and suggested that I try something

to relax. He pulled a small clear pipe out of his pocket and put it on the counter. I was

curious as I had never seen one before. Next he pulled out a very small baggy with

what looked like salt crystals. That too I had never seen before. He smiled at my

curiosity and told me it was a drug that you smoke and then assured me it would be ok.

I complied as I trusted him as a friend and did not believe that he would do anything to

harm me. He lit the small glass pipe and explained how I was to inhale the smoke. I put

the pipe in my mouth inhaled deeply then held my breath.

I closed my eyes, inhaled the smoke deeply and slowly and felt a sudden rush of

euphoria seep into every particle of my being. When I opened my eyes I was standing

tall on a window ledge gazing down on myself. I was stunned by the calm that

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overwhelmed me and I could hear my heart beating purposefully like the ticking of a

clock. There was no pain, no feelings of distraught only a subdued numbing of every

thought and memory in my mind.

As I exhaled and my eyes opened I was looking directly into a set of eyes revealing a

flicker of fear. As I exhaled the sweet white smoke, that moment in time my life changed

forever. The feeling that came over me was a euphoric and exhilarating feeling that I

had never before experienced. This moment became the start of my hell on earth and

the bane of my existence for the next two years. Later Dave admitted he felt a

deliberate fear as he looked in my eyes in those first moments and witnessed my

momentary abyss into a world of no return. But it obviously was not enough to warn me

as he provided this drug crack cocaine for us on what became a daily basis. It started

out in the evenings after the kids had gone to sleep but this insidious drug captured my

soul and would soon turn out to be my saving grace from the stress of everyday life. My

days consisted of getting the kids up and off to school and daycare then driving straight

to work. I was finding myself to be more and more fatigued as I spent several nights a

week embarking on my escape. By now Dave had become a permanent fixture in our

home and our life was shifting into high gear.

Chapter 24 Living Your Children’s Pain

Throughout this time Niki had disclosed the physical abuse she was suffering at the

hands of her boyfriend Steve. I begged her to consider leaving him and move back with

me but as a domestic violence victim she would continue down that path with hopes of

change in the name of love. The first time I saw evidence of the abuse was on a Sunday

afternoon at our family BBQ. She came alone and was acting a little withdrawn and I

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noticed her favoring her right leg. She dismissed any questions I asked and continued

on enjoying her little sisters. She did however later confide that had a pit bull that was

trained to attack. Due to the nature of his lifestyle he fed this dog raw meat on a daily

basis to keep it sharp and vicious. Apparently Niki and Steve had an argument when he

ordered the dog to attack Niki. She had a huge bite mark in her calf the wound was

about two inches deep. This would not deter her from pursuing this relationship. The

more toxic it became the stronger she held on.

The most hopeless feeling in the world for any mother is to stand back and watch her

child move forward into a pain that is all laid out yet unseen by her. The greatest impact

that this violence had on me came after we had been living in his house for about six

months. I received a call one morning from Niki and she was hysterical. She said that

she had an argument with Steve and that he threatened to kill her. She got away from

him and was racing the thirty five minute drive to my house. “He’s chasing me mommy!

He’s going to get me and kill me mommy!” She had a five minute start from him but she

could see his car bolting in and out of traffic in her rear view mirror. He was chasing her

and she was terrified. She stayed on the phone with me the whole time as I reassured

her she would be safe here. Those thirty five minutes were the longest of my life. My

baby was so scared and vulnerable and the terror in her voice riveted into my heart.

“Please god I prayed, do not let him catch her before she arrived to me” I was waiting in

the driveway keys in the ignition with the phone pressed up against my ear tapping my

foot iimpatiently praying for time to speed up. Finally she pulled into the driveway

jumped into my car and we sped away to the police station. I drove down several side

streets to avoid being seen by Steve on our way. My heart was pounding as I looked

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over at my girl and saw a look of resigned terror on her face. I thought my heart was

going to explode out of my chest as we sped madly away from my house scanning each

corner street for his car. When we arrived at the police station I bolted out of the car

going around to Niki’s side embracing her with as much confidence as I could. I hugged

her and told her everything would be alright that we would get protection for her. Quickly

we went inside and spent an hour with the police officer. I was saddened and distressed

at the stories of physical abuse she described she had endured. I knew in that moment

that the life we had with Mike had everything to do with her accepting and living with this

type of behavior. Had I not left Mike sooner in the relationship then Niki would not have

images of abuse imprinted on her soul. Clearly I saw a hurt so deep that from then on I

referred to my girl as my tortured soul. I was certain that if Niki was to resume her

abusive relationship she would never find the peace that she so deserved. When we left

the police station after Niki had laid abuse charges I was hopeful that life would move in

a positive direction for her. She moved back in with me and I felt relief that she would be

safe with me.

Two days later when we arrived home from picking the kids up from school, I was to find

that my front door had been kicked in so badly the frame was damaged to the point that

the door would not close at all. Steve had left a voice mail for Niki begging for her to

come back to him and if she did not that we would see more damage. Once Niki heard

that message she looked at me and her eyes revealed a familiar look of surrender. I

knew that look as I myself had portrayed that look to my mother. Her face softened as

she looked at me and said “it is okay now mommy, I am not pressing charges, he was

just mad and will calm down I just have to wait awhile”. “No” I blurted you have to follow

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through honey this will only get worse and the next time I fear he will kill you”. To my

dismay that night Niki informed me that she was going out for dinner with Steve. I was in

shock as my knees buckled and I fell to the ground begging her not to go. She assured

me “It will be fine mom he won’t hurt me don’t worry” but deep in my heart I knew time

would be victorious in proving that it was not fine. Shortly after that day she moved out

of the house and in with Steve. The next several years of her relationship proved to be a

life full of pain and abuse that would only culminate onto a path of self-destruction.

Chapter 25 The Darkness Ruled

The next nine months crept by and in 2003 at age sixteen Brigette gave birth to a

beautiful and perfect healthy little girl. The day she went into labour Niki, Sammy and I

went with her into the hospital. As Brigette lay in the bed experiencing the pain of her

labour the girls and I would take turns rubbing her back and encouraging her with words

of love and support. We spent twelve hours together and the natural connection that we

all shared was unflawed. Time stood still as I witnessed my daughter give birth to her

first child surrounded by a wave of unconditional love from her sisters. Niki and Sammy

watched in awe and wonder as their beautiful niece Sylvia Marie arrived into their world.

As we basked in those tender and heartfelt moments nothing else seemed to matter.

We were a family that regardless of challenges, loved each other unconditionally and for

always.

My drug use started to spiral out of control however my angels were with me overseeing

my girls throughout this painful time. Brigette moved in with the father of Sylvia, Niki

continued to live with her boyfriend Steve and Sammy was still living with me and Bella

and Gabby. As the family dynamics of tension and immediate worry dissipated

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somewhat, my guilt and depression led my escape into the drug regularly. Thank god

the younger girls were with Mark every weekend and Sammy frequently stayed with her

best friend as well on weekends. This was a blessing in one aspect and a curse in the

next as it gave me more time escape. My daily thoughts and regrets habitually gnawed

away at my self-perseverance. I was not even close to the kind of mom I once was. I

had lost control of my identity and the more I berated myself the deeper I went into the

black hole of self-ruin. Dave and his drug supply had all but consumed me emotionally

and physically. Our relationship was not one of caring or love it was dependency and as

well in his case control. Dave would not hesitate to choke me or slam me up against a

wall when he was coming down from his highs. The deep seated fear that was

imbedded in me many years prior would seemingly encase my mind and immobilize my

body. I was quick to assess with Dave the reality that an addict will beg borrow and

steal to stay medicated and become violent as well. I myself never arrived at the place

of stealing, thank god, but because of Dave my back account, what little I had was

dangerously low on a regular basis. Unbeknownst to me Dave had taken my debit and

credit cards and used them to purchase the drugs we used although I was under the

impression that he was buying them. But I was engaged in consuming the daily highs

and little else seemed to matter. I had hidden a cache of jewelry that I had accumulated

over the years from my grandmother and parents. I had forgotten about it until I was

cleaning out my closet and found it stuffed way at the back. When I pulled it out and

opened I was surprised to see how much was there. Just when I was closing it I noticed

Dave standing behind me and looking at the case not saying a word. I put it away and

did not give much thought to that moment. I did however notice it missing a couple of

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weeks later. I ripped my closet apart thinking I misplaced the case. I asked Dave if he

had seen it he stated that Brigette probably stole it. This was one of the many times

during my addiction where I cannot believe how utterly naïve I was. I honestly look back

and see myself at that time moving in slow motion with not a single concise or clear

thought. After my jewelry was stolen by him and pawned to get the money to support

this habit I knew was completely under the spell of the addiction. Ultimately the day

came when I received a phone call from Dave telling me that he had totaled my car and

since he did not have a driver’s license there was no chance of reimbursement to help

get another vehicle. I was devastated. How would I get around, how would the girls get

to daycare? Dave did not care one ounce as it was not his problem. Throughout this six

month period some form of self-perseverance stayed with me and I finally decided that I

could no longer have Dave in my life and I moved back to Richmond. By now I knew

that I could not properly care for my girls on a regular basis. I was dangerously close to

spinning out of control. I needed to change my surroundings I needed to run away from

my present situation and start new. I found a house to rent and truly believed I could

start over. However the relief into the drug was nowhere to be seen as I soon learned.

The desire to start fresh was a false pretense that my mind had only yearned for.

Once again the fresh start that I had fooled myself into would again undoubtedly affect

my girls. Brigette had moved back in with Sylvia and all four girls were depending on me

to guard and protect them.

My guilt, shame and total uncontrolled desire over this addiction had become too much.

I reasoned that my children deserved far more in a mother than I could deliver. Again

my failings were paramount in how I saw myself as not only a mother but a person.

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It was a typical hurried school day as I gathered up the kids and dropped them off one

by one to their schools. When I dropped Bella and Gabby off I had forgotten that it was

my day to pick them up after daycare. As Mark and I alternated from week to week I for

some reason had missed that. I kissed each one of them good bye and told them how

much I loved them. “Never forget how much mommy loves you” I said before each one

got out of the car. I then went home and calmly sat on my bed with a pencil and paper. I

wrote a note detailing how incredibly special each girl was and that I was sorry that I

had made such a mess of our life. I then took the bottle of sleeping pills that I had

picked up from the pharmacy the day before. I proceeded to swallow the two hundred

pills and lay down to embrace my rest. In my heart I did not want to die I just wanted to

sleep, I just wanted uninterrupted rest. When I did not arrive at the high school to pick

up Sammy and Brigette my dad was called and brought them home. To my great

distress they all found me on the bed with a note next to my face. They immediately

called 911 and I was taken by ambulance to the hospital with my family following

behind. My journey on this earth was not over by any means and I awoke in a padded

room in the Psyche ward of our local hospital. The smell of antiseptic in the air along

with a suffocating stillness penetrated my very being. I remember the disorientation and

panic when I came to. It happened so quickly that I felt I was in a dream and the reality

of what I had done was a nightmare. I awoke in a padded room with a mailbox size

opening. This is not real I thought. Panic overwhelmed me as I called out to a male

nurse that was standing outside my room. The tone of his voice and the indifferent stare

scared me as he barked out his response. “What do you want?” he said. “Please “I

begged him” let me out of here, why am I here”? He just smirked at me and walked

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away. I stayed in that padded room for the full day trying to absorb what had happened

and what would happen next. Once I started to become clearheaded the reality of what I

did hit me full on and I panicked thinking of the girls and what they must be thinking.

What the hell was I thinking? Now what would happen? Unfortunately because I was

not there to pick up Bella and Gabby the hospital called Mark and relayed the outcome

of the day so he had to go and pick them up. Thank God my dad was with Sammy and

Brigette as I shuddered to think of them alone and learning of what I had done.

The next day I was taken from the padded room and put into a small room with a

window overlooking the attached side of the building. The Psychiatrist came into my

room and sat at the end of my bed. His demeanor was kind and I felt at ease when he

smiled at me. I started from the beginning and divulged all that I could about my past. In

between sobs and wrapping my arms tightly around my chest I pleaded with him to

believe me that I did not really want to die, I just wanted to sleep. When I finished he

told me directly “I am surprised you did not take your life sooner due to the

circumstances you have lived through” I was shocked at his comment and felt a twinge

of relief. Maybe I was not so crazy after all. He recommended group counselling for the

following week and signed a release form for three days later. Unfortunately In those

three days there was no reprieve from my connection to Dave. The second night I was

there sitting on my bed when a nurse walked in and informed me my brother was there

to see me. I was quite surprised as my brother lived three hundred and fifty miles away

and I did not call him. When I followed the nurse to the front desk I was shocked to see

Dave standing there grinning. When the nurse said “Here is your day pass Leanne,

enjoy your visit with your brother” I was flabbergasted. So I followed Dave out the door

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and into the car. The moment the doors were closed, he smiled and lit a pipe. We drove

around for hours indulging in getting high. Sadly my road to recovery was still in the

distance. In hindsight I know that this was the way it was supposed to be. I still needed

to continue my path of life lessons as this was only a bump in the road.

Chapter 26 About to Hit Bottom

One thing I truly learned from this period in my life was more about my kids than myself.

I need to vocalize how critical it is that we as adults become more acutely aware that

“everything” we go through, experience and feel has a direct impact on our children,

whether we believe it or not. The old saying “you reap what you sow” is by far the most

powerful and accurate expression to ever be transformed into reality. In life we all get

wrapped up in our own pain and suffering yet we can be guaranteed that our children

feel it tenfold. I wish that I had that knowledge back then as it would have saved my girls

so much of their own pain. In my state of denial and pain I hated myself to the point that

believing anyone else could love me was a remote and unimaginable idea. In no way

shape or form at that time in my life did I believe my children loved me as much as they

did. Their belief and trust in me was compelling however I did not have any idea that

they felt that way. How could they love me when I did not love myself?

The girls still did not know of my addiction and relied as they should on my taking care

of them. I told Mark that I need time to get well and asked him to take Bella and Gabby

full time for a while. Sammy was in grade twelve and the only child with me on a regular

basis. As proved many times throughout our lives together she was my rock. She was

very mature for her age and loved me far more than I ever realized. She would get

herself up each morning for school and hang out with friends later after school. Our

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dinner times were our daily connection as she recounted her days. She was not aware

that I had a drug problem although I am sure she knew deep down that something was

not right. As much normalcy as I could muster I provided a loving home for her. The

tables had turned and I was the one to have weekend visits with Bella and Gabby. Niki

was living her life as a young adult and Brigette found solace in her relationship with her

boyfriend. Although the girls were a huge part of my life and we saw each other weekly

and spoke daily the façade I created was crumbling quickly. I finally had to quit my job

as my addiction had all but consumed me. I had a girlfriend that had housed our nightly

ritual of getting high. Many people that I did not know would come and go. Each night I

would arrive around nine p.m. joining the many out of sorts’ companions enthusiastic to

get high and escape their demons. We would each embark on our private escape

making small talk as we absconded into our fantasy of reality. I distinctly remember

seeing a fellow arrive one night. I do not recall what he looked like or how long he was

there but I do remember him looking at me directly saying “you do not belong here”. It

was actually very profound and out of nowhere. It was a statement that stayed with me

long after that night. As hard as I tried to keep Dave out of my life he tried harder to

come back. He won. He disease was rampant in me now and I surrendered to a life that

I could not escape. As I look back I saw Dave in his own long term addiction as he

resorted as an addict does, to prey on those closest to them. He had no disregard for

myself let alone my children. He had been in the game far longer than my six months

and I was frightened to even contemplate that I too could become that person. The days

with him blurred into weeks and the highs remained relentless. A weekend came when

the younger girls were with Mark for the weekend and Sammy was staying with her

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girlfriend for the weekend. It was a dismal and rainy day when we were home alone I

experienced a frightening episode. Dave had returned from scoring from his dealer and

we proceeded start our day getting high. I am not sure how to describe what happened

next but my body totally became a being all of its own. Shortly after we had smoked and

sat back to experience the high, I had no control over my thoughts, my reflexes or my

ability to speak. It was like an out of body experience that terrified me, and it began with

the most overpowering feeling of anger I have ever felt. My face contorted into a teeth

grinding grimacing figure. My body became twisted and distorted as I shook violently

with no intentional power what so ever. It an out of body experience where I was

paralyzed between my mind and my body. I was writhing in a way that I could not

conceive I was able to do and growling sounds were escaping from my mouth as I

jerked and spasmed involuntarily. I was begging Dave to help me to call 911 to do

anything to help me. I remember him being quite calm as he picked up the phone.

When he had an operator on the line he abruptly declared that his call was an accident

and he apologized for the mistake. He hung up the phone and just sat there on the edge

of the bed staring at me with no emotion. My outburst lasted for about thirty minutes yet

seemed like hours. He just sat there and watched me emotionless and blank. It was in

that moment I realized that he chose to let me overdose and die rather than have

himself exposed. As intense and frightening as that was it did not stop me from again

getting high but a terror from that moment struck a chord deep within me. I was so

impacted by that incident that in the following days each time I came down from being

high I would get down on my knees beside my bed and bow my head. I prayed with all

my heart and soul to god to please help me get through this horrendous and debilitating

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addiction. I begged god to give me the strength to stand up, to stop falling down to

become the person that my children needed me to be, that I needed to be. Deep down

inside I believed that slowly my prayers would not go unanswered.

Chapter 27 My First Attempt to Come Back

An awareness inside me started to emerge slowly and the full realization that I needed

help immediately began to overcome me and gnaw at my heart. I had visions of me

dying all alone on my bedroom, my girls being left alone with no mom and they were

very real. The days were painfully long and blurred as the desire and need to consume

the drug had over taken every ounce of my body and mind. It was not too far into my

addiction when I started to see pennies everywhere and I mean everywhere. They

would appear as if out of nowhere. I found many days when I would be sitting alone and

getting high I would look around me and see about twenty to thirty of them would be

surrounding me. There were shiny ones, old ones and not old ones. In reflection I know

they were my guardian angels. This continued throughout my entire addiction and the

significance of the pennies became very clear as my life moved forward. I knew they

truly were pennies from heaven. They were a sign from my angels letting me know that

they were with me always.

I found the strength and clarity to sign up into a detox center shortly after that incident. It

was a one week stint that I felt would solve all of my problems. I was excited and

mentally prepared myself for this new chapter in my life. But to my dismay it was no

chapter it was a paragraph out of my life. I surrendered my personal belongings and

joined about twenty other addicts that were also certain this was the way to redemption

and a clean life. I was feeling optimistic and a surge of excitement started in my belly. I

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could do this, I know I can. I was in for two days when I had a visit from Dave. We sat

across from each other with other in an open kitchen filled with other Daveients visiting

with their family and friends. As our half hour visit was coming to an end he

nonchalantly put his hand under the table onto my lap. As I reach under I realized he

was handing me a small glass pipe and bag of crack cocaine. I looked at him in surprise

and he took this as a gesture of thanks. After he left the desire overwhelmed me and I

hid in the bathroom for several minutes succumbing to my disease.

My guilt overwhelmed me and I confessed what I had done to the counsellor.

Immediately I was discharged from the program. To my dismay and sadness I went

back to living my life as a prisoner of my addiction. My days were wrought with so many

negative and hopeless feelings that getting high seemed the only solution to my life. It is

a terrible feeling when your will to live keeps overriding your mind telling you to die

when ultimately you want to die and release the pain.

The addiction was so powerful I likened my behavior to that of a laboratory rat, scurrying

from one corner of his cage to another, with no set course, waiting for that high to

incapacitate my mind from facing another day of guilt and sadness. There were times

that I would continue using for up to three days at a time and not eating, just getting

high. My weight plummeted down fifteen pounds and my skeletal body was becoming

emaciated. I remember clearly passing by a mirror one day during this time and was so

taken back at my reflection that I physically winced in shock losing my balance. I was

frightened and sickened at that person in the mirror that I had become, I was a stranger

I no longer wanted to see.

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There were two more attempts at detox and each time I was visited by Dave and his

premeditated desire to have me back in his life help support his obsession of the

disease. Do not get me wrong he did not force me to abandon the help I needed he just

helped to reinforce my habit. It was throughout these times I prayed to god for the

mercy in taking my life so that I did not have to suffer this unendurable suffering any

longer and more importantly that my children would be released of having such a bad

mother when they deserved so much more.

Chapter 28 Admitting My Failure

I suppose that a small part of my mind was clear albeit very small. There were several

times during my open-ended undertakings of high that I found the insight to call a

Recovery house intake line. To this day I do not know how I obtained that number or

from where but inevitably it was meant to be. During my frenzied high’s I left four

messages over a period of one month. I vividly remember begging them to accept me

as I knew that I was going to die if I did not get help. This was a monumental time in my

life as I came to the realization that I was truly a drug addict and there was no way out

except to quit, and that was said easier than done. One day my dad came over for a

visit and as we sat in my kitchen I confessed to him my deep need to get help for my

disease. I took a deep breath and looked dad squarely in the eyes. “Dad I am a drug

addict and I need help” I whispered brokenly and started to cry. My dad’s face fell in

shock and the pain he revealed just cut me like a knife. My heart ached for him as he

slumped in his chair like a deflated balloon. He was obviously in shock and told me that

I could not be in this way, that it was not possible. His eyes welled up with tears and I

could see how helpless he was feeling, a feeling that I was all too familiar as a parent.

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Initially he refused to believe me and I was torn up by his apparent pain and denial. I

begged his forgiveness and told him I just wanted to get well. He hugged me tightly

conveying his powerlessness but promising to do whatever he could to help me.

Another blessing, unconditional love that gave me strength. My next step was to admit

to my girls that I needed to get help for this disease. I was so scared to hurt my babies

with my confession but knew that I had no choice. Sammy had come home from school

one afternoon and I was ready to share this news. After she had put her books in her

room I called her into the living room where I was sitting on the couch. As she walked

into the room and looked at me she said “Mom what is wrong you are scaring me”. I

reached out for her hands and pulled her into a hug. As I looked into her eyes, those

beautiful eyes that loved me, I confessed my addiction and that I would be going to get

help. It took a few seconds to sink in then she abruptly pulled away from me and fell to

her knees crying. I did not think my heart could hold any more pain as I saw my child in

so much pain herself. After several minutes she climbed onto my lap and I held her for a

long time. Later that afternoon Brigette had come home to do a load of laundry and I

braced myself to share the news with her. Immediately Brigette burst into tears and

clung onto me. I held her, rocking back and forth whispering “everything will be ok

honey, I promise”. She too held onto me breaking my heart with her pain.

Niki had worked that evening but called me the next morning starting her day with our

usual chat. I told her I needed to come and see her as I had something important to

share with her. When I arrived to her place awhile later and confessed my addiction we

both cried and I kept telling her over and over how sorry I was. Those moments were a

turning point, I believe, that halted a part of my girl’s faith in me. I was mummy, I was

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not supposed to become a drug addict, I was supposed always set a good example and

take care of my girls. My admission would result in many years of anger towards me

and many years of pain that I would have to accept as my punishment for letting my

girls down. They would one day understand and forgive me but in the meantime it was

heart wrenching for all of us.

Throughout this time my youngest girls were living with their dad. Their weekly visits

with me were presenting a picture of sorrow and despair. Mark and his new girlfriend

were stating their dislike for me to them and as well exacting punishments that the girls

confided to me. I would call Mark and try to communicate how the girls were feeling

however this proved to only instigate more repercussions to the girls. The girls were

begging me to bring them home and as much as I wanted to my heart shouted they

would not be safe. It was excruciating to see their sad little faces to know that I was

abandoning them all because of my addiction. I did however reason that the girls were

much safer with their dad. Throughout this part of my journey my children were far more

affected than I rationalized by my actions and consequences. Niki and Sammy were

extremely close and Niki had taken her under her wing and spent every moment that

she could with her. They had an unspoken bond between them that went deeper than

the surface love. As Brigette had her boyfriend and the little ones were with Mark I could

lessen my guilt that I was abandoning my girls knowing that they all had someone to be

safe with.

I was really getting tired of having Dave in my life. I had become acquiescent that the

drugs had a longer shelf life to my body than a person. Gone was the need to have

someone score for me. I had graduated to a level of having my own drug dealer that

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would accommodate my fixes. Dave’s physical abuse and neediness for a partner to

get high with had run its course. I had gone to court several times seeking a restraining

order but that did not stop him from climbing onto my patio in the evenings and banging

on the window until I let him in. Each time I sent him away my resolve would erase and I

would allow him back in my life. I was trying to gather some semblance of order in my

life and the more I stayed away from him the stronger I became. But not with the drugs,

the more I stayed away from the drugs the more desperate I became for a high.

Solitude had become my best friend as I took to hole up in my bedroom for the next few

months. I would spend the days with the girls and after night fell I would come alive with

anticipation and excitement of my nightly “high”, my escape from the life I had created.

There was a young fellow in his twenties that was the local drug dealer and I had

become one of his regular clients if you will. Over the period of a year I had seen him

frequently and our conversations although they were short would result in me asking

him about his family. I guess my motherly advice saw no boundaries as my motherly

instincts would kick in each time I saw him. I would admonish him for wasting his life

selling drugs when he was capable of so much more. I would point out that it seemed

like he came from a good family and did he not realize how saddened and disappointed

his parents would be if they were aware of his chosen profession. My total lack of

unawareness that I too should be adhering to my remarks was a huge element of how

truly deep I was involved in my addiction.

Chapter 29 Not Quite There

Some nights I would call my drug dealer twice in an evening to score more of the drug

as I could not get high enough. I had no control and it was consuming me. I would sit for

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literally hours on my bed staring out the bedroom window. I was in a trance that I could

not escape from. A part of my mind was shrieking to come back but a bigger part of my

mind whispered “it’s ok you are safe here” I would hallucinate and create illusions of

fantasy that arose in my mind from places I cannot account for. The hours would fly by

into an abyss that could only be described as ethereal and as I heard the songs of birds

play in my mind, I was brought to the present, that morning had come and the birds

were alerting me to go to sleep not wake up. This unnatural existence was as insidious

as the drug itself. I had no moral compass, no sign of ordinary as I confined myself night

after night in my room. I do remember one night having a problem getting my dealer to

come by with the drugs as soon as I wanted and suddenly the thought of going to the

East side downtown flashed in my mind. As a young girl I would go shopping with my

Grandma to the Army and Navy on Hasting’s street down on the east side. I have vivid

memories of many homeless people and people with drug addictions milling around the

area. As we walked past the various people my Grandmothers fingers would squeeze

tighter than usual around my little arms as she hurriedly rushed from the bus stop and

into the store. “Do not look at these people Leanne, look down on the ground! She

would say with a sharp tone. She instilled a fear in me that these people would harm me

if they had a chance. In reality they probably did not even notice me and were actually

harmless however that was my first recollection of the downtown eastside. As the years

went by that area became notorious for being one of the city’s oldest and most marked

area for its open-air drug market, sex trade and crime so growing up in Vancouver I was

well aware of the carnage that was left behind there.

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But as quickly as the thought crossed my mind, a loud and ominous voice screamed

inside my head. “If you go there you will never come back!” There was a tremor of fear

that rose up in my chest and through my drug fazed mind I listened. This is a particular

memory that serves as sign from the universe I was to listen to, and thank god I did.

To totally scar your soul in a way that is so destructive is not like any other feeling in the

world. When I recall those long nights and impatient days I shudder to think of that

person I had become, the shell of a person I had become. Physically I functioned with

daily routine yet my insides and mind were in constant fear and denial mode. One of my

gravest mistakes that I had executed during my path of destruction was something that

will forever haunt me. On one of my excursions of getting high outside of my bedroom, I

went over to a person’s house with a couple of so called friends. When I arrived I was

more than shocked to see my Niki was there. I could not believe that I was in the same

room with my daughter and getting high. The disease allowed me to lower myself to the

most despicable place I could ever have imagined. There was no way to change those

moments or to escape and start again. We looked at each other and that moment could

never be erased. The next morning when I woke up and felt some sense of normalcy I

felt the most crushing sense of shame and disgust at myself. How could a mother ever

indulge in drug use with their child? If I had discovered that a friend of mine had done

this irresponsible and disgraceful thing than I would be horrified and judge that mother.

However since I have been on that punishing journey my insight would allow my

judgement to be altered. Unfortunately this incident did not jolt me into a deep enough

remorse, it only validated my existing self-loathing and realization that I was not a good

mother. It would be several more months of enduring that purposeless ramble.

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Chapter 30 Making the Commitment

It was a dreary winter day on November 30, 2004 and Brigette and Sylvia were living

with me at that time. Early that morning I went into Brigette’s bedroom and lay down

along her placing Sylvia on my chest and we all fell asleep. I had Sylvia sprawled

across my chest and as I cuddled her I felt true sensations of love emanating from that

precious little body. After we had been snoozing for about an hour my cell rang and it

was a number that I was not familiar with. I almost did not answer it. It was an intake

person from the Recovery House I had left messages to. They informed me that they

had an opening and if I could come in the next morning that would admit me. Oh my

god I thought, my prayers had been answered. I was so elated after I hung up and then

the reality set in.

I would have to stop using. My excitement turned to dread, could I do this? Was I strong

enough? I carefully placed the baby on the bed beside Brigette and slipped out of the

room closing the door quietly as to not wake them. I went downstairs and immediately I

called my dealer, left the house to meet him and proceeded to get high for the rest of

the day. When I returned at supper time I shared the news with Niki, Brigette and

Sammy that I would be leaving for the next three months to get the help that I needed. I

could see the anxiety come over them as the both said “please don’t go mommy”. I

assured them that it would go by quickly and I promised a better life for all of us when I

returned. Somehow I managed to pack a bag and made arrangements for my dad to

come over and stay with Brigette and Sammy for the next three months. As the younger

girls had been with Mark for the last couple of months on a regular basis I felt the need

to reach out to him and let him know that I would be away in recovery for the next three

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months. I started to cry and told him to tell the girls how much I loved them and would

contact him in the next couple of weeks.

As I drove across the bridge on that overcast day to the Recovery House, I was flooded

with memories of the past two years. Had it been that long? Would those days and

months that I existed in an abyss of darkness be over soon? I was determined to

surrender the next three months of my life and become a whole person again. I felt this

surging sense of an unspoken strength simmering deep inside me, pushing me forward

to my new with an all knowing feeling that I would get through this.

When I entered the facility I was greeted by two women that directed me into an office.

As I walked down the hall I passed two women that were indifferent to my stare and I

detected their sense of bewilderment. As I later learned they too had just entered the

house and their expectations were as muddled as mine. The intake workers had me

empty my purse and pockets. To my surprise I had two glass pipes hidden away that I

had forgotten about. I was as embarrassed as I was surprised. They however were not,

apparently this was very common for new intakes. As I settled into the group of about

ten woman, I held faith that I would one day be healed. I was determined and

committed. After I had spent an hour with the intake girls I was led to a room that had a

bathroom dividing my side with another room and a bed. The room was small and

sparse but fortunately had a window that allowed me to look out into a treed yard. It

gave me comfort to still feel connected to the outside world. Once I unpacked my little

suitcase and I was directed to a common area where I found four other women sitting.

We exchanged names and felt a little unguarded. There was a mutual look of weariness

on all of our faces as we conceded to come together to get well. I settled onto one of the

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small couches and suddenly found myself exhausted. My eyes kept closing as the girls

were chatting. As I listened I clasped my hands together on my chest trying to slow my

mind down and partake in their conversations. A few minutes later one of the head

counsellors came in the room. “Leanne you are not allowed to sleep” My hasty reply

was “I am not sleeping, I am praying” The women burst out laughing and there was a

defining moment we all felt a sense of togetherness.

My first few days saw me not able to leave my bed as I was so ill. It was like the worst

flu that I had ever experienced. I was to find out that I was going through withdrawal

something I had never experienced. My temperature rose to a feverishly high state and

the pain that wracked my body was relentless. I wanted to die, again.

On the second night while my fever was still out of control I experienced the most

intense and vivid dream that was unlike any other. I envisioned my body nailed to a

large cross resembling that of the one Christ was nailed to. The feelings were powerfully

real as I felt the searing pain of nails boring into my hands and feet with razor sharp

gouging. My skin stung like hot metal rods searing meat. The excruciating pain was

violently real and the intensity caused my broken body to writhe and thrash on the

narrow little cot that was my bed. Blood pounded through my ears as the agonizing pain

tore through my whole body and I cried for God to take away the pain. I truly envisioned

delusions of a real crucifixion, the punishing and grueling sensations disconnecting me

from anything that was remotely normal.

The merciful blackouts during this time were my only comfort. On the third day I was put

on a small bus and taken to a nearby clinic. As I sat in the waiting room observing

several people waiting as well, I wondered what each of their lives looked like and how

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their journey transpired to arriving here today. My guess was each person had also

endured their own journey to a place of hell, I was not alone.

After my initiation to the healing path, I settled into the routine so important for recovery.

I thrived on the excitement of healing anticipating an outcome that I had desperately

prayed for and so earnestly needed. This next journey on my life path.

In the Recovery house our days were very structured with daily group meetings, chores

and one on one counselling. Twice a week we walked about two miles to the Narcotics

Anonymous meetings. Those were the highlights of our weeks, getting out to the

meetings and connecting with and meeting many people like ourselves. The meetings

were held in a church basement that housed about seventy five people of all ages and

statures. Throughout these meetings I felt a kindred spirit with all that I met and not

because of our addictions but because of our humanness. We had all fallen down,

some further than others but desperately we wanted to get back up. Meeting after

meeting my heart would be broken at the stories of others. I counted my blessings as I

realized the depth of my pain was dull in comparison to others and to have the

opportunity be privy to so many heartbreaking tales was humbling.

All of the women that were in my group came very varying backgrounds and situations

suffering from some type of drug addiction and/or alcoholism. Most had been on the

streets for many years and I was intrigued yet saddened with their stories and pain. Like

myself they started out with families and children and along the way life threw a

curveball or ten resulting in being broken. We became a family and relied solely on each

other to get through each day. I was saddened to see several of the women leave and

go back to the streets and later learned fate had not been kind to them. During those

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three months I dug very deep into myself examining my past choices and learning how

to make amends with myself. There was a little chapel in the facility and I found myself

going there on a daily basis begging God to give me strength and help me to love

myself again. My desire to get through this period of my life was indomitable. Whatever

strength I had been blessed with had silently kept on path with me. I awoke each

morning with an enthusiasm for life, thinking of my children and how I could become

their mom again. It was as if I had been reborn as this new appetite for life had thrust

me forward. Once settled into a routine, I learned that we were not allowed to speak to

anyone outside of the house for the first month. It was a crucial part of the healing

Daveh to start to rediscover who we were and what trials and tribulations had brought

us down this road. At the time it seemed like forever and I was desperately missing my

girls, yet the time did go by swiftly and I grew stronger each day. My first visit came in

my fourth week when there was a family time scheduled for each Sunday. It was a time

of excitement and eagerness to have our families with us if even for a short time. Dad

was steadfast in bringing Niki, Brigette and Samantha each week to visit. The first

couple of visits were filled with tears and the girls begged me to come home as they

missed me. I felt so bad for them seeing them so sad, but I told them with determination

in my voice that it would be soon and I would be back and life would be better than they

could imagine. Each time they left I would feel such a powerful love and determination

to get better and give my girls a life that they deserved.

The first time I called Mark to speak with Bella and Gabby was very crushing. He told

me that I would never see them again as I was a drug addict and no better than a piece

of garbage. If this was at any other time it would have been devastating for me and I

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would have broken down. But I was so overcome with determination and a deep-seated

resolve to get better, that it only reinforced my will to change my life.

I had come up against other challenges while in recovery and the number one rule was

no discussions with family members about anything else other than our recovery. I had

a few calls from my dad when he was having some challenges with Brigette. Her

boyfriend had stolen my car and she was not complying with any of the house rules. I

felt so bad for my dad putting that responsibility on him and my immediate response

was to leave and make things better. But I knew in my heart I had to give up that control

and let things sort themselves out, and eventually they did. I learned to surrender my

control and with the passing of time life fell into place.

My three months went by swiftly in retrospect however precisely in moments. When the

time came to leave I knew I was ready. During my drug use I had reached an

unfathomable depth of darkness that consumed every fiber of my being. The thought of

ever going back to that place again was pure insanity. They asked me to consider

staying another week but I was so adamant that I was through that period of hell in my

life and never again would drugs find their way into my body. I had such a deep settling

of comfort and certainty in my soul. I will forever be grateful to the Salvation Army and

the amazing work they do in supporting and assisting people with addictions. Had it not

been for their services I can say with certainty I would not be alive today. Here I am

thirteen years later having never had a desire or want for drugs. I knew in my soul that

nothing could ever cause me to desire to pick up again no matter how beaten down or

pain filled I could become.

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While in rehabilitation for those three months I did not have any contact with my

younger girls Bella and Gabby and I was aching to hold them in my arms. The next day

after I was home I headed straight over to Mark’s house just after the girl’s school let

out. Their school bus pulled up and at the same time Mark and his girlfriend came

running out the front door ordering me to leave. I ignored them as I earnestly searched

the windows of the bus as it pulled up in front of the house. The bus came to a complete

stop and there in the front windows looking out at me were my two girls. I could see

their excitement and panic when they saw me as they put their little hands up to the

window while their eyes were calling out mommy. I was so excited to see them and

went rushing over to the bus. But the Mark had gotten there first and ordered the bus

driver to keep the doors closed and not let the girls out. I could see the alarm and fear in

their eyes as they realized they could not get out. When I turned to ask Mark what he

was doing I immediately saw a police car come quickly down the street. Unbeknownst

to me Mark had acquired a temporary restraining order keeping me away from the girls.

After he showed them the paperwork they told me that I would have to leave. I was

heartbroken. How could he not let me see my babies, he knew how much I loved my

girls. I knew that I could not argue as I stood there defeated and crushed. When I

looked up to the girls they both had tears in their eyes and silently were begging me to

come to them. As I walked away that precise moment gave me immense pain and

irrefutable strength at the same time. I would never give up on my girls, ever. Another

month went by and it broke my heart to not see them but I followed the rules and

eventually it played out in my favor. All the previous year’s sufferings hit me at once, as

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I was finally understanding that when I surrender my will and accept what is, my life

becomes better than I could anticipate.

Chapter 31 My New Inspiration

Now home I immediately established my daily ritual that started at six am each morning.

I would open my eyes, smile and give a prayer of thanks to god. I got up had my coffee

and reflected on my life and how I was to move forward. It was exhilarating to know that

I had complete control of my life and I could make it whatever I wanted it to be. My first

priority was go to court and retain custody of my two youngest. Because of my stay in

rehab I had to prove myself that I could be whole again to have my children back. I

returned to court to file a junction allowing me visitations with my girls until everything

was sorted out. Legally I still had full custody of the girls and I was determined to have

that back again. I had been granted alternating weekends with Mark and I was over the

moon with excitement to have my babies back again. The first day I picked them up I

noticed with shock that Bella had lost about eight pounds. I was mortified as my little girl

was a shell of what she had been three months previously. “Mark is Bella sick? Why

has she lost so much weight?” I asked. He unemotionally retorted “You know how those

Down syndrome people are, you have to watch what they eat or they get fat”. “Oh my

god” I said “you cannot be serious! She is just a little girl”! He seemed totally unfazed at

my remark and coldly said “Don’t worry about it”. I was to later learn that the girls were

fed their meals sparingly and endured constant physical and emotional abuse from

Mark and his girlfriend Jane.

My lawyer suggested that I invest in a Psychologist report to present to the court. The

only drawback for me was that it cost five thousand dollars. My heart sank where was I

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going to get that kind of money? I was so determined to raise this money for if I did not,

I knew in my heart that I would not have full custody to my children. I prayed and prayed

to my higher power to help me with this dilemma. I focused and consumed my thoughts

on believing that I could make it happen. And somehow everything fell into place and

the money became available through family and friends. Incredible how your thoughts

set out to help create your life path when you are unaware of it. I was so full of optimism

and clear thinking that despite the odds of finding this money I somehow did.

The Psychologist was to spend several hours in my home and Mark’s home to observe

and discern the family dynamics. The progression was over a one month period and the

fear of losing my children again kept nagging at my insides but I felt this deep belief in

myself that pushed me forward.

It was a Friday evening that I was to pick up the girls for my weekend. As I helped them

out of the car Mark tersely stated “You can keep the girls I do not want them anymore!” I

was very surprised at his comment and stared at him with an open mouth. He quickly

threw their suitcases on the ground and sped away. The trepidation that had hung over

me for so long was lifted and I was elated. I learned the next morning that the

Psychologist had recommended in his report that Bella and Gabby were by all means

best to live permanently with me. His findings were not positive at all with the living

environment with Mark and his girlfriend Jane. “Thank you god “! Was all I could think

of and repeat to myself over and over. I learned that Mark too had received a copy of

the report and I suspect he conceded the kids after reading it.To this day Mark has

never appeared in the lives of the girls nor made an effort to reach out. I found out that

he had surrendered to a nonexistent life resulting in having no record of a bank account,

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a driver’s license or a passport. This was all due to the avoidance of paying any type of

support for the girls. I was inwardly pleased he would not cause them any more pain but

saddened that they too experienced a loss as their older sisters had done as well.

Chapter 32 More Signs, More Reality

Life never seemed to move smoothly down one particular path as I was to experience

once again. Life came to an abrupt halt about six months after the girls were with me full

time again. I was at work when I received a phone call from the principle at Bella’s

school. To say I was shocked at what she had to say was an understatement. She

asked me to meet her at the police station as Bella had disclosed sexual molestation by

her dad and step-mom. I thought I was going to throw up in that moment and I dropped

the phone after she finished her affirmation. ”Oh my god” I yelled “this cannot be

happening”! But she again reiterated the conversation and I hurried to get out the door

to see my Bella. I sped all the way to the police station and was grateful I was not pulled

over. When I bolted through the front door I almost ran into a police officer that was

standing in the front of the lobby. I could barely get my words out as I explained why I

was there. I was ushered into a small room with a chair and a couch where Bella sat

with a calm and composed woman that smiled at me despite the horror on my face. I

see now that she was trying to keep things calm for Bella and urged me with her eyes to

follow suit. Bell jumped off the couch and squealed “Mommy”! I ran to her and hugged

her until she wiggled out of my arms from my grasp.

As I sat there and listened to Bella recant her story of how she was touched by Mark

and her step-mom I could not help but feel incredibly helpless and dazed. What were

the chances of me marrying a second man that would lay hands on his own daughter?

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Was I a bad person for not seeing any signs? What the hell?! Our meeting lasted well

over an hour and the summation was absolute. The officer explained that due to the fact

that Bella had a disability she would not be a credible witness in court. The officer

absolutely believed that Bella’s statement was true but because Bella had difficulty in

articulating and explaining fluently what had happened it would not be credible in a court

of law. So again we had to walk away and the result was that another person would be

allowed to walk free from these distressing and atrocious situations. I could only fall

back on my faith and believe that God had a plan. And as much as I questioned or

begged to know the answer I had to surrender again and believe that everything

happens for a reason. The blessing that I took from these circumstances was that Mark

had made the choice to stay out of the girls lives and they could begin to heal.

Chapter 33 My Blessed Life

As always time moves quickly and the pain in life fades. My life was turning around and

I was so grateful. It appeared true when I surrendered myself to god, good things would

happen. I found that life did not mystically become perfect but my attitude and

perseverance were a big factor. In reflection I had gone in to the Recovery house with

an anguish and pain so deep I thought I would never recover yet I came out a new

person with a peacefulness I had not felt in many years. My faith in god and belief in

myself had symbolized my freedom. The time spent in recovery opened my eyes to

aspects of life I had not even dreamed could be possible. This was a critical time in my

journey that I now know was part of the universe’s plan.

During this time my daughter Brigette moved out with Sylvia and started living with her

boyfriend, the father of her baby. Brigette was living in a domestic abuse situation and

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the reoccurring drug and physical abuse that she endured caused her behavior to

become more out of control. Her coping skills combined with her ADHD and what we

discovered later was Bipolar weighed heavily on her acting out. Her daily outbursts of

forcefulness and aggression toward me resulted in police intervention and inevitably

social services had to step in. I see now that the inconsistencies of my life and

insufficient stability for the previous two years impacted her gravely. After several

altercations with drugs and physical abuse by her boyfriend, Social Services stepped in

and deemed it necessary to remove my granddaughter Sylvia from their home. I

received a call from the social worker asking me to come in for a meeting. I was

shocked to learn that if I did not take custody of Sylvia then she would be put up for

adoption. Initially I panicked thinking that I already had two young children and was

recently out of recovery but she was ours and I was determined to provide a healthy

environment for her. As well I was surprised and pleased that after all of the turmoil I

had endured the previous two years, the Ministry would even allow me custody. They

had assured me that after speaking with my counsellors and doctor that they were

confident of their choice.

Hence another new chapter to my life and I felt a purpose to move forward. My daily

routines with my girls and granddaughter brought me much joy and happiness. All of

my girls were happily in my life and we all felt a newfound stability. Niki was still living on

her own and Sammy was getting ready to graduate. Brigette would come by daily each

week to see Sylvia and I was happy to see her in counselling trying to pull her life back

together. She had left her boyfriend and was determined to have her baby back. I found

it rejoicing to once again arrive at a peaceful time with my girls and it was also evident in

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their behaviors. The family dinners, going out for Sushi and the one on one of just

hanging at home with all five of the girls was the ultimate. We were a happy and strong

unit of women that loved each other deeply. However the years since Matthew had

passed were always close in my heart. His little face and beautiful smile lit up my heart

as I remembered him so clearly. I had a profound experience around that time and I

knew at once that my angels were close by. After supper and the dishes were done

everyone went about their bedtime routines and I lay down to snuggle Bella and Gabby

as I did each night. When I lay down with Gabby we chatted about her day for several

minutes then out of the blue she turned her head toward the ceiling and stared vacantly.

I was startled at her abrupt change in behavior but was more shocked at what she had

to say. “Mommy, shush Matthew is talking to me”. Her expression was so serious and

she was focused as if someone was literally speaking with her. As she gazed intently up

to the ceiling I felt a rush of peace go through me. Her face lit up in a way I had never

seen before as she giggled and smiled as if in response to someone. When I asked

what made her so happy she replied” Matthew says I look pretty in my party dress and

my dancing is beautiful” This statement resonated to the fact that Gabby did indeed love

to dress up like a princess and dance. Her apparent conversation went on for about ten

minutes as she conveyed to me how much Matthew loved me and was always taking

care of her sisters and me. Once the conversation was over it was like Gabby had come

out of a trance. Her little face resumed looking sleepy and she rubbed her little eyes and

said she was ready for sleep. When I asked her the next day about the conversation

with Matthew she looked confused and did not recall the experience.

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Chapter 34 Believing in Myself

I thought deeply about our financial future and how I would be able to support my girls in

a comfortable lifestyle. I did some research on steps to take then I had attended an

Employment Centre to learn how to update my resume and gain some insight into what

career would be a best fit for me. I had done sales and customer service in the past but

was contemplating a combination of both or a different route. The case worker that I had

befriended was very helpful and encouraging. I had confided my past two years of

challenges and she was hopeful and very supportive that I could begin anew. One day

she told me that in her previous career she had been a recruiter and felt strongly that

with my personality I too could become one as well. I was not familiar with exactly what

a recruiter did and was delighted to learn that communication and people skills were a

number one factor. She also stated that once established the opportunity to make six

figures was a reality to that career. I was hooked. That would be perfect for me being a

single mom and providing for my kids. So with her guidance and encouragement that is

what I did. I got on the phone and called several Recruitment firms in my area. With luck

I landed a job as a new recruiter about forty five minutes from my home. I caught on

quite quickly and before I knew it I was one of the top recruiters. After six months I

wanted to get a job closer to home so I again made some calls and introduced myself to

the office managers. I lucked out with the third call and had scheduled an interview the

following week. I was told by the manager the only reason that he agreed to meet with

me was because of my outgoing and positive attitude on the phone. After the interview I

was told I could start the following Monday. I was ecstatic! Now I was eight minutes

from my door to work and I was making fifteen thousand dollars a year higher than the

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previous job. I found my niche and within the first year I was the top recruiter in the

company across Canada and not only was I receiving hefty base but I was also

receiving a fifty percent commission on all my work. I was informed that was

unprecedented and I was so proud of myself. Again I was blessed as who would have

thought that just a year and a half before that I was at the lowest point in my life. I was

thoroughly enjoying my job but I had some concerns about the way the employees were

treated from the manager. He had no qualms about belittling my coworkers on a daily

basis and would not hesitate to shout out obscenities when he felt angry. I could not

tolerate being disrespected and I made a point of telling him. After that conversation he

backed away from me but continued his bad mannered and disrespectful stance with

others. Eventually this stressed me out to the point that it was affecting my work and I

was getting that familiar feeling of anxiety. I decided that no amount of money could

allow me to stay in a toxic environment so with the emotional support of my family I

decided to strike out on my own and start my own recruitment firm. I gave myself a

deadline of 3 months. If it did not pan out in those three months then at least I could say

I tried. I was excited and fretful but I jumped in with both feet. Each morning I would get

Bella and Gabby off to daycare which was next door to their school and head back to

the house. For the first two months I sat at my kitchen table and cold called company

after company. I did not call any of my previous clients as I wanted this to be something

that was all mine. I finally made some headway and had secured three client visits. I set

up meetings with the office managers and was given my first three orders! Next came

the tough part of finding good candidates to match up with the companies. I took a lot of

pride in making sure that the personalities were a good fit on both sides. I found this to

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take a little more time but I was determined to make the fills a success. I was

approaching the end of my third month and was starting to panic as I had not filled an

order. I remember taking a moment to reflect over the past few years and appreciate

how far I had come. It would not be the end of the world if this endeavor did not work

out but I prayed anyway. I was so thankful for being alive and having my all of my

children in my life that I stopped worrying and decided to continue on. That was when I

got the shock of my life. To my astonishment on the last day of my third month I filled all

three orders and made twenty eight thousand dollars! In that first year working my

business I my business I accomplished filling many orders and brought in over one

hundred thousand dollars. I knew then that the point of all of that was not the amount of

money that I could make but the amount of faith that I kept.

Chapter 35 The Past Is not Far Behind

That following year seemed to fly by without too much interruption and between my

work and the kids I was enormously content. But my life has a way of throwing curve

balls and with the flow I must go. I started to become very concerned again for Niki as

she kept finding heartache and disrespect in each relationship she entered. To my

dismay she had confided that Mike was again in her life. She would go to visit him

periodically and was adamant that he had changed. I was so unhappy that she did not

see him for the person he was. Even though she confided in previous abuse, she

discounted that and embraced him into her life.

As I have learned over the years some of the victims of sexual abuse more often than

not desire to have that approval and validation from their abuser. And for no other

reason than guilt and shame. The hundreds of time that Niki and I discussed the abuse

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she endured in the past seemed to not matter as she continued to keep him in her life.

My heart ached for my girl as I could only speculate on the pain and shame that she

was feeling inside.

I was also to discover that Brigette too had welcomed Mike back into her life. Again

many conversations regarding the damage that was done, but to no avail. I had no

control over my girls’ actions as they were now adults and were on their own journey. I

could not help but feel responsible for their estimation of their personal view of self and I

frequently questioned myself “What would their lives be like if I had left the marriage

sooner?” To this day with I still have that nagging thought even though in my rational

mind I know that it was not my fault.

Sammy being the youngest of the three from that marriage seemed to feel the need to

totally extricate herself from Mike. Perhaps seeing the pain and struggles that her

sisters endured was reason enough. I clearly remember the day when Sammy was

about seventeen and took it upon herself to call Mike personally. She asked him point

blank “why did you beat mom all those years?” His answer without skipping a beat was

“because she deserved it”. I truly feel that that conversation had a huge impact on

Sammy. If she had any desire or hope of having a relationship with this man she did not

now. Niki and Brigette did not have the same effect of realization and that made me

sad. But I accepted and understood the depth of damage that they had endured and

found solace in understanding their reasoning.

After a year of having custody of my granddaughter Sylvia and many months of

counselling on Brigette’s part the decision to hand back custody was established.

Brigette had been true to her word and attended anger management and one on one

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counselling. She felt strong enough to care full time for her daughter. As happy as I was

I was also sad as Sylvia had made a big impact on my life and we loved her so much.

We missed her beautiful little face and morning smiles but were able to see her on

weekly visits with Brigette.

All in all out life was good, I had a good job my girls were all healthy and again I thanked

god for my blessings.

Chapter 36 Helpless and Consequences

I started to notice that Niki’s behavior was becoming more erratic. When she visited I

was alarmed to see dark circles constantly under her eyes and noticed a big drop in her

weight. Also her attention span was very low and her usual upbeat and happy

demeanor was replaced with a tense nervousness and impatience with her sisters and

myself. As well her visits became sporadic. Each time we talked and visited my concern

grew deeper for her well-being. Her life seemed like an endless tale of sorrow and

mishaps. Finding a healthy relationship did not seem to be in the cards. As hard as she

tried and as much as she desired healthy relationships they were not transpiring for her,

and I knew how desperately she wanted one. More importantly I wanted her to find one,

I wanted her to find happiness. I look back and see the mirror image of my path. The

lack of self-confidence and self-love had consumed her and this spilled into

relationships she encountered. As she confided in the repetitious abuse of each

relationship my heart broke for her. She did not see how beautiful and deserving she

was of a healthy relationship. As much as I reassured her over and over that she

deserved more she in turn leapt into more upheaval. I referred to her in my mind as my

tortured soul and would constantly pray for her to find peace. There was an incident that

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involved Niki but she did not reveal it to me until many months after it happened. She

was driving on a dirt road a ways out of town. She said she was driving a large pickup

truck that belonged to one of her friends. She commented on how she was speeding

around corners feeling in control of maneuvering such a large vehicle. In a split second

she said she lost control of the truck and it started to roll over and over. “I was like a rag

doll mom, I never thought I would stop rolling over and over”. Within moments she

blacked out. When she awoke she was about fifty yards away from the truck and as she

gazed up she saw the truck all crumpled upside down and the wheels were still

spinning. She said “mommy I had my seat belt on yet I was thrown a long ways from the

truck and I did not even have a scratch on me, I believe Matthew was with me mum”

Immediately I knew that Niki had angels and instinctively I knew they would always be

with her. I took great comfort in that knowledge.

Sammy had been in a relationship with a fellow since grade eight. He became part of

our family and was around the house constantly with Sammy. The days and weekends

that we all spent together watching movies and having BBQ’s were always full of love.

Bella and Gabby adored him and I was happy that Sammy did not appear to head down

the path of abuse that I and her sisters had. After high school they made plans for a

long future together. They also adopted a dog from the local animal shelter and they

named her Trixie and she became their new child. It was around this time that Brigette

had settled into a new relationship with a fellow named Nigel and was expecting another

child. The day arrived for her to deliver her baby boy Brett however we the family were s

not allowed to be present or even invited to the hospital. I was very saddened by this as

it was a repeat performance of my life with Mike. I hoped her life would be different in

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the relationship with the father of her new son and that she would create a new life for

her and Sylvia. But as time went on the girls and I were slowly and completely edged

out of their lives. Initially Brigette confided that Nigel would be unhappy with her after

spending time with us and eventually he persuaded Brigette to not see us at all. Sadly

each time she was with me her anger would erupt for reasons that were not clear and

she would exclude her sisters and I for usually months at a time. This became the

routine of our connection and although it became a habit I was still always hurt and

would take her back with open arms.

My business had started to flourish and I rented an office not far from home. Sammy

had graduated that summer so I hired her to work for me and we were a great team. I

was very proud of how quickly she picked up on the industry and she was very pleased

with herself. She was a natural people person and our working together only cemented

our bond.

My life could not have been better financially and emotionally. Every day I said a prayer

of thanks for my strength in overcoming my addiction. I realized that my path was

devised in such a way that there was always something better on the other side of the

pain. I was a perfect example of how trust and blind faith could result in a better life and

during this part of my journey I was delighted to see my girls acknowledge and

recognize this. They did not hesitate to tell me how proud they were of me and that in

itself made everything worthwhile. Their steadfast and unconditional love for me was all

I needed.

Chapter 37 My Knight in Shining Armor

It was a Friday afternoon after a successful week at work Sammy and I decided to

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celebrate by going out for lunch. We went to the Cactus Club restaurant as it was her

favorite and we walked in just before the lineup started to get heavy. As we were

ushered inside I looked up and saw a guy sitting at a nearby table having lunch. As our

eyes met I was suddenly flustered and looked away. He continued to smile as Sammy

and I walked by. I was caught off guard and felt a sudden rush of warmth spread across

my face. The table we sat at was directly across the room from this fellow and his friend.

I made a mental note of his table manners and his posture as he enjoyed his food. Just

before our food arrived I made my way to the washroom and upon returning to my table

I was once again face to face with this fellow. This time he pointedly said “hello” and I

stuttered a “hello” back. Back at the table I made mention to Sam and as she gazed

across the room she laughed and said “oh mom he is cute”. We continued our lunch

and when almost finished I looked up to see this fellow stand up and put on his jacket

as he readied to leave. He smiled the biggest smile I had seen in a long time waved

across the room at me and then was gone. For some reason I felt disappointed he had

left then quickly moved my mind on to work asking the waitress for our bill. The waitress

approached our table and politely handed me a business card. “The fellow that was

sitting over there left this for you and would like you to call him” she said. I felt my heart

race a little and Sammy squeezed my arm laughing” play hard to get mom don’t call him

for a couple of weeks!” I laughed back stating “I am too old to play hard to get! His name

was Pete and I called him the next day stating he had left his business card for me to

call him. He responded with “I did?” I fell silent, feeling embarrassed but he quickly

responded “I know, I am just kidding!” That was a great insight into his sense of humor

and jesting. We went on our first date the following week and after three months of

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dating we both knew that we were for each other. Our relationship started as friends

and blossomed into a solid and respectful union that I only dreamed could be possible.

He too had endured two failed marriages and the similar pain from those experiences

was something that bonded us deeply. We both felt had we not endured the previous

unhealthy relationships then we would not have been so fortunate to find each other.

With my five girls and his three children we became the epitome of a blended family. I

could not have loved his kids anymore if I had given birth myself and my girls adored

him. We dated for a year and that year was filled with lots family gatherings, dinners and

just hanging out. My family was happy that I had finally found a fellow that respected

and loved me. I knew that this man would move heaven and earth in his love for me and

boy was I right.

Bella and Gabby were quite young and I was happy for them to have a positive

influence in their life. All three of my older girls gravitated to his kindness and his

presence of a strong role model. Pete had two dogs that had been his pets for many

years and as the girls and I did not have pets we welcomed these two fellows into our

lives with delight. One of the dogs, Tommy, had really taken a shine to Bella and to this

day is “her boy” .The older of the two became my earth angel long before I was aware

of that. His name is Brodie and he lives to sit beside me, on me or around me. He would

follow me from room to room and I could not even go pee without him guarding the door

and waiting. As a rule he rarely went to anyone but me and was notorious for growling

at others, but never at me. It took me a while to discover his unyielding loyalty for me

however that became so evident in ways that I did not expect.

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So here we were at a new junction of our lives with kids and dogs and a new found

peace. About a year into our relationship his job offered him an opportunity for

advancement in the next Province of Alberta. As much as there was encouragement for

me to start this fresh chapter in my life there was misgivings from Niki, Brigette and

Sammy. I rationalized that they were adults and had their own lives but they were

looking through a different set of eyes. Each one of them grew angry with me saying I

was abandoning them. Other members of my family thought it was silly for my girls to

react this way as they were adults. But in my heart I saw them as my little girls whom I

had shared many years of pain and sadness. I completely understood how they felt. So

I was torn between leaving them and starting new even though I was a forty five minute

plane ride away. But as fate would have it I moved with the younger girls and promised

the older girls I would be out to see them or fly them out every month.

Pete and I spent a couple of weekend’s house hunting and finally came upon the

perfect one. We flew out to meet the Realtor for a second look before signing the

paperwork. I walked upstairs to look at the master bedroom one more time. As I entered

the doorway a flash of light caught my eye. The sun shone in through the window

landing on a shiny penny sitting in the middle of the room. I smiled and picked it up

rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger. Perhaps this penny would bring good luck

to our new home. The girls were enrolled in a good school nearby and I kept my

promises to see the older girls regularly. I flew out as promised once a month and spent

several days visiting the three of them. Time had eased their minds a bit but every now

and then they would lash out in anger that I had abandoned them and I understood that.

There were several times when I flew out to BC Brigette and Niki were too busy to see

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me. I now look back at how they were trying to punish me and it worked as I was again

filled with sadness and guilt that I had left my girls. Aside from those times life was

going at a good pace and I was counting my blessings. After we had lived in that house

for about six months, we decided to complete our circle and get married. We had a

small wedding at the house with several close friends and family. Sammy was my maid

of honor but sadly Niki and Brigette could not make it. It was a wonderful day and in the

eyes’ of my children I saw such a happiness that I had not ever seen before. This gave

me the extra belief that I had finally chosen the right man to join our family.

When I took Sammy to the airport several days after the wedding she started to cry.

“Mommy I am so happy that you and Pete got married” but I miss you so much”. Those

were bitter sweet words that reinforced my guilt at not being back in BC with the girls.

The telephone calls were every other day with updates on how their lives were going

but each call always ended in sadness that we were so far away from each other.

Life continued to be consistent and stable. Bella and Gabby were doing really well at

their new schools, my job was challenging me in new areas and Pete had done so well

in his new role that management wanted to promote him yet again with another move. I

was very proud of him and due to my previous track record of moving I was unfazed by

the work that would be involved with packing up. Just knowing that we would be a wee

bit closer to the girls in BC made me happy.

Just before Christmas Niki had come out to stay as she was not able to come to our

wedding. We were so happy to see each other and it was a wonderful visit as we caught

up on the last few months. She shared a book on Buddhism with me as she was trying

to find some spiritual comfort. She conveyed her hope that this practice would find her

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the peace she has always been seeking. She revealed that she always had a feeling of

loss inside her and could not put her finger on it and she felt like her life was consumed

with finding a piece of her that was missing. As she told me this I closed my eyes and

thought of our precious Matthew and the many years before when his death left a hole

in both of us. She confided that after all of her failed relationships she was destined to

be alone with her dog Louie. He was her savior as he had been with her for several

years since he was a pup. He had become her child, her world. She said she felt having

a solid and healthy relationship was not in the cards for her. My heart sank at her words

as I had witnessed over the years the repetitive abusive relationships she had been in.

Here was my beautiful baby with so much to offer the world and she was so broken. I

reassured her that life would turn around and someone would be blessed with having

her as a partner. She smiled and said “I love you mummy and thank you “I believe she

believed me in that moment. The next day she he went back to BC after her three day

stay with hope of practicing her new belief and finding some peace. As a parent we can

only pray that life will be kind to our children and know deep in our hearts that we would

trade places with them in an instant if it were not.

It was the winter of 2009 in Edmonton and the temperature had dropped to minus fifty

two Celsius. I had never experienced such a drop in temperature nor had the kids. We

were pretty much confined to the house over Christmas and after what seemed forever

January brought sunshine and warmth. One morning Sammy called to tell me that Niki

had to put Louie down as he had bitten someone and was considered a danger. All I

could think of was how much pain this would be to Niki as her dog was like her child. I

immediately called her and when my name came up on her call display she immediately

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answered “Oh mommy” she sobbed “My Louie is gone”. As she cried my heart felt her

pain through the phone. I wanted to reach through and wrap my arms around her to

comfort and console her. I could feel the depth of her pain and the anguish as she

mourned. She called me for several days after that and I would console her wishing I

could be with her.

Chapter 38 The Pain is Too Real

January 2010 was the year that a virus, H1N1 had hit our city and people were

becoming so ill from it that there were even deaths. At the time Pete was travelling out

of country for work and the girls and I were busy with our mom and daughter activities.

We went out to for a nice dinner one night and the next day bought treats from the

bakery for our movie night at home. Snuggling together in mommy’s bed was a

treasured time that I had repeated over the years with all my girls. During the movie I

had gotten up to go to the washroom and a wave of nausea and disorientation

overcame me. I almost fell to the floor as I made my way across the room. The girls

were immediately frightened by my actions. “Mommy! “Yelled Gabby “what is wrong?” I

reassured her I was ok but knew instinctively I was not. I ended up vomiting most of the

night and was feeling unhappy Pete was not there with us. The next day I called him

and he made a call to a close friend to take me to the emergency that afternoon. As it

turned out I did indeed have that virus and was advised to stay on bedrest for a few

days. Pete arrived home shortly after that and I do not recall too much as I was pretty

sick. It was a week before I started to feel better and that evening we received a phone

call. Somehow the news that I had the virus had made it to my girls in BC. However the

story taken on another interpretation and that was that I was on deaths door. When

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Pete answered the phone he was standing across the bedroom. All I could hear was a

shrill voice yelling on the other end. I did not realize immediately but soon learned it was

Niki. She was panicked and her voice piercing as she yelled in a panic she was getting

on a plane in the next couple of hours and coming to see me. Pete picked her up that

night and she fell into my arms in relief when she got to the house. The next morning I

awoke feeling like I had never even been sick, I thought it odd considering how sick I

was. I let Niki sleep in and made breakfast and coffee for her. She came into the kitchen

and in that moment, when we looked at each other it will forever be in my heart. We

intuitively smiled at each other and hugged as if it were the first time in a long time.

Gabby was delighted as Niki would sleep with her while visiting.

Niki had informed me that she had a sore on her lower back that prevented her from

sleeping or moving properly. I called my doctor and was given and appointment for her

shortly after lunch. After breakfast we got dressed and headed to the Mall then out for

lunch to kill time before her appointment. Niki seemed so relaxed and at ease I was

delighted as it had been a long time since I had seen this peacefulness on her face. We

laughed and talked of the many years past when she was little, to a time when the world

was different and it belonged to just her and I. Out of nowhere Niki said “I know that I

will never have children mommy and that is ok”. I was a little surprised by her revelation

and replied that I thought she would be a wonderful mother and not to be too hasty in

her conclusion. She just smiled with a self-assurance and replied “We’ll see mommy”.

Once we arrived to the doctor’s office we had a bit of a wait as it was a packed room. I

was concerned with the amount of pain that Niki was in and grew a little impatient as we

sat and waited. It was obvious that whatever was hurting her it needed to be looked at

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immediately. As it turned out she had a boil that had manifested into a serious infection.

The Doctor prescribed a month supply of OxyContin and as much as that was a

concern to me it lit up Niki’s face with delight. We immediately went to the drug store to

fill the prescription and she waited in the car. When I came out I took a single pill out of

the bottle and gave it to her with some water I had purchased. “Mom I am going to need

more than one pill, I am in a lot of pain” she said tersely. “I know honey” I responded but

let’s just have one to start”. I had an uneasy feeling at her response but kept firm in my

decision much to her displeasure. Over the years I was all too aware of the

prescriptions that Niki was reliant on for depression and anxiety. As much as I

understood her pain and struggles were genuine and ongoing I still always worried

about her. We had spoken many times on how addiction to pain medication was a

serious practice but she always assured me she was fine and had everything under

control. As we finished up our day Niki was starting to feel the effect of the medicine and

was getting sleepy. As we pulled into the driveway Niki said” Mommy I just want to nap

for a few hours, ok”? Then we can watch a movie together”. I agreed putting my arm

around her as we walked into the house.

As we made our way up the stairs to Gabby’s bedroom my little faithful dog Brodie

padded up silently behind us. I helped Niki take off her jewelry and get into her jammies.

She held a gold cross and chain up and said emotionally and with affection “mummy

this is the cross you bought me for my eighteenth birthday”. I smiled and felt warm

inside. Niki sighed a tired breath and said “don’t forget to wake me up for the movie”. No

sooner had the words come out of her mouth then Brody jumped up on the bed beside

her. “Get down” I said and to my shock and surprise he growled at me. I would never

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have expected that from him and let him be. After I kissed her forehead and told her I

loved her I quietly left the room to let her sleep.

The girls came home from school and Gabby excitedly ran in asking where Niki was as

she wanted to spend more time with her as she was leaving the next day. I explained

that she was sleeping in her bed and that we would let her nap for a few hours then we

would all watch a movie. Pete surprised us with Chinese food for dinner. I was going to

get Niki up to eat but decided to let her sleep a little longer. After dinner was over the

girls got into their bath, I cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen and made my way

upstairs to my room. I took my makeup off and put my jammies on as I waited for the

girls to come in. I had just come out of the bathroom when Gabby came racing into my

room. Her face was slightly pale and her eyes alarmingly large. Her voice shook as she

said “mommy, Niki won’t wake up, I even shook her back but she did not move. Mommy

I am scared” The hair on the back of my neck stood up and as calmly as I could I replied

“it is ok honey, she is just really tired”. I walked quickly into the bedroom and Niki was

laying on her side facing away from me. Brodie lay right up against her back looking at

me with a sorrowful look in his brown eyes and I sucked in my breath as put my hand on

the back of her neck. It was warm and a little clammy and that moment gave me a relief

t she was ok. “Baby wake up” I said as I lightly shook her. She did not move then I felt

my chest tighten and my throat started to narrow. My voice started to raise as I called

her name several times. I reached for her shoulders and as I rolled her towards me I

looked down at her ashen colored face and lifeless body. I felt panic rise in my chest

burning its way up through my lungs and pausing in my throat settling there like an acid

devouring it. Oh my god my mind screamed this cannot be happening! I started to

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shake her gently and pulled her face up to mine calling her name over and over. I held

her tight and yelled for Pete. In what seemed a lifetime he came racing in the room and

helped me lift her off the bed and onto the floor. He immediately began CPR while

yelling to call 911. I was numb and in shock as I looked down at my baby girl motionless

and unmoving. Screams slipped through my lips soundlessly as my mind was trying to

digest how this could be. I did not see Gabby and Bella come up behind me until I felt

them both clinging to either side of me. “Mommy what is wrong with Niki” they sobbed

and were squeezing me tightly as I tried to maintain my balance. A familiar ache was

spreading throughout my body as I felt a profound anguish drape throughout my chest. I

was in another dream so surreal and unyielding it stunned me. Time stood still in those

first moments as again I felt I was having an out of body experience. I do not remember

dialing 911 but in what seemed like seconds the paramedics were up in the room with

us.

They moved her body off of the bed and into the hallway so they would have more room

to perform CPR. Pete held me back as they worked on trying to revive her. After several

minutes they announced my girl was gone. In that moment I broke free from Pete and

lay on the floor alongside my girl. I stroked her face and kissed her over and over

begging her not to leave. As I kissed her lips my tears silently gently onto her cheeks

and sat there sheening under the light focusing my attention to how truly still she was. In

some ridiculous way I thought she would open her eyes and tell me she was ok. I

begged her to tell me she was ok. As the phlegm built up in my throat I was silently

choking yet could not stop sobbing, trying to fathom how my beautiful girl could be

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gone. Those moments of insufferable pain and racking sorrow would change me yet

again.

I was slowly spiraling into a hole that was as unimaginable as it was devastating. My

husband though became and continuously encompassed my life as my rock. Pete took

care of everything from the moment she passed including arrangement of the cremation

to the Celebration of Life that was to be held back in BC. There was not even a remote

chance that I could function as a normal person as I had become incapacitated

emotionally and physically.

The days that followed are buried deep somewhere in my mind and I cannot pull them

out. Sammy flew out the next day of her passing and stayed with us until we flew back

to BC. She came with me to the Funeral home to view Niki’s body and as we drove we

held hands, taking turns squeezing with assurance that everything would be ok. As we

drove into the parking lot to my surprise I saw Mike sitting in his truck watching us. An

intense anger roared through my body as I defiantly glared across the way. His eyes

met mine briefly then he looked away. As we made our way inside the reality that Niki

was gone was still not registering. I was surprised at the interior of the funeral home as

somehow I had expected it to be dark and foreboding. There were many windows from

each side of the room that graced the walls providing a false sense of life. The director

appeared stiff in his black suite with a silly mustache that looked like it had been glued

on his face. His smile was tight and his hand was clammy when I shook it. Just being

near him raised my anxiety level up ten notches. When he spoke words tumbled out of

his mouth simply and directly. “Welcome” he said “We have prepared your daughter,

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please come this way” “are you kidding me’? I screamed in my head” we are not here

for a buffet” and I thought I was as crazy as him even thinking that.

We walked down a long hallway that seemed endless and we passed several doors.

When we finally stopped I held my breath and Sammy and I locked eye contact. This

was it this is where I would see my Niki for the last time. As we walked slowly into the

room we held hands again to draw strength from one another both inhaling deeply

taking a few steps forward. There was a casket at the end of the room that looked

grotesquely oversized and I could not fathom how Niki’s petite body would look inside.

As we drew closer I saw her laying there but this was not the body of the girl I knew and

loved for twenty nine years. There before us was the physique of an individual posed as

if in a horror movie. Her head on an angle, her neck slightly tilted back and her lips

parted as if she was screaming into the universe. In that moment I witnessed what

appeared to be a silent and still act of exorcism. Her face was actually contorted as if

she was expelling every ounce of pain, rage and agony she had ever experienced. I

could envision her soul escaping up through her body and out of her mouth releasing

into the heavens. Intuitively I knew she was finally at peace. That vision was bestowed

to me from the goodness of the universe and will forever give me comfort to know her

life was not in vain.

The next day a clear memory that I recall from that time was a phone call from Niki’s

biological father Mike. As he had been in and out of her life despite all of the damaging

past he somehow felt that his demand of her being buried in his city was foremost and

without question. He refused to sign the paperwork to release her body unless I agreed

to this. The incredulous and outlandish request knocked the wind out of me as I

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grimaced in another unimaginable pain. I was falling deeper into that void of blackness

while struggling to fully accept my girl was gone. It took one phone call from Pete to

Mike and miraculously it was settled, we would share her ashes and I could bury my

girl. The arrangements were made and we flew to BC start to fully mourn Niki.

I had received a healthy dose of medication from my doctor to numb the pain and help

me sleep, although sleep would be a luxury that I would never again enjoy. But in my

despair to alleviate and interrupt the steady path of grief I started to drink wine to begin

and end each day. Now I could function. I was a coherent, I was presentable but I was a

screaming mess inside.

We had to wait two weeks before attending the funeral as she was cremated in another

Province the paperwork took more time to complete. This just gave me more time to

drift in my abyss of sorrow and slowly detach from reality. The day of Niki’s funeral woke

me at six thirty am and I immediately threw up. It seemed like yesterday since her

passing and the apprehension of this day was unrelenting. I tried everything possible to

stall the moment when I had to walk out the front door and get in the car. Alcohol my

comrade in grief nudging me violently to partake. I grabbed the bottle of wine sitting on

the counter from the night before and took a big gulp like it was my last breath of air.

That familiar warmth spread down my throat and I felt my blood hum through my body. I

felt that immediate reprieve as it dulled my pain and blurred my thoughts. I liked that

feeling. I do not recall getting dressed or for that matter even leaving the house. I only

recall sitting in a pew staring at the pictures of Niki surrounded by vases and vases of

magnificent pink and white Lillie’s. The fragrance saturated the air and helped me to

stay focused in the moment. I had brought a thermos filled with wine that I tucked into

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my purse. Every sip and gulp throughout the service aided in subduing the pain and

prevented me from screaming out my heartbreak. As I looked around the chapel I was

overwhelmed with the amount of people that filled the pews and stood at the back of the

room. There must have been three people and I felt the vast outpouring of love for my

girl and deep sadness in the tears in every eye. The service was beautiful and a funeral

I learned, is also a teacher about those who you loved. Every single person conveyed

stories of love and kindness about my girl that I did not know and everyone had a

beautiful story on how Niki had touched their lives. She was truly loved by so many and

the world was going to miss her. I felt so proud to have had such an amazing and

beautiful human being in my life for twenty nine years. I was blessed. The next day we

had a small gathering of family members attend the burial of Niki. Another day in my life

that was surreal. We had secured a plot of earth next to my Matthew inevitably joining

them again on earth as they were in heaven. It had rained the day before, leaving the

ground soggy and water-logged making my feet even heavier with each step I took to

her graveside. As I approached Matthew’s gravesite and saw the gaping hole next to

him that was dug a few hours previously I shook my head in disbelief that I was there to

bury another child. My girls surrounded me from all sides as they lowered her casket

into the ground. We held tightly to one another and our energy was depleted and

desolate as we muffled sobs in unison. As I looked up to the sky in prayer I thanked god

for allowing two perfect souls to be a part of my life although for a short time.

After Niki’s funeral we flew to Kamloops to spend time with my mom and brother before

flying back to Edmonton. I remember sitting on that plane looking out the window at the

clouds as they looked so majestic, so embodied with pureness. As I strained to look

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deeper I was certain that I had caught a glimpse of my baby’s faces as I knew they were

angels soaring through those veils into heaven. We flew in around nine thirty that

morning and rented a car. Pete had lived the first part of his life in Kamloops and he

wanted to drive by and show me the house that he grew up in. Minutes later from the

airport we pulled up in front of the house. It was a very old house and the outside was a

little dilapidated with an old wooden staircase that ran about ten deep from door to

ground. As we grew closer I gasped.

On the front porch sat two ceramic angels and one ceramic Buddha. They were so

beautiful and looked so out of place on those old stairs, yet they sat in a row

together with the sun shining down gleaming in the sun light.

Instantly I knew this was my Niki and my Matthew letting me know they were with me. I

held back cried tears of joy although a little confused why there was an extra angel. But

I dismissed the thought and reveled in the pleasure of such a sign.

I got out of the car to take in the full impact of this image. I stood there for

several minutes thanking my babies for giving me this sign, took a deep breath and

stepped back to return to the car. As I was turning my eye caught a figure on the side of

the house at the edge of the backyard. I yelled at Pete as he sat in the car.

To my amazement there stood a ceramic six foot white angel with wings that extended

three feet on either side reaching for the sky. The head was bowed in soundless prayer

and its stature was striking. I blinked and was at first confused then shocked at its

extraordinary presence. Here was this beautiful statue standing randomly in someone’s

back yard silently beckoning me to take in its beauty and also acknowledge the signs.

The significance of the second angel would be revealed at a later time.

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We flew back to Edmonton a few days later and I was immersed in the undertaking of

packing as we were moving to Calgary at months end. It was a daunting task that took

more of my energy that was already depleted. I moved methodically from room to room

envisioning how Niki had been there only a short time before. I could still hear her

delightful laugh and see that amazing smile that lit up the room. It was not fair. We

moved to Calgary one month after Niki’s celebration of life and I hoped that new

surroundings would ease the pain just a little. A couple of weeks after we were settled in

the new house I received the Coroner’s report for Niki. It arrived in the mail and I was

surprised to see it as I was not expecting or had requested a copy. I sat down on the

kitchen chair and as I ripped open the envelope I felt a wistfulness overcome me as I

saw her smiling face in my mind’s eye. As I started to read the report a list of numbers

jumped off the page and I was curious as to what they were. As I read in more detail I

realized that those numbers declared the number of prescription drugs that were found

in her body. There was twenty nine different prescription drugs apparent in my baby’s

body, I was crushed. I was shocked to realize, the amount of pain my Niki must have be

in over the years was insurmountable. I wept and I wept as prayed to Niki to forgive me

for any pain I ever caused her. The pain she endured for so many years was gone but

sadly so was my girl.

Chapter 39 Time Does Not Stop

Calgary was to be our home for the next four years. We had beautiful home that I

relished cleaning in order to keep my mind occupied. Again Bella and Gabby were

settled into new schools and life appeared to have a sense of normalcy. We were

fortunate to live in a community surrounding a lake that we could utilize for swimming in

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the summer and snowmobiling and ice fishing in the winter. I was especially happy for

the girls as they too were grieving but had year round activities to enjoy and keep them

busy.I was still so numb that my daily movements were strained and I was still

unable to work as my emotional state would not allow me to focus for eight hours a day,

let alone interact with other people. I could not tolerate being away from my safe haven

for very long as I found my home to be my sanctuary and was consoled by the cocoon

that I had established. I hunkered down for a long winter that lasted four years. After

we were settled for one week Gabby excitedly told me she saw Niki appear

upstairs on the 2nd floor where our bedrooms were set in hugging in a half

circle around the stair case. Around midnight Gabby had come out of the

bathroom and as she was making her way back to her room she saw Niki at

the top of the stairs facing my bedroom. "Niki was standing on the top stair

staring into your bedroom" she said “She was in a long white dress that

flowed down to her ankles and she looked so peaceful. But mom the only

thing that was different was her hair was short" I felt a warmth rush over my

body and smiled. "Are you sure her hair was short” I asked. In her life she

had beautiful long hair that she took much pleasure in having. I thought it

odd about the hair but soon forgot as I felt comfort knowing my girl was

allowing her presence for us to see. That was the first of the many times that

Niki would let us know that she was close.

Pete had befriended some of our neighbours and encouraged me to meet

them however I wanted no part of socializing. I was quite happy in my grief

shutting out the world. My days though had become not only my grieving

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time they became my escape time. Since the funeral I had continued with

my daily comfort of wine and beer. I had established my day to day routine

with getting the girls up and off to school and saying good bye to Pete each

morning as he went off to work. Once the house was empty at about 9:00am

I would pour myself a healthy glass of wine and start my day. I would clean

and clean and daydream and cry. My angst over losing Niki did not even

begin to subside as I was promised by well-meaning friends that it would. I

was tormented by all of the things that I did not tell Niki when she was alive.

I was reeling in guilt over the pain that she had endured most of her life. I

could not let go nor did I want to of my first born girl. I muddled through our

life for the next few years, and did however meet our neighbours and found

contentment in having a social aspect to my life. While I continued daily to

get through with my wine, I found this extension carried into the weekends

having drinks with friends. Once I had established new relationships with a

wonderful group of friends our house became the focus of weekend

entertaining. Usually every other Saturday night I would prepare a buffet of

food and we would all have drinks and unwind from the previous week. I was

alright to get-together in my home but I found it a real challenge to venture

much further. My first real break down away from home was at an Elton John

concert. Pete had acquired the tickets for a group of us to attend and was

excited at the prospect of getting me out of the house for an evening. I was

hesitant to leave the house but agreed after much coaxing from him. It was

the first time I had been dressed up since Niki’s funeral and I made sure I

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had a couple of glasses of wine to bolster my energy level before we left. All

seemed fine until the lights were out and the concert began. Suddenly I

could not breathe and I started gasping for air. I felt the whole stadium full of

ten thousand people was closing in on me and I was terrified, I was

suffocating. I started to cry grabbing Pete begging him to take me home that

moment. He practically had to carry me out as my legs turned into jelly and

my mind shut down. I do not remember the drive home or Pete helping me

undress and get into bed. All I remember is a dark cloud of anguish

consuming my mind and body moving me into my world of silence. Wine and

beer, my reprieve from reality was keeping me content but I was finding my

weekend nights were becoming shorter as I would be passed out and in bed

sleeping by 8:00. I would force myself to appear a normal as I could for Bella

and Gabby as they had a life to continue as well however not the luxury of

escape that I did. Every day I would prepare meals from scratch for a home

cooked meal and we sat as a family and talked and laughed through dinner

as they would share their days. I was determined that although a big part of

me had died I was not to encapsulate the girls and Pete in my disintegration

of self. I truly felt I was living two lives at the same time. As I plummeted

each day into my abyss of despair there was a sliver of ordinary that I could

portray to my family and friends. So that was how I lived for the next four

years. As promised I was flying my girls out from BC every couple of months

as I missed them terribly. To have all of my girls around me showed promise

in the anticipation that I would be semi whole again. Brigette had her two

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children which helped to ease the pain of loss by occupying her mind but

Sammy on the other hand struggled I think the most. I knew that she missed

Niki very much and without me to visit and comfort her every day I could see

and hear the sadness overcome her greatly. Our times spent together on her

visits were a mixture of joy and distress. Again I felt guilt that I was not

there to support her all the time and it pained me so to know my girl was so

sad and alone. I encouraged her to move to Calgary to be closer to her

sisters and me but she was determined to get her life on track with the

friends that she had grown up with and familiar surroundings. I was also

distressed to see how the impact of losing her sister was weighing heavily on

my Gabby. Out of all of my girls she was the most introverted when it came

to displaying her feelings and emotions. As I struggled to gain a steady grip

of my own reality I could not help but feel her pain. The fact that Niki had

passed away in Gabby’s bed made the sorrow that much deeper for her. I

arranged to have Gabby see a counsellor much to her annoyance and she

was adamant that she did not have to share her feelings with anyone let

alone a stranger. But I did convince her and she was quite receptive as the

counsellor was a younger woman that Gabby felt she could connect to. I sat

in on the initial sessions at Gabby’s request but it did not take too long

before she started to open up and was comfortable with me not there. I

remember distinctly during a session that I sat in on when Gabby disclosed

her sighting of Niki outside of my bedroom door. After Gabby had described

what she saw the counsellor asked her if Niki always had short hair. I thought

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it odd that she would ask a question like that however was amazed at her

response. The counsellor said “When we leave this earth our souls do not

take their earthly prides with them”. For example Niki did not need to have

her long hair as the importance was no longer an issue”. Both Gabby and I

looked at each other in surprise and smiled. Unfortunately the counsellor

went on maternity leave and that was the last time Gabby agreed to see a

counsellor.

Chapter 40 The Car Went Over the Mountain

It was approximately six months after we had moved to Calgary when Pete

and I decided to take a road trip back to BC to see my mom. Mom had

dementia and it was progressing quickly. She was in the same city as my

brother and he was doing an amazing job of making sure she was well taken

care of, but the day he called to say she had taken a turn for the worse I

wanted to see her right away. The road trip was about 11 hours and I was

looking forward to getting out of the house and having a change of scenery.

Pete had purchased a Viper sports car and was eager to take it on a long trip.

It was a muggy summer morning when we headed on our way. As we

travelled through the Rockies from Alberta into BC I was in awe of the

spectacular beauty it held. The massive glaciers that sculpted the mountain

sides and flowed into dramatic peaks with sweeping valleys were stunning.

As the car hugged the corners of the road while we slipped around the windy

roads I looked over the side of the mountain thinking it was a long ways

down. But gazing at the magnitude of its grandeur that thought went away. I

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was thinking how blessed we are to live in such a beautiful part of the

country and could not believe that Mother Nature never ceased to disappoint

with her beauty. We were about three hours into the trip when the sunny

skies turned black and a deluge of rain spilled down on the road hampering

our vision. I have always felt confident with Pete as he was an excellent

driver and could master any type weather we came upon so I was not too

concerned. My usual yet illegal posture when driving long distances is to

reverse my seat belt from across my chest to under my armpit. The stiff

fabric would always dig into my shoulder and it annoyed me. As the rain

began to fall harder and the windshield was becoming shadowy I suddenly

had a moment where I felt myself disconnect from the present. I vividly

recall an instant that I methodically moved the seat belt into the proper

position and looked over at Pete. The next moments were probably the most

surreal moments that I have ever experienced. In a fleeting moment I felt the

car hydroplane and we did a three sixty turn as if in slow motion. We spun

around twice and as we were turning for the third time the back end of the

car came crashing to the ground and was facing the opposite direction of the

slick road. Whatever we hit it was hard enough to lift the nose of the car off

the ground and create an inertia. Our heads hammered forward with such a

force that immediately slammed us back into the head rest. Suddenly the car

did a full somersault forward and the car gained more speed as we flipped

over the side of the mountain. My mouth opened wide but no sound came

out. I was suspended in a detached state of mind and body yet I was

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watching myself from another level. As the car careened end over and over

down the side of the mountain we were graced with the trees that protruded

from the side of the mountain and they embraced and shielded us from the

direct drop into the river. We spun forward with ease tumbling like a toy car

and with each flip our heads snapped back like twigs. The car somersaulted

five times scraping trees and brush on our way down then ceremoniously

landed at the bottom of the mountain in the tumultuous river. I was

screaming the whole time in one long breath totally unaware of doing so.

When we landed in the river the nose of the car was pointing up to the sky

and my side of the car was elevated about three feet out of the water. On

Pete’s side he was submersed in a foot and a half of water and it was rising

rapidly. On impact of landing Pete later relayed there was a silence that cut

through the air as I had immediately stopped screaming. After a five second

interval and reality set in Pete yelled “are you ok Lee?” I responded by

leaning over to him cupping his face in my hands and kissing him squarely

on the lips replying “Yes I am fine.” The water was rising swiftly and if we

had not been tilted onto the driver’s side we would have drown immediately.

Within seconds of impact Pete scrambled to release my seat belt and

struggled to gain some movement as the water continued to pour in. Once I

started to wiggle around he leaned forward and started to punch my door

with his fist trying to hasten our escape. When that did not make any

headway Pete twisted his body so that his feet were across my lap and

heaved on the door several times until it opened a crack. I heard a loud sigh

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of relief from him as he positioned himself to help me out of the car. One last

shove from Pete and the car door creaked open wide enough to escape

through. Just before we were about to scramble out of the small opening I

looked in front of me and I caught my breath. There perched on a tree

branch under the dash was a shiny penny, sitting afloat. Our eyes

immediately connected and at the same time we declared “Niki”. In the

hurried moment I felt a fleeting sense of comfort. As I wriggled my body and

made my way through the door I fell onto the ground feeling a quite

bewildered and shaken. Pete scrambled out behind me and lifted me into his

arms. He cradled me up against his chest and I felt a flood of relief and love.

The rain was coming down harder now and Pete carried me up the side of

the mountain that we had plummeted down just moments before. I felt like a

rag doll and my mind was still trying to grasp what had just happened. The

rain was in a torrential downpour and I heard voices as we neared the top of

the hill at the roadside. I was surprised to see so many people standing there

anxiously watching us rise up to the top. The look in their eyes was

unfailingly distressing. What a sight we must have been with hair soaked to

our skulls, me clinging onto him like a child and Pete’s pant legs muddied

from the steep hill he had just climbed. I felt moved by the compassion of

those strangers that were eager to help in any way. Pete lay me on the

ground and immediately I was surrounded by gentle peering eyes and a

stream of questions. One person pulled open an umbrella and held it over

me while another wrapped their coat around me to keep me warm. Once I

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was settled with people huddled around me for warmth and comfort, Pete

made his way back down the hill to the car. He stumbled and almost fell

down the steep hill intent on retrieving our personal belongings. He spent

several minutes pushing and pulling to retrieve our suitcases and personal

items as the car teetered in the river. His arms were loaded as he trudged

up the hill slogging through mud and debris. I recall someone calling out to

him and asking if there was anyone else down the side of the mountain and

did he need a rope to pull anyone up. When Pete explained that he was the

other person from the accident the look of astonishment and shock spread

across each face at once. Heads shook in disbelief as the reality was evident

that neither of us should have lived through what just happened.

The next few hours felt like they were indeed the longest days of my life. We

were transported to a local hospital in Revelstoke that was 2 hours away. In

the back of the ambulance I was strapped onto a crude board they called it a

stretcher and my neck was wrapped in a brace to prevent movement. If you

have ever travelled the highway on Rogers Pass, you will know that the roads

have not been updated for many years imparting a less than smooth public

road. Each dip and bump in the road sent pain into my whole body as I

clenched my teeth and shoulders in an effort to ward off the discomfort. Pete

sat in the front seat with the driver oblivious to the stark vibration of each

bump as I sustained the constant feeling of being pummeled all over. After

we arrived at the hospital we were to learn that they did not have the right

equipment to assess the extent of my neck injuries but as it turned out Pete

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had cracked a bone in his wrist as a result of punching the door open for our

escape. So off we went again winding and jarring down the highway for

another two hours until we arrived in Kamloops that held a larger hospital. It

was 11:00pm and Pete had called my girlfriend Evelyn to let her know what

had happened. She did not hesitate to make her way over to the hospital and

I was happy to see her standing with Pete in the hallway as they wheeled me

out. I flashed back 24 years ago to giving birth to Brigette in this very

hospital with Evelyn by my side and I smiled. Luckily there was no serious

injury to my neck only soft tissue damage. The doctor stated it was actually

a miracle that except for a crack in Pete’s wrist we both walked away from

the accident without a broken bone, scratch or bruise. We flew back to

Calgary the next day and learned the tow truck company retrieving our car

from the river had a challenge pulling the car from the river as it was fully

submerged. As well we were informed the car was in the shape of an

accordion and they too were surprised that we got out alive. We were

grateful to be able to walk away in one piece and I truly believed was my

angels Niki and Matthew were watching over us.

Chapter 41 The Healing

Once back in Calgary our life resumed and the grieving and overwhelming

helplessness continued to madden my spirit and soul. The days rolled into

one another and I stayed in my bubble of reprieve with alcohol to dim the

reality. Every moment of every day and in the moments of the dark of nights

I lie awake and feel the powerful penetration of that lesion called grief. I had

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many bouts of self-destruct as somewhere deep inside of myself I believed

that losing two children was a sign that perhaps I was paying for my last

life’s debts. But that rationale was superseded by the fact that I was so

blessed with my four other healthy girls. When I had moments of wanting to

leave this earth to join my babies in heaven, a silent power deep within stopped

me. And for that I am grateful.

Over the next two years, the seasons meld quietly and unheeded as I carried

on in a fog. But Pete was always there for the girls and I to make sure that

we found joy and happiness in our daily lives. His consistent support and love

never ceased to amaze me. His office was fifteen minutes away from home

and most afternoons he would take a late lunch to come and see how I was

feeling. Some days he would surprise me with Lillie’s and other days he

would bring me home lunch. He made a point of making sure every weekend

the girls were either going for a ski doo ride, head out for a movie or just

plain playing in the snow during the winters. In the summers he would have

the girls invite their friends and they would go water skiing and hang out on

the tubes. Also he and the girls constantly encouraged and coaxed me to

carry on in the summers that were filled with camping trips, boating and lots

of visits from my Sammy. Brigette only came out a few times during our

stay in Calgary and continued her customary on and off approach to our

relationship. When she was one on one with me, the girl that I knew from

years past was loving and happy, but once in the environment of her partner

Nigel she became angry and insolent. When you are a parent and experience

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a relationship with a child who is continually angry at you it wears you down

inside. No matter how hard you try or how much you analyse the situation

there never seems to be a clear answer in the moment. So you either accept

it or let it erode your spirit. I was continually experiencing both. My

relationship with Bella and Gabby intensified as we found comfort and solace

in how each other was feeling. To lose their sister was very traumatic for

both of them and having our home as a safe haven to retreat from the world

was nourishing for their little souls. Gabby had always been close to me and

was even more attached to me during this time. She would have her friends

from school to spend the night at our house on weekends as she found it

very hard to be away from the family. I was happy that she had a semblance

of order to her young life during this period of grief. After school she would

come into my room as I had retreated to my bed, which was almost every

day. She would sit beside me on the bed and reach out for my hands, pick

them up and hold them tightly while she gave the back of my hand a kiss.

Then she snuggled up beside me and we wrapped our arms around each

other and held each other tight. The unspoken devotion and understanding

we had for each other was the true epitome of a mother and child. Bella too

was very connected to me yet remained quiet for some time about Niki’s

passing. There was not the usual questions and outward grieving yet I saw

the heaviness in her eyes and felt helpless to take the pain away. One

Saturday that Pete had been away on business the girls and I made plans to

go to a movie. Just as we were getting our coats on and ready to go out the

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door, Bella collapsed onto the floor and a sound so heart wrenching and

guttural ripped out of her throat. I was stunned and frightened as I could not

comprehend at first what was happening. I quickly reached down to help

Bella up and my heart broke into bits as she screamed “Niki, oh my Niki!”

Tears flowed down her cheeks and her chest heaved like I had never seen

before. She sobbed Niki’s name over and over and each time was more

heartbreaking than the last. I dropped to the floor and wrapped my arms

around her holding her in my lap. Her sorrow overcame her little body as she

cried and cried for almost an hour. The bottled up despair and sorrow had

taken its toll and she could no longer absorb any more in her heart. After

two and half years I finally felt strong enough to go back to work and was

pleasantly surprised at how quickly I adapted to the new routine. I also found

it to be a little liberating from my daily routine of drowning my feelings in

alcohol. I still had to have a couple of drinks when I arrived home from work,

but it was better to drink for a few hours than the whole day. Working

created a nice balance in my life and I became more focused on my

surroundings. The pain of losing Niki continued to course through my body

yet the screaming rolled into loud voices that pounded in my head less

frequently. I had started a ritual of buying myself a bouquet of Lillie’s’ each

week to have the beautiful aroma infuse my home as I found this habit to be

soothing and bittersweet.

That summer when I started my new job Sammy called to inform me she was

pregnant and very excited to step into motherhood. She met her boyfriend

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Daniel, at Niki’s funeral and they had been together for the last year. The

two of them flew out to Calgary a couple of times and I was pleased to see

she was very happy with him. She obviously loved him very much and it was

plain to see that he too adored her. I was so elated to see her happy once

again and I prayed that she would have a healthy baby and her life would be

blessed. As the pregnancy moved forward Sammy was thrilled to inform me

that I would be able to be present in real time at her first ultrasound. With

modern technology I was able to view the ultra sound from my office one

province away. The baby was growing and healthy and the excitement of a

new little one joining the family was thrilling. The following March Sammy

gave birth to a beautiful and healthy little boy that she named Dominic David

Lee. His middle names represented Daniels’ dad and my nickname and I was

honored.

I flew out to BC and spent several days after the birth, feeling so blessed that

I was a new Nana. Memories flooded back to the years when I came home

with my new babies and I felt wistful. I hoped that that Sammy would never

come to feel the pain that I did having a troubled marriage throughout

raising a beautiful child. She settled into motherhood with the fierce love and

adoration of her baby boy. She and Daniel had a house that she took

pleasure in taking care of and embraced her domestic life with ease. I was

looking at a mirror image of myself as our daily phone calls revealed her love

of cooking and cleaning and enjoying relishing being a mother to her little

man Dominic. Pete continued to work hard for his company and once again

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he was recognized for his success and was offered a new opportunity that

included a relocation once more. We were to move back to BC and he would

become one of the VP’s in his company. He had worked extremely hard for

this company for almost thirty years and I was so proud of him that he finally

achieved what he had always hoped for. I was over the moon with joy and

excitement at the prospect of moving back to my girls and I remember the

day I called Sammy and told her. A loud cry escaped her lips as she dropped

the phone and shrieked with happiness. When she picked it up she was

crying and saying “oh mommy I am so happy, I am so happy” My heart

skipped a beat at her response and was so excited to be going back. So once

again the role to pack up another home was my job for the next few weeks.

So here I am ready to embark on our third major move within the last three

and a half years. I must admit though, the process was far easier this time as

I was not experiencing a loss but looking forward to a new beginning. We

moved back in the fall of 2013 and at that time we were to learn that Pete’s

dad was gravely ill in the hospital. We spent a few visits with him in hospital

and his health was taking a turn for the worse. My heart went out to Pete as

he struggled to maintain an upbeat expression while visiting his dad. I

listened as they expressed missing each other the past few years as we lived

so far away. The conversations they shared were warm and happy as they

recalled their favorite stories from past years. Sadly the second week after

we settled in our new home Pete’s dad passed away, another loss in the

family seemed so unfair. I was very sad for Pete as he recollected the

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promises he and his dad had made and so many plans they looked forward

to in spending quality time together. Instead of the fishing trip he was

looking forward to he had to attend another funeral.

Celebrating the birth of our new grandson and passing of his dad provided a

mixture of joy and sadness on our new journey and start in BC. It was

wonderful to hold Sammy’s precious baby in my arms and be around family

that we had missed for so long. I adapted easily to our new home and

surroundings only wishing that Niki could also be here with all of her sisters.

Our family unit was revived where it had left off and life was good. My

drinking had decreased substantially as the past three years had played out

it’s tempo of grief. Being back in BC flooded me with so many memories of

when Niki was in my life and all of the years I had with her. The struggle of

keeping the anxiety completely at bay was ongoing though. My days were

filled with routine and again cleaning. I believe I developed OCD after the

passing of Niki. There was never enough I could do to completely obscure

the unrelenting feelings of loss. I could go through each day without having

my wine or beer until I was in the process of making supper. As usual I was

asleep by 8:00pm sleep for about four hours then wake up constantly

throughout the night only to have memories play out over and over fusing

with anxiety keeping me awake. When I look back after having had lost

Matthew I substituted having more babies as a way of moving through and

not confronting my pain with his loss. I had too many babies back then to

allow myself the luxury of drinking to subdue the pain. So even though

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almost three years had passed since Niki’s passing alcohol was still my

liberator and my crutch so as not to accept and confront the pain. There was

always something to bear on the life path of my journey. We had settled in

and I started back with my recruitment business from home. I was very

fortunate that I did not have to go to an eight hour a day job, I would not

have been able to do it. Again more blessings throughout my journey.

Christmas was quickly approaching but I just did not have the energy or the

enthusiasm to get excited. As with the past couple of holidays the weeks

leading up to the celebration would be overcome with sadness and sorrow. I

could not shake the anxiety and that impeded my ability to join in the Xmas

spirit as I had so many years ago.

Chapter 42 Does It Ever End?

The week before Christmas Pete became very sick and was admitted to the

hospital. He developed a grave case Pneumonia and was told he would be

there for an undetermined amount of time. He was on a daily oxygen

treatment to assist with his breathing and had several antibiotics flushing

through his system via intravenous. I had never seen him so sick and I was

very frightened. The doctor told us that he was in grave danger of not

responding to the medications and there was a possibility that he would not

get well. I panicked at the thought of losing another loved one and my

anxiety increased tenfold. How was this possible? I was not finished grieving

my Niki and I was close to suffering another adversity. After all Pete was my

rock, he was my pillar of strength that carried me and sustained me through

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each tragic event that played out in my life. I prayed and I prayed as I was

totally sure that I could not bear the thought of losing him. All of my girls

were on high alert as they too could not imagine another loss. Sammy came

racing over to the house the day she found out he was in the hospital and

grabbed me, holding tight as she broke into tears. “Mommy I do not know

what I would do if I ever lost you or dad”. I told her in my bravest voice I

could muster that dad will be fine and we will not lose anyone. Seeing the

pain and fear in her eyes at the thought of another loss was almost too much

to bear. My faith continued to support my feelings of fear and that supported

the courage that I conveyed to my girls. All of the kids and I made daily visits

to the hospital to provide as much love and positive encouragement as we

could. Pete’s son Nick whom I love as much as if he were birthed by me and

his beautiful wife Nisse were an integral part of helping me to get through

each of those days. The holidays had come and as Pete was still in the

hospital, I found by Christmas Eve, I could not even bring myself to put up a

Christmas tree. I was feeling that familiar paralysis starting to seep into my

body, I was floundering again at the thought of losing another person. Nick

and Nisse stayed at the house with the girls and I for a few days helping the

girls and I put up the tree and some decorations around the house. I was

very grateful for the support as my body was slowly going into panic mode

again and I felt frozen with anxiety. Those days that Pete was in the hospital

were very difficult and as I visited him daily I became extremely

disheartened each time we left his hospital room as he would struggle to

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say good bye to us through his oxygen mask. I strained to keep a cheerful

disposition around the kids and with much effort moved through the motions

of daily tasks. But thankfully after ten days he started slowly to show signs of

recovery. Finally Pete was released just after New Year’s and we were all so

happy that we avoided another trauma. I was pleased yet surprised at how

quickly he gained his strength and returned back to work. The days flew by

in January and again life returned to routine. I was finally starting to feel

whole again, the anxiety was starting to lessen and I was feeling a new found

freedom from pain. My immediate response to the anxiety was no longer

picking up a glass of wine or bottle of beer, I had even stopped with the

antidepressants. I finally accepted that I did not need the alcohol to get me

through the days. I had come to recognize my coping with the pain and

anxiety was to fill my body and mind with anything other than acceptance, I

reached another milestone. I would have frequent dreams of Sammy and

Niki and would feel much comfort when they would appear. Quite often I

would pray to the girls to hug me and let me know they were with me as I

would drift off into sleep. More often than not in the early hours of the

morning I would slowly awake and become aware that Moo our cat is

sprawled out across my chest with his paws wrapped around each side of my

neck.

By now Brigette had come back into my life again and I was elated. Through

the previous years the on and off relationship not only kept me away from

her but from my two precious grandchildren. I was very sad that I missed a

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large part of their little lives as they were reaching various milestones.

Although it took me many years of struggling with Brigette I accepted that

this was the way it would be. I always felt deep down in my heart that things

would change and I would have all of them in my life on a consistent basis.

Until then I could only do as any parent would and that was love them

unconditionally and be there for whenever they needed me. Brigette had

called me out of the blue and asked me if I would go with her to Niki’s grave

site. I immediately hesitated as I had not been back since the day she was

buried. Actually she was buried next to Matthew and I could never bring

myself to go to his gravesite as well. The painful memories and the anguish

of losing my two children caused me to protect their beautiful faces in my

mind not in the ground. But I felt that this could possibly be a moving

forward step for me if I was to go with Brigette. So we bought flowers and

spent the afternoon sitting on the grass talking about the years gone past

and all of the changes that we were forced to endure. It was nice to spend

that time with Brigette as it had been many months since we had spoken. I

missed her, I missed Niki and I missed Matthew. But she was here alive as

was Sammy, Bella and Gabby. I felt immense gratitude that they were still in

my life.

Sammy would be over with baby Dominic almost every other day. It was

wonderful to resume the life we always had previous to our move to Calgary.

She was an amazing mother to her baby boy and the house was again filled

with laughter, joy and the squeals of baby happiness. Sammy had a

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connection with Dominic that I had never seen between a mother and child.

That baby would constantly be smiling and had a belly laugh like no other

when he was with her. It was a rare and amazing relationship between

mother and child. One day Sammy had confided in me that she was not

feeling as well as she wanted to. She was feeling extremely anxious and

moody and my heart went out to her. After her long grieving passage from

Niki, I was so happy believing that having a baby would be her salvation from

the pain. It was apparent that she could not have been anymore in love with

another human being than she was with Dominic but I noticed that her

demeanor was changing slightly and she expressed relief when her doctor

had prescribed medication for her apparent distress. Several years before

her pregnancy she had been in two car accidents and the results of soft

tissue damage were unrelenting and ongoing. Her doctor’s prescription for

pain medication was concerning to me but she assured me it was not a

problem. However when the doctor prescribed new medication in a larger

quantity I was becoming concerned. This went on for about a month and

even though she was a conscientious and attentive mother, I worried as I

had seen that strain before. But she assured me that I had nothing to worry

about and that she would be fine. That nagging little voice in the back of my

mind was still on high alert but I wanted to believe her and accepted her

response. I suspected that perhaps she was experiencing postpartum

depression and would make sure that I researched as much of the symptoms

and remedy before I talked to her about it. In the meantime she pushed

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forward and tolerated the symptoms. I too believed that she would get past

it and gain her old self back. It was during this time that her dog Trixie whom

she had rescued from the animal shelter many years ago became sick.

Trixie’s age and inevitable arthritis consumed her days with crying out in

pain to Sammy. Coincidently Dominic had contacted a flu bug that made him

very sick resulting in projectile vomiting. I had been at the hospital the night

before with Sammy and Daniel having the baby checked out and was told

they would have to just wait it out. The next morning after Daniel had gone

to work I went to the grocery store, loaded up on some groceries for the kids

and stopped in to see how Dominic was feeling. When Sammy opened the

door my heart dropped as she looked so stressed and fragile and I could hear

Dom crying in his room. She quickly ushered me in then disappeared down

the hallway to pick Dom up. The poor little guy started to vomit as she held

him in her arms and she looked at me in a panic. “Mommy he is still sick and

I am so worried” she said. I took him from her arms and told her to go and

have a shower as I would clean him up and change him. Ten minutes later

she rushed into the living room where I sat cuddling Dom and she started to

cry. I handed Dom to her and told her to just sit with him while I put the

groceries away and tidied up. Trixie was sitting in the middle of the room and

was literally calling out to Sammy as only a dog could. Sammy talked to

Trixie like she was talking to a child, comforting her with words of love. I was

amazed at the bond the two of them had and was saddened to see Trixie in

so much pain. Several days after that Sammy called me crying saying she

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knew it was time to put Trixie down and needed Pete and I to take her to the

vet. The very last picture I have of Sammy was that day just before she put

Trixie down. She was laying on the floor with Trixie hugging her and soothing

her with whispering words of love. Her body pressed up tightly up against

Trixie with leg crossed over her lower body, the two fusing into one. The

veterinarian had given a shot to Trixie and we stood sadly watching Sammy

hugging and caressing her animal child as she transitioned in to the next life.

The quiet sobs that escaped Sammy’s lips were not unlike the same sounds

that Niki cried when she had to part with her dog, her animal child Louie four

years earlier.

Pete’s health had quickly returned to normal and he was in full work mode

when his company had flown him to the UK for a week. The girls and I kept

busy as Sammy and Dominic spent almost every day with us. We would take

walks to the park or leisurely walk the mall and the days flew by. Bella and

Gabby never grew tired of having their big sister and baby nephew to hang

out with. Brigette had arranged a Bowling party for Brett’s eighth birthday

and we were all excited and looking forward to that Sunday afternoon. The

day before the birthday party my childhood friend Shannon came out for an

overnight. We had been friends for over forty years and maintained our

friendship that included a twice a year sleep over to catch up. I was watching

Dom for the day as Sammy stated she had several errands to run and girls

and I relished our time with that little man as he was such a good and happy

baby. As well on that day my dad and his wife had come out for a visit as

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well. We all sat around the table before supper and were gabbing when

Sammy came bursting in claiming that she needed to get home and start

supper. I quickly packed up Dom’s stuff and Sammy gave kisses all around to

everyone and disappeared in a rush out the front door. The afternoon

resumed and we all enjoyed our visit. After supper I was sitting on the couch

with Shannon watching a show on TV. Out of nowhere Brody jumped up on

my lap and started acting very agitated. I was a little concerned as it was out

of character for him as he was such a docile dog. But his actions were

becoming annoying as he would not sit still on my lap. Shannon commented

that she had never seen a dog behave like that before and I just assumed he

was not feeling well. When I went to bed that night Brody jumped up on the

bed beside me and slept right up against my body. I found it to be a little odd

as he usually slept at the end of the bed but I cuddled him and fell asleep.

Chapter 43 Pain Becomes My Inspiration

I awoke at my usual time around 6:00 am and started my day. My daily

routine included Sammy texting me good morning each day and sharing her

schedule for the day with Dominic. I was a little surprised that I had not

received a text but surmised that perhaps she had a late night and was

having a little extra sleep in. I had arranged to meet Sammy and baby Dom

at the bowling alley for noon. My morning was uneventful as I unloaded the

dishwasher and fed the dogs looking forward to my grandson’s birthday.

When I finished my morning coffee I texted Sammy again but received no

response. It felt a little odd as by that time we had texted and spoke on the

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phone a couple of times. I reasoned that she was tired and just snuggling

Dom for a little longer than usual and would wait for her call. I got Bella and

Gabby up and fixed them breakfast and talked about what a fun day we

would have at the birthday party. Just before noon I called Sammy’s cell and

it went straight to voice mail. Now I was getting concerned as I surely would

have had some response from her. The girls and I hopped into the car and

drove to the bowling alley where we were greeted by a flurry of excited and

rambunctious eight year old boys racing around. When I asked Brigette if she

had heard from Sammy and she told me she had not I had a sick feeling and

a slight panic came over me. Again I called her cell and when the voice mail

came on again I really panicked. I left her a message asking her to call me as

soon as she received my message as I was worried as there was no reply. It

was hard to concentrate on enjoying Brett’s party when all I could think of

was Sammy and Dominic. Within about half hour I found a phone number to

the friend’s house she was staying at. When I look back that was a sign from

above helping me as the phone number was unlisted and I do not have a

clue how I found it. I reached a cheery voice on the voice mail on the other

end at about 1:00pm. I explained that I had not heard from my daughter that

day and I needed to know that she was alright. I waited an hour for a return

call but to no avail and impatiently called back. Again the same cheery voice

told me that they were busy and she would call me back shortly. Now I am in

full panic mode and feel physically sick and I don’t know why. The birthday

party ended and Gabby and I jumped in the car to head home and Bella was

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going to spend the night with Brigette and the kids so she stayed behind.

Still no word from Sammy. My third call to Sammy was at 3:00pm and yet

again no answer. I now feel like I am suffocating and my anxiety is through

the roof. Just at that moment my cell rings on the dash and it is an unknown

number. In that split second a wave of nausea and a foreboding sensation

swept through my whole body. When I answered the call I was greeted by an

RCMP officer whose name I do not recall, and was asked if I was on my way

home. When I answered yes and he told me he was waiting for me at my

house. Instantly my foot took on a life of its own and I pressed the gas pedal

through each light and I thanked god that there were no red ones. When I

came around the corner of my street and into our cul-de-sac I saw three

police cars parked in front of my house. “Oh my God no!” my mind

screamed. I barely got the car into park before I leapt out onto the driveway

and was confronted by two police officers whose eyes emanated a sadness

of bad news that could not be mistaken for anything else. Their eyes met

mine and instantly I knew. My legs buckled under me and I fell to the

pavement as a scream of Sammy’s name sought to make its way up through

my throat. One of the officers helped me off of the ground and suggested we

all go inside. Gabby is immediately by my side and we lean into each other

as we falter our way up the front stairs and into the house. The police

officers stepped into foyer behind us and I usher them into the living room.

The female officer clears her throat and informs me they were sorry to report

that Sammy had passed away the night before. My mind raced as fast as the

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words tumbled out of my mouth. How? Why? This could not be, I just kissed

her goodbye yesterday as she raced out of my house. Sammy had met up

with some girlfriends the night before and while experiencing pain in her

back a friend provided her with an OxyContin for her pain. She inadvertently

ingested a more powerful drug than what she thought she was given. My girl

overdosed. The pill contained 99% Fentanyl, a powerful synthetic drug that

belongs to a class of drugs known as narcotic (opiate) analgesics. It is cheap and offers

drug dealers an opportunity to spread their drugs further and make more money. It

works in the brain to change how the body feels and typically it is lethal and overdose is

usually inevitable. Especially when not gaged in a medical setting.

My mind would accept that my girl was gone. I wanted to die with each passing second

each time I saw her beautiful face in my mind. The sobs thundered out of my body and I

hugged Gabby knowing that her pain was just as deep. It had not been a full four years

since we buried our Niki and here we were again facing the tragic and painful news of

another precious girl dying. My body was void of any feeling other than my heart

pounding and breaking yet again. As the police officers sat in my living room and tried to

support me with their presence and comfort me with words, my mind was resounding in

shock. Their voices droned on as I tried to fully accept and concede to this unbelievable

news. Each time I tried to stand up my legs gave way beneath me and I started

hyperventialting.I remember through that fog looking over at Gabby sitting in the corner

with her knees up against her chest, her tiny body rocking slowly back and forth as she

stared blankly out the window. This was too much to take in I wanted to die right then

and there. I was being swallowed whole by a giant mass of blackness and devastation

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that ripped through my soul like a razor. The female police officer asked me if she could

call my husband. When I stated that Pete was in the UK the statement resonated as if I

were learning as well he was so far away. I made my way across the kitchen floor

reaching out to the counter along the way to give me support so I did not fall. I called his

cell but the voice mail came on right away. I knew I could not leave a message telling

him Sammy died that would be cruel. I then managed to call his office and express that

a family emergency had occurred and he needed to call home immediately. Within a

half hour he was on the other end of the phone as I sobbed and tried to make sense of

how we lost another child. Hence another piece of my life became a blur for the next

thing I remember is having a house full of family members and Sammy’s friends

crowded into my kitchen. The tears and the wine flowed as we all clung onto the most

recent memories of Sammy and the reality of her really being gone. Once again I found

solace and comfort in my bed under my covers away from the world. I was physically

unable to get up and even go downstairs to make coffee. The anguish was paralyzing

and an invisible vice grip had encompassed my whole chest squeezing my heart and

lungs with such intensity succumbing to death would be welcoming. It was during this

time that another altercation arose with Brigette. It was unfortunate as the time with her

did not usually last longer than a week before she was angry and shut me out of her life.

She had contacted Mike with the news of Sammy’s passing and informed me that she

would be attending the funeral with him. When I pointed out that he was not welcome as

he was not a part of Sammy’s life she became angry and defensive for him. She

advised me that she would indeed attend the funeral with Mike and there was nothing I

could do about it. My heart sank again. I felt like I had just lost two daughters and my

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sorrow knew no boundaries. Instinctively I knew that Mike would be having a funeral as

well in his home town and that Brigette would definitely attend that service so I made

the hard decision to ban her from this Celebration of Life if she did indeed accompany

Mike. I was concerned that she would somehow create a scene and that was the last

thing that I needed to worry about.

Several days after Sammy passed Pete had set a meeting with a funeral director to

make arrangements for Samantha’s Celebration of Life. On the way to the Funeral

home I asked Pete to stop at a cold beer and wine store as my anxiety level was

suffocating me. Pete ran in and bought three beers and I downed two of them before we

arrived to our destination. As I walked into the building I felt numb and anxious knowing

that this would have to be done again. It was like an unplanned ritual. As it turned out

we met with the same Funeral Director that had arranged Niki’s service 4 years

previous. Memories and familiar feelings flooded back as I became numb in response to

those feelings. Although I was there physically my mind was not taking in what was

being discussed. I remember looking at the man watching his lips move but not hearing

a word that was being said.

We were there for approximately an hour meeting with the Funeral Director and the

Pastor that would lead the Celebration. When we were done the date was set for Feb

22nd and that gave us approximately two weeks to prepare for the service. As I had

been estranged for over twenty years from Sammy’s biological father Mike and had not

spoken a word to him, I had an uncanny feeling that he would show up to the funeral.

Pete and I discussed with the Funeral Director having security on that day just in case.

The Funeral Director stated that it was not uncommon for security to be in place at

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Funerals as over his thirty year tenor he had seen unbelievable situations. It was usually

family members fighting over Wills and money and that our situation would be

undoubtedly mild in comparison to what he has witnessed in the past. We were given

the name of a reputable security firm that they used and were assured they would be

very professional. Pete called them and made arrangements to make sure that Mike

and my daughter Brigette, if she were with him were not allowed in the service.

My daily routine over the next couple of weeks was to force myself out of bed, have a

glass of beer after my morning coffee and continue having beer or wine throughout the

day. The empty bottles stacked messily overflowing the garbage pail on my side of the

bed. I have little recollection if any of those days that passed. I do know that we

received many heartfelt calls, messages and flower deliveries however cannot

remember who or what was said. My husband Pete was again my tower of strength

making sure that I was well taken care of as I could not function properly on my own.

The doctor had prescribed antidepressants that I was taking along with the daily

consumption of beer and wine. All of those combinations were like a double edged

sword in that they numbed my pain, my thoughts and my mind but were also a recipe

for disaster.

The day had arrived for the Celebration of Life and I felt an overwhelming sadness as I

awoke that day. I had to force myself out of bed and again I started my day with my

morning coffee and a beer to stuff those unbearable feelings of pain and sadness. We

had several members of immediate family and friends that were heading out with us so

we took two vehicles. I filled up my coffee to go cup with wine and headed out on a

rainy day to say good bye to my girl.

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Our dear friends Bob and Shannon had come out from Calgary for the day to attend the

funeral. Bob drove four of us as we followed behind Pete and the other members of the

family. We had a forty five minute drive to the Funeral home and I was lost in thought as

I stared out the window. As I watched the rain come down I envisioned them as tears

from heaven for all of the beautiful souls that were now with my Sammy. We were

stopped at a red light and for some reason I looked up into the front mirror. I saw a look

of panic on Bobs face and heard him say “shit! “In that split second I felt my body

slamming forward as a car had just rear ended us.” Oh my God” I thought how this can

be happening?” Bella was sitting beside me and started to cry as she was confused and

not sure what had happened. I comforted her as Bob and Pete along with the other men

had gotten out of the cars to look at the damage. The car that hit us was a write off and

the back right fender of our car was bowed in right over the tire. It took about 10 minutes

for the guys to take a crow bar and pull the fender off of the tire.

The saying goes “whenever you need a police officer there are none around” however

within two minutes of the accident two police cars showed up out of nowhere. As

chance would have it they were just driving by. When Pete explained we were on our

way to a funeral the officers told them to go ahead and worry about the paperwork later.

Although I was distressed over the accident thinking we would be late for the service I

smiled to myself and thanked Sammy knowing that she was not going to let us be late.

We continued on our way and things were going smoothly as we still arrived in plenty of

time. The Director of the Funeral home had arranged for a separate room for the family

and we all settled in there. I continued to drink more white wine although was not really

feeling the effects as the numbing process was in full gear. Many family members from

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out of town and close family friends arrived over the next forty five minutes. Shortly after

we arrived the office we were informed that a phone call from Brigette just came in

stating that she would like to reserve the 1st two pews at the front of the room across

from where we were sitting as she was bring her father Mike and my sister. The

administrator immediately shared this update with Pete and I, asking if we were ok with

this as they were not aware of who she was. Pete told them he would take care of the

call from Brigette as the people she was with were not invited. Pete called Brigette on

her cell and told her not to come as she would not be allowed in as long as she was

with Mike. She said she was coming anyways and that she was entitled to. We had the

security in place outside and the refreshments and food was being set up. I was

greeting everyone, my mind in a fog, waiting for the inevitable to say good bye to my

girl.

The waiting room was full of about forty family members and close friends. People

milled around catching up with each other as most of them had not seen one another

since Niki’s funeral. I had a continual glass of wine in my hand and my dazed smile

concealed the numbed agony cursing through my body. The room was brightly lit and I

sat on the couch with Bella close beside me holding her hand. There was a gentle hum

in my ears as the sounds of the room were dulled by my grief. I looked around the room

aimlessly then my focus was brought to an abrupt halt as I suddenly realized there was

only Bella and I left in the room. The door burst open and suddenly my dad ran in and

told me to stay put with Bella and not to come out of the room. Then he was gone. I was

confused and about to get up and go out to find out what he meant. The next moments

would be etched in my mind forever. Out of nowhere intense screaming and yelling

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voices pierced the air together with incessant loud banging outside the room. The walls

shook noiselessly as the sound was getting louder and louder. I froze and felt my throat

tighten as a scream escaped my mouth. The security that we had requested was in full

effect as I heard loud voices of men and women filling the air with a frenzied explosion

of commotion. Bella started to cry and said “mommy I am so scared” I held her tight

and told her it would be over soon and that nothing would happen to her. It was like

being in a movie only I could not see the actors only hear the chaos. That went on for

about 15 minutes yet it seemed like hours. At one point I saw the door open and in ran

my sister whom I had not seen for many years. She stood there and yelled at me with

jumbled words that I could not understand. It was in that moment I felt very in control of

myself as I stared at her without any emotion then immediately turned away as if she

was not there. I heard my dad’s voice as he came into the room behind her taking hold

of her arm telling her to leave. He quickly guided her back out of the room and the door

slammed loudly behind them. Several minutes after the raucous had ceased my

husband and family returned to the room bringing with them a heightened anxiety that

blasted through the room. I was informed that my ex-husband Mike, my daughter

Brigette her husband along with my sister and her family had arrived to attend the

funeral. They all walked across the parking lot together with Brigitte’s boyfriend following

behind with a video camera. When they approached the security guard Mike was

informed that he was not invited. Mike violently shoved the security guard to the ground

stepped over him and moved quickly to the front door where Pete his brother Brian and

other male family members stood. Mike demanded that he be allowed in. “This is a

private function and you are not welcome” Pete told him “You should leave,

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now”. Defiantly and with a sneer on his face Mike put his hands in his pants pocket and

as he leaned in towards Pete he smashed Pete in the jaw with his shoulder. After that

all hell broke loose as my sister and daughter and nieces started yelling and pushing

forward to come in. Pete, my brother Erin, Pete’s brother Brian and many others formed

a wall across the front of the building as Mike literally pushed head-on into Pete. Pete

grabbed him in a headlock and told him he had better leave. Everyone was going crazy

with arms flailing and everyone screaming and shoving each other. It was akin to a mob

flashing with zero boundaries and no concept of rational thinking. All of my immediate

family as well as close family friends were caught up in the mayhem as anger flared and

words were spewing loudly. People were pushing and shoving and aggression was in

full force as Mike and his group were trying to force their way into the chapel. The police

were called immediately and within minutes five police cars arrived simultaneously.

Mike started yelling to the police that he wanted assault charges laid against Pete as he

was not allowed in the building, claiming Pete assaulted him. During the face to face

yelling match with Pete, Mike was demanding that he was entitled to attend his

daughter’s funeral. Pete reminded him that he was not her father had not been in

Sammy’s life since she was three years old. He also declared that when Sammy did

reach out to him he rejected her. As well Pete reminded Mike that when Sammy called

him several years before and asked “why did you beat my mom up so much when she

was with you? Mike’s response was “because she deserved it”. There was not even a

flicker of remorse in his voice as he spit out the words. My sister whom I had not seen

for many years was yelling “Leanne is a shitty mom that is why Sammy and Niki are

dead!” into the crowd of people. When I learned she had said this I felt nothing but

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sadness for this woman who would intentionally disrespect her niece’s funeral and

make a scene that was so unnecessary and downright vicious. There was not a shred

of respect for Sammy during this sad time as they had made it all about themselves.

Harsh voices yelling all at once and pushing and shoving into walls developed into a

riotous pandemonium at its ultimate and the scene was pure bedlam. As the police

officers approached the front door where all of the confrontation occurred Mike grabbed

one of the officer’s arms and yelled” arrest Pete Taylor, he just assaulted me!” As he

was making this demand he held onto the video camera that Nigel had used to tape the

whole situation from the beginning. The officer nodded toward the camera and asked

“do you have the whole ordeal on tape?” Straightaway Mike yelled “yes, yes I do!”

adjusting his gaze to Pete with triumph. But when Mike passed it to the officer, he

calmly and purposefully informed Mike “if I see any physical assault from you

whatsoever on this tape I will take you to jail right now and you will not be arraigned until

next week”. Mike’s face dropped and his face tightened as he abruptly grabbed the

video camera back from the police officer, turned and walked away. The group of them

all walked to their vehicles and left. But not without yelling and swearing at all of the

people that were still arriving to the Celebration of Life.

My medication combined with the several glasses of the wine I had consumed quelled

any distress I felt for any of them that deemed it necessary to create such a spectacle

during such a sensitive time. Just as everyone was settling down from the fracas the

Funeral Director appeared moments later and directed everyone to line up as we were

to proceed into the Chapel for the service. As I stood there looking down the hallway

into the Chapel I saw what appeared to be dozens of magnificent Lillie’s arranged

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beautifully adorning large framed pictures of my Sammy. The vision of that beauty hit

me that she was truly gone and never again would I hold her in my arms. A sob

escaped me as I fell against Pete and he caught me before I bowed to the floor. Just

then the music began conveying the commencing of the Celebration. Pete helped me

up and as I tried to compose myself and I felt spent. He held me up and squeezed me

tightly as walked down the aisle together. A sea of sadness in so many eyes embodied

to my left and to my right. I felt light as if walking in a dream, my legs numb and my

mind dull with the sedation of nothingness as I was completely and utterly devastated

beyond comprehension. But Sammy’s Celebration of Life was simply beautiful. The

overwhelming love and sorrow that filled the room was harmonious and heartfelt

regardless of the malevolence that had transpired thirty minutes prior. One by one as

friends lined up to pay their respects, I cried, thanked and hugged every person that

Sammy had so lovingly drawn into her life. More stories of friendship and adoration for

my girl that I had so loved for twenty five years. I remember one woman whispering into

my ear as she hugged me “the pain has not started yet Leanne, may god be with you”. I

smiled and thanked her still not conceding to the full realization of loss as my mind was

still consenting to numbness.

For the following three days after the Celebration of Life I did not have the strength to

get out of bed. I was so exhausted emotionally, physically and mentally the grief had

taken on a life of its own. I have never experienced such an intense and constant pain

that enveloped my entire body. The pain in my chest and abdomen was excruciating

and so intense that I did not think I could endure another moment, but I did. I started to

have thoughts of how I could be with my Sammy and my Nicole and my Matthew

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without hurting Gabby and Bella and Pete. I knew it was not possible nor did I want to

leave this world, but the loss was so overwhelming my mind could find no escape.

Family members would call and ask to take me out for coffee or lunch and Pete tried to

encourage me but I would not even entertain the thought of leaving my room. There

was concern from family members that the last four years of grief and suffering I had

experienced with Niki was going play out again for another undetermined amount of

years. They were all far more worried than they let on. As I lay in bed each day my

comfort of consuming alcohol and antidepressants contributed to my falling deeper and

deeper into that black abyss of grief. I could not seem to find that place of acceptance

no matter how deep I dug. On the fourth day I had started my medicating at around

eight in the morning and was losing track of how much and how many times I was

taking medication. Each morning before Pete left for work he would allot my meds for

the day so that I would not forget to take them at the appropriate time. But this particular

day was different as it was a complete black out for me and I recalled nothing about that

day or evening. At about six thirty that evening Gabby and Pete were in the kitchen

when they heard a loud bang coming from up in our room upstairs. They both raced up

to our bedroom and found me face down on the bathroom floor completely passed

out. When Pete lifted me up off the floor they noted a gash on my cheek and blood

running down my face and neck. Pete and Gabby rushed me immediately to the

emergency room where we apparently waited for 5 hours. During that time that I do not

recall telling jokes and begging Pete to go down the street and buy me “just one beer”. I

was chatting to all of the people that were packed in the emergency ward and smiled

and posed as Pete took pictures of myself and Gabby. The doctor was not too happy

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with my outbursts but when Pete explained the situation he softened and suggested that

a hospital stay would be an option to consider. When the doctor asked me how much

alcohol I had consumed I told him two beer and he said he would be back with the lab

results. The look on his face when thirty minutes later was not happy as he returned

with blood alcohol results. He stated that I had a 3.5 reading and I was definitely to be

admitted the next day into the hospital. The next morning when Pete recanted the

previous day and evening I was shocked as I truly had no recollection of any of it.

Needless to say I was horrified when he showed me the pics he had taken where I was

looking so bright and cheery. Another illusion that I was portraying to the world with the

help of my beer. I thought about what I was doing to my family, how they found the

strength to watch me day after day deteriorate and fade away into that shell of a person

that they loved so dearly. When Pete pleaded with me to get help with the alcohol I

finally resigned myself to the fact that if I stayed on course I would surely destroy myself

and my family. So the next day Pete arranged for an appointment with my family doctor

and he fit me in immediately for a visit. My dad came out to accompany us to the

doctor’s office and I realized how fortunate I was to have such a family that loved me

and was so concerned about my wellbeing. During the half hour drive I looked out the

window and prayed with such an intensity that I began to cry. In my mind I begged my

children in heaven to help mummy regain strength and be whole once again. I felt that I

would never ever be completely whole again but I needed to stop hurting and try to

move forward for the sake of my other girls.

Chapter 44 My Life Commitment

Once in the doctor’s office I felt a sense of safety that he would give me what I needed

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to try and erase the pain. But he was insistent that I admit myself into the outDaveient of

the local hospital Psyche ward. Deep in my heart I knew that this was the only recourse

I had as it was either that or drink myself to death to cover the pain. When I agreed,

there was an evident sigh of relief from each person in the room. The doctor

recommended I was to go immediately from his office to the hospital and I knew this

tactic was well thought out to prevent me from going home and changing my mind. I

was instantly flooded with the excitement of getting better and the terror of the unknown

at the same time. I remember my eyes darting from the doctor to Pete in apprehension

but their gaze was steadfast and I knew that I had to go.

I arrived for an intake at the hospital just after noon. There was a flurry of activity at the

front desk as the nursing station was on shift change and information of each patient

was to be passed on to the next shift nurse. We were escorted into a small room with a

large window overlooking the living area. As I scanned the room I noticed several

people moving quickly to the lineup for the lunch kitchen. There was a variety of people

from older to younger all subdued looking, patienttly waiting in line for their turn to pick

out their lunch. Immediately I started to panic and interrupted the nurses’ account of

what my stay would look like. “I changed my mind!” I said in a voice louder than I

wanted. “I am ok I do not need to stay here”. Pete looked at me with compassion and

said in a soft voice “honey, it will be ok, you will be ok here” I felt his genuine warmth

and knew that he was right. As he stepped towards me and hugged me I knew that this

was something that I had to do, and I agreed. We were shown to my room just off the

main area. It was a small room, clean and simple. There was a small desk in the corner

and a neatly made bed up against the wall under the window. The walls appeared to be

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recently painted and the color of beige was warm and comfortable. I put my small

suitcase on the bed and walked out to the front entrance with Pete dad and the girls.

They hugged me and kissed me promising to see me the next day. I walked back into

the kitchen area and took place in line behind an older gentlemen with the others. He

glanced at me briefly with a small smile at the corner of his mouth and said a barely

audible “hi”. I nodded as I was in no mood to start a conversation then moved along to

get my lunch. There was about ten small tables set uniformly in the room and each table

held four people. Not all of the tables were full and I found one where I could sit alone.

As I ate my lunch slowly I looked around and systematically noted the overall

appearance of each person. They all possessed a quality of despondency and sadness

that I connected too immediately. As soon as I digested this connection I had a

profound moment where I knew that this would be another turning point in my life and I

relaxed little. I went straight to my room after lunch and started to put my clothes in the

drawers and personal belongings on the dresser to make the room a little cozy. As I

hung my jacket in the little upright closet I saw something on the floor at the back of the

closet catch my eye. I reached my hand onto the floor and was delighted to pick up a

shiny penny. I closed my eyes and made a tight fist squeezing the penny, and thanked

Sammy for letting me know she was with me. I was interrupted by a sharp knock on the

door. I turned to see a kind looking women with a name tag of “Sue” attached to her

uniform. She smiled a warm smile and asked me how I was doing. “I am ok “I said a

little uncertain of how I was supposed to respond. Was I to admit that I felt like a raving

lunatic and felt relieved I was in the Psyche ward? But she continued to be kind and

compassionate as she outlined which medication’s I would be on and how my days

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would look for the next week or so. She pulled some medication out of her pocket right

there and she pointed out that they were far stronger than the medication I had been on

at home. These were what the doctor had prescribed and I was quite relieved as my

anxiety level had risen considerably since I go there. After she left I finished putting

everything away and decided to take a walk around the ward. It was a very open

concept built in a circular way that utilized the outside of the area into rooms for the

patients and living area and nursing station for the middle. I walked the full circle of the

ward and was quite surprised at the number of rooms that held patients. There were

four large washrooms and an exercise room as well as a very large kitchen area that

was connected to an open sitting area with three couches and one TV. As I walked past

each room I noticed that many patients were either laying on their beds quietly, staring

into space or reading. Once I had covered the whole area and headed back to my room

I called Pete and the girls on my cell to say hi. I was missing them terribly and just

hearing their voices tell me they loved me gave me a huge sense of peace. My first

night there I was conked out as my medication completely knocked me out. I woke up

once in the middle of the night disoriented and frightened but quickly fell back to sleep.

It was 5:30 am and the nurses were making their rounds to check on everyone. I did

feel a lot of comfort knowing that someone was there if I needed them. A few hours later

I could smell food cooking and hear pots clanging as breakfast was being made. I

forced myself to get up even though I was not hungry and made my way sleepily to the

lineup where a few l people were standing, most of us were still in our pajamas. I

noticed a fellow in the line that was probably in his late sixties fidgeting and moving from

foot to foot as he waited. His eyes met mine and as he smiled I recognized from the day

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before. I noticed that he was quite thin, balding short cropped white hair and although

his stature was short he puffed out his chest in an effort to appear larger than he was.

The display of many tattoos’ from obvious years passing, blurred into his skin creating

faded pigments of colors. He wore tattered grey sweatpants, well-worn foam slippers

and a thin strapped white tee shirt that shadowed food stains from previous days. I

remember thinking in the coolness of the early morning that he had to have been a little

chilly, but apparently it was not an issue to him. After I had filled my breakfast tray I

made my way over again to a table that was empty and as I sat down I looked up to see

him standing in front of me. He smiled shyly and asked if he could sit with me. “Of

course” I said and gestured for him to sit across from me. I tried avoid small talk and

concentrated on eating. I was not in the mood to commence on a new friendship

although I did not want to be rude. He too sat there quietly and ate not saying a word.

As I got up to leave the table he smiled again and said “have a nice day” I smiled back

and left the room. I returned to my room and proceeded to strip my bed. I had no desire

to get out of my jammies and wanted to make the most of this unhurried time. I went out

into the hall and noticed two large carts in the corner up against the wall. I sorted

through and found all of the bedding that was needed and also enjoyed the fact that

there was an assortment of colors and sizes of hospital sleepwear. This was a highlight

of my stay as I had no qualms wearing jammies all day every day. It was crazy how

such a small thing as having unlimited clean jammies that I did not have to wash daily,

could be so delightful. I stocked up on a few pair and took them back to my room. I was

feeling detached and wanting to hibernate so the rest of my first day I stayed in my

room and read some books that I had brought along. One of them was the book on

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Buddhism that Niki and left with me on our last day together. As I read through the

pages, the memories of her and Sammy flooded through me and I was grateful being

alone as I sobbed for most of the afternoon.

After my supper that night Pete and the girls came by to see me. I was so happy and

grateful to see them I hugged them like it was the first time I had seen them in years.

Again I knew even though I had faced my previous challenges and traumas I was

extremely blessed to have a family that I meant so much to. I was well aware other

people did not have that luxury and I counted my blessings. After they left I grabbed

some towels and went to have a shower. I was to find that there was lineup and two

people ahead of me so I ventured into the TV area and sat down. As I looked around

the room I was drawn to the different types of people that were milling around. My

curiosity deepened as I wondered and speculated on what stories had brought these

people here. I noticed a young woman in her thirties that I had seen at breakfast. She

was quite attractive with a mop of curly red hair and startling green eyes. I was a little

surprised when she approached me and asked if she could sit down. “Of course” I

replied and smiled warmly at her. Instantly I noticed a bright purple mark on her chin

about two inches in diameter. I tried to avoid staring as she struck up a conversation

with me. She was really nice and her relaxed attitude helped me to not be so wary. It

was a given that we did not say to each other “so why are you here?” it was an

unspoken directive that just was. After about fifteen minutes I got up to take a shower

and told her I would see her tomorrow. I had no desire to come back out into the open

area once I was finished showering and was looking forward to hopping into bed. Sleep

came over me quickly that second night but a full bladder and expanding bowels woke

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me abruptly. I was totally disorientated and could not even remember where I was. I

jumped out of bed and ran out my room into the hallway. It must have been a

hallucination as I felt like I was running through a jungle of trees trying to find a toilet. I

kept going around and around in circles of the ward running into rooms and realizing

that was not where I needed to be. The sound of a nurse’s voice was drawing closer

and I was terrified she would see me although I don’t know why. By this time my bowels

had emptied all down my legs and covered my pajama bottoms. I was horrified,

embarrassed and terrified as I had no control and did not have a clue where I was. I

started to cry and prayed for god to direct me to a washroom. No sooner did I pray

when I ran into a door that was indeed the washroom. I hurriedly closed the door and

started grabbing paper towels, wetting it and cleaning myself up. I took off my bottoms

and wrapped them in paper towels and shoved them to the bottom of the trash and felt

so much shame and anger at myself. I used the whole dispenser of towels as I cleaned

the floor, the sink and wiped myself clean. I peeked out the door to make sure no one

was near as by then I had a clearer mind of where I was. I darted down the hallway to

my room surprised that even though it felt like I had been searching for hours to find the

bathroom it was only a few doors away from my room. When I awoke the next morning I

felt something was a little different about my being. The episode the night before was a

purging of toxins and poisons that had accumulated in my body and also my mind. I

knew again it was another start on my next journey of healing.

Gradually I spent more time in the common area getting to know the other patients. As I

grew stronger I shared with others my plight and they too shared theirs. The fellow that

first introduced himself to me was actually twenty years younger than I first thought. As

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it turned out he had been a Hells Angel for a good part of his life until dementia defeated

his mind. He had apparently been a two hundred and fifty pound robust man and was

transformed into this one hundred thirty pound man that I came to know. He was very

taken with me for some reason and whenever I walked into the room he would wave me

over and motion for me to sit with him. He was a man of few words but seemed to enjoy

the comfort of having someone sit with him each day. These times lasted perhaps an

hour a day and then he was nowhere to be seen. Soon after our initial meeting I noticed

he was the only person on the ward that would spend the majority of his time walking

around and around the circular ward with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. The

expression of contemplative reflections on his face hid the secret of a mind that was on

route to the despairing world of enhanced dementia. As much as I found the stimulation

of chatting to people around me enlightening I still felt more secure and content hidden

away in my room. My days were simple and my routine was comforting. This little room

became my safe haven and there were times that I never wanted to leave. I found

myself waking up every morning to the smell of breakfast wafting through the hallways

as an automatic alarm clock. I would get up change my bed, have a shower then

proceed out the entry doors and into the lobby of the hospital. The hospital was a

combination of Cancer Centre and Regional Hospital. It was a relatively new hospital

and the lobby was not too far off from resembling a mall. It was expansive with many

shops and to my delight a Starbucks. There I would stand day after day in my green

hospital garb with other patients and doctors eager to start our day with our caffeine fix.

The many faces that I saw come through that lobby were, I am certain, parents and

family of loved ones that were struggling daily to get well. I thought of all of the parents

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who had come to spend time with their children, fraught with disease and not knowing if

or when would be their last time together. To stand by helplessly as a parent and watch

your child suffer from Cancer or any life threatening disease is unthinkable and I gave

thanks to God each day as I knew my children were at peace and could not imagine the

horror of watching your child laying in pain slipping further and further away each day.

All of my children passed in their sleep and that gave me comfort knowing that I was

spared the horror to comfort them into their death but my heart broke for the immense

and merciless pain for those parents that were not permitted that grace. I learned that

the woman that had befriended me on that first day had tried to commit suicide and the

paramedics worked on her so feverishly that the oxygen mask had permeated a deep

mark on her chin. Probably two out of three people I met there had succumbed to

choosing suicide as a solution to their crises.

Others had surrendered to drug abuse to find their way out of pain. Regardless we were

all trying to make sense of a world that had consumed us with unrelenting pain. I felt a

soothing attachment of comradery with these broken souls knowing that we all fall down

but are sanctified with a common thread of humanity. My first week was coming to an

end and I started to panic. What if I could not find peace when I left? What if I was not

ready to leave? These thoughts kept pouring into my mind creating an agitation that

was starting to consume me. In all the years of my trials and tribulations not once did I

ever get really mad and act out, not once. But for some reason I had come to a final

straw that snapped deep within me and I broke down. Not only did I break down I tried

to break everything in my room. I was on the phone with Pete when a surge of panic

and anger so deep totally encompassed my being. I was being conquered by screams

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that tore out of my body from a place I do not know. I lost the complete ability to

maintain any kind of composure as I started screaming at the top of my lungs and

slamming my fists on the desk all the while twisting in a pain that was both physical and

emotional. I launched on an emotional tirade that came from the bowels of my soul and

no matter how hard I tried I could not stop it. Years and years of pent up frustration and

pain oozed violently out of my body as I pounded my fists on everything in my room. I

was scaring myself but had no off switch that existed in those moments. Again another

feeling of being outside myself and watching my body dispense an all-consuming pain.

This war on myself lasted about five minutes then as quickly as it came on, it stopped.

In the first moments it started I had thrown the phone on the floor and disconnected my

call with Pete. When this storm passed I calmly got up and walked out of my room and

into a class that had been scheduled for a half hour session of meditation. As I lay there

trying digest what had just happened I noticed my cell continually buzzing as it was Pete

frantically calling to make sure I was alright. When I called him back he yelled” what is

going on?! Are you ok?” I answered calmly that I was and apologized for the outburst. It

was as if nothing had happened. My body had taken on a life of its own and I

surrendered to that feeling.

Later that day when I was out in the common area I had asked a couple of people if

they had heard anything earlier from my room. They looked cautiously at me and

nodded. When I asked if any of the staff had heard the agreed that they did, but carried

on as if nothing was happening. I laughed at this response and told them “they were not

shocked, after all I am in the looney bin and that was to be expected”. I felt a deep

sense of relief after this episode and seemed to gain more strength emotionally. I made

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the choice to stay one more week and that proved to be immensely important to my

mending. Daily meetings with the staff Doctor were mandatory for all of us. Each

morning we would line up in the hallway to see our specific doctor before our day

began. My strength and clarity were returning slowly and I was feeling very much in

control of myself. As I grew closer to my fellow patients I found they would open up to

me more and more and my perspective on people in general, how pain on all levels

affected each person differently, humbled me and gave me peace in knowing that I was

not alone.

After my two week stay I went home with a renewed sense of moving forward. I no

longer used antidepressants or alcohol to diminish my anxiety and my outlook on life

has evolved once again. I have gained much peace from learning about medication and

how important it is to focus on my breathing during moments of anxiety. As well, I

believe my sense of peace has allowed my mind to welcome visits from my Niki and my

Sammy regularly in dreams at night. They appear together and sometimes with

Matthew and I draw strength on their visits.

Life started once again to become enjoyable and clarity has edged gradually into my

senses. My strength has its moments yet I concede to move forward with each passing

day. I spend less time in my bedroom affixed to my bed where I can shut off the world

and retreat into my bubble. The weekends are spent enjoying family outings such as

movies and walks throughout the neighbourhood and I can see the relief in Pete’s eyes

that I am on my way to becoming my old self. I am delighted to see Dominic twice a

week as I pick him up from daycare and spend five to six hours with him until Daniel

gets home from work. To have a piece Sammy with us is heartwarming to say the least.

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Dominic has that fair skin and red hair that Sammy had as a child, as well as that

infectious smile that captivates everyone he meets, just like his mummy. I feel Sammy

surrounding us on most days but without a doubt her spirit is alive with love whenever

Dominic is with us. I am blessed to have a strong connection with Dominic as he must

always have his “Nana” by his side when visiting with us. When I pick him up from

daycare each time his little face lights up as he shouts my name and runs into my arms.

Then he proudly holds my hand and informs the teachers that “this is My Nana!” There

is no better feeling in the world than that. I do not take for granted that Dominic is in my

life as sadly I have heard stories where families are torn apart from such a loss as we

endured. Daniel is an amazing dad that has made Dominic the centre of his world with

so much love and devotion and I can feel Sammy is smiling down with pride.

My next task would be to support Gabby as she was facing challenges of her own since

we had moved back to BC. During the five years in Alberta she established friends at

that critical time from ages ten to fifteen. Now she was in a new home and a new school

where she knew no one. Her grieving was taking its toll on her and when she started to

become bullied at her new school and I watched her fall deeper into depression. It took

much coaxing to have her agree to report this to the school office as she was afraid the

girls doing the bullying would find out and hurt her. I finally went with Gabby to the

school and met with the counsellor to inform her of the group of girls that were

threatening and intimidating Gabby. I was shocked as the woman not only made

excuses for the girls but pointed out that they came from dysfunctional families and

were just venting. I was having flashbacks to when I was in high school and the

counsellor too defended the students for their transgressions. I saw there was to be no

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solution on behalf of the school in helping Gabby so we pulled her out of school and

enrolled her in a self-pace setting. The change in her disposition was startling and she

thrived. Her grades were A’s and B’s and she also made new friends. It warmed me to

see her smile again as it had been a long time. Within eighteen months she graduated

and is attending a local University studying for her Bachelor’s in Social Work.

But life never stops teaching us lessons and when Pete was suddenly let go from the

company he had committed to for thirty years due to downsizing, we once again

struggled with loss. Although it was a different loss it was loss none the less. For a year

Pete struggled with many emotions and questioned himself on how he could have done

things differently even though he sacrificed and committed above and beyond. Daily I

encouraged him as he had done for me and reassured him it was out of his control. As I

learned from my loss’ you do the best you can with what you have and the rest is up to

God or the universe as we must continue to follow our hearts and be true to ourselves.

The waves of depression that become us during loss, affect all that are close and

teaches us patience and appreciation of what we do have, not what we don’t have. I felt

grateful that now I could step up and provide support, love and patience as I greeted

grief from another angle. No matter what form a loss occurs in, be it loss of a loved

one, confidence, a divorce or loss of a job we all go through the process of mourning

and that can be a few steps or many, there is no set measure. Ultimately we do get

through the set- back and emerge on the other side with a different perspective.

Hopefully a positive one as that is crucial to change.

We are moving forward as a family and our uncertainty is slowly fading each day.

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I am now working from home in my office and a call came in a while ago that was very

surprising and unexpected. When I answered the phone I heard “mommy am I still your

daughter?” I was caught off guard for a moment as I did not recognize the voice. To my

surprise I realized it was Brigette’s voice and I did not hesitate in answering “of course

you are my daughter honey”. She started to cry and explained that she was in jail and

asked if she could be dropped off at my house. I felt panic well up in my throat. “Why

are you in jail? Are you ok?” I asked. “She told me she would explain when she got to

my house and as I hung up I realized how much I missed her. I paced the floor and

twenty minutes later she arrived sheepishly at my door. When we came face to face she

fell into my arms and wept. Slowly the invisible bandages of pain and despondency

unravelled and I held her tightly as I had when she was a little girl and slowly rocked

back and forth whispering “it’s going to be ok honey”.

Brigette shared that the night before, her partner demanded that she give him her

phone. When she refused he grabbed it out of her hand and walked away with it. When

Brigette attempted to take it back from him he put her in a head lock and body slammed

her up against the wall. Considering he quite a bit larger than her it happened very

quickly. While she was struggling to break free she grabbed whatever she could off the

floor near her face and brought her arm up hitting him so his arms would release her. As

it turned out she had grabbed an aerosol can and when she hit him the can landed on

his forehead causing a gash. He immediately called the police and charged her with

“assault with a deadly weapon. When the police arrived they arrested her even though

she was trying to explain the situation. But they refused to listen to her as they obviously

thought she was the attacker. I was shocked to see the amount of bruises on her body

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and I immediately took pictures of them. The next morning I took Brigette to the doctor

and he documented the welts and marks. As well she was having much pain in her neck

so we went to the hospital where they took x-rays revealing soft tissue damage that also

was a result of the assault.

Brigette’s journey has not gone unscathed as she had embraced a troubled and harried

thirteen year relationship. Her final destination in that relationship saw her unjustly

accused of assault when she had been the victim of an assault. I helped her to find

counselling and supported a new part of her journey in becoming healthy. She moved in

with us and I am so grateful to have the last and only three of my babies under one roof.

Gabby and Bella formed a new bond with their sister that had not been present for

many years and I am grateful for the opportunity of having her back in my life. As the

days moved forward and Brigette struggles to learn how to undo her codependent

beliefs the court had moved forward in their charges against her from the assault. We

were informed that she was going to do jail time as a result of the charges Nigel alleged.

I was devastated and could only imagine how she was feeling. I was angry at the

unfairness of how an abuser once more, is removed from a situation that clearly was

responsible for instigating. It was a Monday morning and we got up early to be at court

for Brigette to turn herself in by 9:00am. As I walked into the kitchen to make coffee

Brigette was already sitting at the table crying quietly. As I put my arms around her and

held her tightly my cell phone rang. When I picked up the name display showed her

lawyer’s name. “Hello Leanne? This is Georgia calling. I wanted to catch you and

Brigette before you left for the Court house. I just received word from the Crown

Prosecutor that all charges against Brigette have been dropped so there is no need to

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go there to turn herself in.” I was sure that I misunderstood what she was saying so I put

her on speaker phone and asked her to repeat what she had just said. Brigette’s eyes

widened and she locked eye contact with me as we both let out a sigh of unbelieving

relief. My hand shook as I asked her if she was sure. She assured me she was and as I

thanked her and hung the phone Brigette jumped off the chair and bear hugged me. We

were both so thrilled and astounded as we realized that a miracle just happened. Today

Brigette is slowly uncovering and healing her scars through counselling and our family

support. I have travelled many parts of her journey and am fortunate to share my insight

and encouragement as she moves into the next chapter of her life. From my first trauma

when I was fourteen years old to present day I have come to appreciate that we all

suffer, each and every one of us but accepting change is the key. Life for each of us

presents uncertainties, pain and heartbreak of varying degrees and every choice we

make directly, or indirectly, cultivates the essence of our passage. My passage wrought

adversity of my will that taught me to surrender to time, the almighty healer, and take

time to surrender. I know each one of us experiences pain and heartbreak but when we

permit acceptance in ourselves as well as our circumstances, inevitably we will move

forward.

Many years after the assault I was contacted by one of the boys that was involved in the

assault when I was fourteen years old in high school. He was very emotional in

conveying his sincere apologies and remorse for his participation in the attack. As it

turned out on his nineteenth birthday while with a bunch of friends after a night filled

with drinking, he made the grave decision to attempt to hand glide behind a car. His

consequence for that choice would alter his life permanently. He became a quadriplegic.

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I remember feeling a rush of sadness and forgiveness and expressed my sincere

thanks for taking the time to call me. I wished him well and never heard or spoke with

him again.

I truly believe we are only given what we can handle and if we accept and surrender to

our tribulations, time will heal the burden of despair that is inevitable. I believe

forgiveness and acceptance are the mainstays of our lives and once we consent to and

embrace these we will continue to be whole and at peace, no matter what life throws

our way. It is not easy to do but it can be done.

Today I began my usual weekday morning making my coffee and feeding the dogs and

Moo our cat. I prepared lunches for Pete and the girls then headed upstairs to throw in a

load of laundry. I pulled the clothes from the washer throwing them into the dryer and as

the last piece of clothing came out I heard a “plink” on the inside of the machine. I

looked in and found a penny laying in the middle of the washer. I looked closely at the

date it was “1988”, the year my Sammy was born. I smiled and knew that my angels

would always be close no matter what life threw at me.

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