Kyleigh loving her berries!!!!!!

52 Pieces of Me Part 4

January 15, 1976 is a day that I will always remember. It was my Birthday as a Born Again Christian. Sure I had gone to church all my life – even joined the church, made a profession of faith and been baptized when I was 12 – but it was never anything more than just words to me.

Back in 1975 I was working for a CPA firm and one of my co-workers, Gary kept telling me about Jesus. I politely listened and even thought at one point – what are you talking about – I was born a Christian. Yeah right. Let me back up a bit farther to the how and why I was working at this CPA firm. I can even see God’s hand in getting me into that job. I was just finishing up my degree in Accounting and had applied to take the CPA exam in November. But I was a DAY late turning in my application and was turned down for the November exam. I did everything I could to get them to accept me but the final answer was NO. My day told me that every cloud had a silver lining but I sure couldn’t see it at the time. I knew I needed to do something to fill the time until the next exam in May. The next day I was up at the local convenience store crying about my situation and the store keeper told me he had heard that the company that did his bookkeeping was looking for another accountant. He referred me to them and I had a job the next week. This was where I meet Gary, who eventually led me to Christ.

Back to January 1976 - I had always “tried” to live a good life but I had slipped quite a bit around that time. I was drinking a lot and my life was a bit out of control. Jeff, my oldest, was in grade school at that time and one day he and another boy collided on the playground and Jeff bounced his head pretty hard on the cement. The Dr told me to watch him all night, wake him up often, check his eyes, etc. Needless to say it made for a long night. But around midnight or 1am, I got bored and ended up picking up my Bible and the Bridge illustration that Gary had written down for me over lunch one day. I got to thinking about my life and all that Gary had been saying. It finally made sense to me. I WAS a sinner and only Jesus could do anything about it. (6 months before I was still “trying” to live the good life. So I can definitely see God’s timing.) At this point I knew what sin was. I could totally identify. So sometime in the early morning of January 15, 1976, I prayed the prayer of salvation and asked Jesus to come into my life and heart. THAT was the turning point in my life. From then on I have never been alone. I have always had Jesus with me. Heck, even the Bible finally made sense. Thank you Gary for sharing Jesus with me. I will be forever grateful!!!!!!!!!!!

Slaying the Dragon of Distrust

SA, 16, has been home almost 3 weeks now. He just got home from spending 9 months in a residential treatment center. It was his 3rd time gone in the last 26 months. He was only home about 3 months each time between stays. SA isn’t a bad kid, just one with lots and lots of issues from his prior life.

SA has lots of initials after his name: RAD, ODD, PTSD, ADHD, etc. He wants me to trust him. It seems to come up daily, sometimes more often. “When are you going to trust me?” When can I do this or that? He always says “that was in the past!” Meaning his stealing, lying, threatening, etc. Yesterday would even be considered past to him.

How do you trust someone who has burned you so badly in the past? How can I even think about not locking the bedroom doors after having so much stolen? How can I not walk around with pepper spray in my pocket after him trying to attack me plus all the threats to kill me? Plus all the breaking and entering and stolen stuff I have found in his room over the years? How does a person learn to trust someone again after being so violated over and over? I know it will take good, acceptable behavior over time. I, also, know I may never trust him again. It is so hard because my “mommy” heart wants to trust but my logical mind says “no way”. So, we continue on the journey of growing SA up.

52 Pieces of Me Part 3

I am adopted. I was born in San Diego on June 19, 1949 at the Door of Hope. My birth name was Patricia Ann Williams. Seems odd doesn’t it. Now I am totally someone different. Anyways, I was adopted at the age of 6 weeks to a wonderful couple, Joe and Fern Hann. I found my birth mom in the mid ‘90s and the ironic thing is that the sister she was staying with right before she went to the Door of Hope was named Cheryl. Also, I have a brother – Gary in my adopted family and a brother Gary in my birth family. 2 brothers named Gary, go figure. Heck the reason my mom named me Charyl with an “a” is so that both Gary and I would have “ary” in our names.

We had an 8 year old neighbor boy who announced my arrival in style. Albert went door to door all over the neighborhood telling everyone that the Hann’s have a new baby.

My birth mom said she had a hard time turning in the relinquishment papers and held on to them for about 6 weeks. She had been assured I would be adopted quickly. Guess that they were right since I was placed that same week.

Being adopted has never been an issue for me. I have always known and accepted it. My parents read me a book when I was little called the Chosen Baby. I grew up thinking my parents had gone to the baby store and walked up and down the aisles checking out all the babies and picked me because they thought I was the best one. How is that for a self esteem boast.

Angel Sleeping

I saw this graphic the other day and thought about something my oldest daughter HJ told me about my little 22 month old granddaughter, Kyleigh. HJ told Kyleigh it was time to go to bed the other night. Kyleigh was just fresh from her bath. She ran into the bedroom, laid down on her changing pad, butt up in the air and started pretending to snore. So, when does a 22 month old learn to pretend to snore? I just don’t get it but I sure did laugh.

52 Pieces of Me Part 2

I love photography. I love to take pictures. I always have and always will. I remember back when I was a teenager I always had my camera with me. I was historian in school and various social clubs. Always took my camera on dates, ok, when the date was a picnic, the beach or up to the mountains to play in the snow.

I had “take a photography class” on my to-do list since I was about 20. Finally took that class last year. Only 39 years late. I plan to take the next class at the Tech school as soon as I can fit it in. I am trying to teach myself Photoshop but it is slow going. I will learn and conquer.

I have to laugh at my newer daughter/son in laws when they join the family. They basically tell the other to get used to getting their picture taken ‘cuz she (me) is never going to change. J They adjust and on a good day even smile when I aim the camera at them. My kids and grandkids, well, they just take the camera for granted. Mom/Grandma takes pictures. What else is new?