I Thought He Walked on Water

Dear Little Crystal,
I have been avoiding you. Writing to you hurts so much sometimes. But, I started this blog as a way of going back in time and loving and protecting you the way you should have always been loved.
Lately my world feels confusing. When the world is confusing to you, you calm yourself by sucking your thumb and playing with your ear. I am proud to say, I do not suck my thumb any more. I do however still play with my ear. That habit has caused me to have a cauliflower ear and I don't even box! You also sing, dance & act. No one is there to applaud. But, all alone you put on quite a show.
Often when children are adopted and are old enough to remember their parents, they will fantasize & dream of the day that their parents will get their lives in order, get back together and then whisk the child away with them to that place in fairy tales called Happily Ever After.
You are not like most kids. Your mind doesn't work the same. You live somewhere on the mezzanine of fantasy and reality. Even at 3 you understand that mom and dad are not coming back. They are not getting back together. But you don't miss them anyway. I am not saying that to be mean or snippy. It's just the truth. There is someone you actually rely on more. There is someone you miss more.
Your oldest brother and oldest sibling Doug is who you really miss. He is Superman to you. When you are alone singing and playing and sucking your thumb. you know in your heart that Doug will one day come and sweep you up in his arms and take you to a house with a white picket fence where all your brothers and sisters live and are waiting for you.
Doug is your hero. You have a bond with him that is phenomenal. When you were born Doug picked out your name, Crystal Joy. When you were born, Doug worked to help pay the family bills. Doug changed your diapers and fed you bottles. In nearly every picture from those days you are in his arms.


At your new home, you can't remember all your siblings. When Linda first arrived, you knew she was your sister, but you did not remember her. You had to be told by Alan who she was. Yet there is nothing that can erase Doug from your memory. You write him letters, draw him pictures and dream of the days he will hold you again.


My dear sweet angel, life rarely goes as we plan. I can go on and on about all the things that played a part in the estrangement between you and Doug, but today I just want to close my eyes and go back to his arms. I was so happy there. Doug died this week. And the mixture of sadness, guilt and utter loneliness I feel over this loss is overwhelming.
Douglas Ray Williams I love and miss you and I'm sorry if you died not knowing that.
As for you my sweet little Crystal. I will write to you soon when I have more strength.
As always little princess,
I Love You.

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The Pearl

Dear Little Crystal,
I really had no idea when I was going to be able to publicly talk about this, but today just seems like the day.
You have these memories, flashbacks, thoughts. Since you are so little, you don't know what they mean. They are weird. They make you feel funny. You aren't really sure if you have made them up or if they are real.
The first is the memory in the bathroom.
As a child that memory is weird to you. It takes age and maturity for you to even begin to understand what happened. You will be a grown woman before you will be able to talk openly about this event.
The second memory at your age is even more confusing. I will tell you as you see it and then, I will explain it.
You are in your mom and dad's bed. You are 2 or younger. Your father and mother are laying on each side of you. They seem wobbly. Your dad does something to your mom. He shows some sign of affection. Your mom does not like it. She pushes him away or he pushes her. That part is fuzzy. She falls off the bed. Your dad then turns his attention to you. He touches you in your diaper area. Outside or inside the diaper is not clear, but mom gets up. She does not like it. She picks you up and places you in your crib in their room.
You're a baby. I am a grown woman. Those 2 small memories will play over in your mind so many times for the rest of your life that it permanently mars you. You don't understand them because you are a child with no knowledge of sex or sexual boundaries. That is why you always wonder what these thoughts really are.
One day you will grow up. You will be a teenager and you will travel back east for a family wedding. Everyone gets drunk and you have an opportunity to ask an aunt and a sister about your memory.
The wine and booze loosens their lips. "Wow! You remember that?" one says. "Yeah, it is exactly what you think. Your crib was in their room. I can't believe you remember that. Your father was sick. He was eventually arrested for molesting one of your sisters." More stories are told and life is never the same after that night. The pain in your gut is like a knife. You hide in the dark and cry in a corner.
You start to understand. At this age, while at the wedding, you are already aware that your parents were alcoholics. Now you know that on that night as a baby, you were on the bed. They were drunk. Your father made a pass at your mom. In her drunken state she fell off the bed. He then went to fondle you. Mom put you in your crib.
It wasn't a thought, or a figment of your imagination. Your father fondled you. Isn't it weird that you remember that your crib was in their room even though you were just a baby? Not really. The fact is we remember traumatic experiences even when we are infantile.
As you grow up you will continue to learn more and more disturbing facts about your father. But that night with your drunken family serves only to solidify your worst nightmares. I am so sorry. It should not have happened to you. I am also sorry because that is not how you should have been told.
Today I watched an author tell the world that pedophiliac acts aren't all bad and can actually be good for a child. He thinks we look at it all wrong.
Let me assure you that what happens to you as a BABY, is NOT good and affects you in ways people can never imagine.
Life goes on. You grow up and have your own children. You begin to wonder if there is some horrible, evil, monster gene that makes people molesters. Can you inherit the gene? Did you inherit the gene? Could you one day wake up and hurt a child? At about the time you start to ponder these absurd questions, you begin to read the book Making Love Last Forever. In the book the author says you must take every negative thing in your life and find the pearl, the positive that cane from the negative. He says that an oyster makes a pearl by getting a tiny grain of sand stuck inside it's shell. It's painful and takes a long time of hard labor but eventually that grain of sand becomes a pearl. This just makes you so mad! What is Smalley thinking? Not every bad thing becomes good! Is he naive? You yell out to God, "How can I find a pearl in this? Really? What good comes from a man molesting his own children? He was my father. He was supposed to protect me from the monsters not be the monster!"
That night you cry yourself to sleep. But then, suddenly you are awaken! "Your love for your children!" a voice says loud and clear. You know the voice. God has answered you. If you actually had a perfect childhood, you would love your children but not the way you do right now. You see, it is because this horrible earthly father did this, that you love, protect, educate, and care for your children with such an unwavering passion. That is your pearl.
I am sorry that your parents didn't do the same for you. Every child should have a protector. I want to be there for children who have no voice. I wish I could go back and be there for you. I am here for you now.
Why does pain caused by someone else make the victim feel such shame? I don't know but it does.?
I love you princess!
Love, Crystal


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Rejection & Neglect

Dear Little Crystal,
I am trying to write to you more often. I want to share the beauty of you with others. I feel like I neglect this part of my life. It's easy for me to reject myself as I have learned to be comfortable with rejection. Or at least that is what I tell myself.
I never realized how much you faced rejection at such an early age. "Rejecting", is something some people have made into an art form. In the dictionary it says that one definition is to refuse as lover or spouse. It doesn't talk about refusing a child. However in this country, it is an epidemic.
But the first time you face rejection isn't the day your mommy leaves. I realized recently that neglect is a form of rejection.
I don't know what time of year it is. I scarcely remember anything about the day. I know you are little, very little. You are under 3 years old. You have 2 dolls that you love so much. You have named them Jack and Jill. It will be many years later before I will learn that those dolls are called Kewpie dolls.
I think you are sitting outside playing with them. This may not seem so bad to others that read this story. However, the truth is, you live on skid row in Detroit Michigan. You live in a dangerous part of town. You live in a black ghetto but you are not black. Your sister Linda will one day write about how she would run home from school but often get caught before she could make it all the way home. Those hunting her were people who hated her because she was white. They would grab her and beat her in the alley. That is where you live.
On this day, as you play, you see 2 of your sisters going for a walk down the street. I can't see who they are. I've talked to my siblings and most agree that it is either Tammy and Linda or Cheryl and Linda. Where are they going? It must be fun! They are so much fun! You want to go to. So, as toddlers do, you toddle off to follow them. Sadly, they don't want you to come and as siblings do, they run away from you. On the streets of Detroit, you have been neglected by your parents and rejected by your siblings. I don't see you crying. I don't see how far you get. I don't see anything else until you are sitting on a counter in the police station. You are having a blast. Policemen are heroes. They are handsome and they give you ice cream. There is another little boy there. He is eating ice cream too.
I don't remember your mom coming to get you but, she does. When you get older you tell your family this memory and they are astounded that you can remember so much. Of course you remember. As you get older YOU ARE ASTOUNDED that anyone would lose a child in Detroit Michigan. Who does that? Worst of all, on that very day, you lost your Kewpie dolls and no one seemed to care. Maybe you dropped them on your walk. Maybe someone took them from your front yard. Perhaps you left them in the police car or station. You never find out, but you always miss them.
As you share this story you find out that the 2 sisters were going to the store and that they intentionally ditch you. They were kids. They thought you would go back home.
Rejection never gets easier. You lie to yourself and say that it is easier but the truth of the matter is that it is only easier to hide the pain, to build the walls, to wear the mask. You face rejection in love, friendship, in approval and in your career.
Tomorrow I have an interview. Times are tough right now and I have been looking for a job for 4 months. When you get your 1st job at 13 cleaning a beauty salon, you feel great. You feel accepted. From that point on there is never a job you apply to that you are not given. That is until now.
I have filled out hundreds of applications. I have been to dozens of interviews. I have had many companies tell me to keep applying because they think I am great. Yet, I can't see to close the deal. I want to walk in there and tell the hiring manager to not waste my time and I won't waste their time. I am the best candidate if they want to improve sales. If they don't hire me, the will regret it but they won't know they regret it because they will have no comparison. But whoever does hire me will be their competitor and I can assure them that the competitor will be taking business away from them. When they ask "why do you want to work for our company?" I want to look them straight in the eye and say "because I need a job and you're hiring!"
I won't do any of those things. However, I will bring you with me. When I get done, you and I can look for a policeman, tell him we are lost and then go get an ice cream. We will come home and then I will help you find your Kewpie dolls. I am sure I can find them on Ebay.
I am sorry you were neglected and rejected, but I want you to know that God not only accepts you the way you are, he designed you the way you are.
When others have allowed you to roam the streets of Detroit while still in diapers, God has you in his hands. He doesn't just hold you in his hands. He says he has engraved you in his hands. That's pretty amazing really. Nowadays, a tattoo can be removed for the most part with laser treatment. But, scars are nearly impossible to remove. If God carved us into His skin, we would be a permanent part of Him. He couldn't neglect or reject us if He tried.
I love you and I am working hard on not neglecting or rejecting you either.
Wish me luck on my interview!
Love, Crystal

What is in a name, or a title for that matter?

Dear Little Crystal,

It's the weekend. Here at my house, weekends are for rest, spending time together, shopping, fellowship and preparing for the week ahead.
For you, things are a little different.
At a very young age (while in elementary school) you start working for your Uncle Jim. Your Uncle Jim had been really affected by the great depression. Because of this He works hard so his family will never struggle like he did. He was an incredibly hard worker. He was also a great inventor. He invented the The Tight Squeeze Wrench. He and his friends went into business together. They open up a plant and begin production on the wrench. That's where you come in.
Nearly every evening, and every Saturday you and your siblings work at the plant. You get .50 cents an hour and the others get $1. Your tasks are small at first. You glue instructions into the box which can be tedious. Often you take the brush and paint a picture with the glue to stave off boredom. Eventually you will work on a tool press machine that men much older than you cannot work with the speed that you produce.
You have many good times at the plant. Sometimes at lunch you get to eat with Uncle Jim and his partners. As you eat, you always address your new daddy as "Uncle Jim". So does your sister Linda.
At one particular lunch, the wife of one of the partners decides it's her job to be our family counselor.
"When are you going to start calling him dad, honey?" You are speechless. This is never talked about. You were promised that you could call them whatever you want. You were told you never had to call them mom and dad. Why are they asking you? You are not the one who should decide. Where is Linda when you need her?
The lunch continues with you and 3 adults all telling you that Nancy and Jim are your mom and dad now. They love you and you should call them mom and dad. You want to run and hide. Maybe slide under the booth at the coffee shop you are at. You want to cry. I wish I could be there and tell them to stop.
As a child you are often adaptable to the changes that occur in your life. The pain of loss and rejection comes over time. As you grow, you become more aware of what you have lost thus making the emotional injuries much more serious.
Also as you grow, you become more aware of the boundaries people cross that should be taboo. This conversation about what to call your new parents is a boundary that your patriarch should not have let acquaintances cross. But they did, and he did.
It isn't that you don't love your new mommy and daddy. The problem is like many problems in your life, it is deeper. I don't know if it's because I live in a different time, or if it's because my generation is obsessed with self-help. But, it just seems so obvious to me that a child whose parents are still alive and that was taken in by relatives would naturally be confused.
You think in your little heart and mind that if you call these people mommy and daddy Linda will be mad at you. If you call them mommy and daddy, your mommy and daddy might disappear forever. If you call them mommy and daddy, they might leave you too.
Even though they bombard you with opinions, accusations and speculation, it would be a very long time before you would call them mom and dad. Maybe it is your stubborn nature or maybe it is just how God intended it, but you have boundaries yourself and you hold to them.
In my life people will call me many things (some not so nice). As a parent, this incident helped me realize that I needed to be sensitive to my children's desires and needs when they address people in their lives. It also had taught me not to get hung up on titles because the truth is, it is more important where I stand in someone's heart.
Mario is 2 when Doug comes into our lives. As he grows and it becomes more evident that Doug and I will marry and have a family, the mom you have become knows that it's time to talk to Mario about what to call Doug and what to call his dad's future wife. You tell Mario that he can call Doug and Darla whatever he wants (with respect). If they feel like a mom or dad and he feels they deserve it, he can call them mom and/or dad. That doing so is not a question of loyalty to his real mom and dad. You, as a mother, know in your heart that when Mario wants his mom, it is you he wants. You are secure in that thought and do not need sole ownership to a title to know you are his mom.
Mario grows up in our house and to be fair, he actually met Doug before Darla. He decides to call Doug dad, but Darla remains Darla. It's hard on his real dad sometimes, but it is for Mario to decide, not us.
As time goes by there are days you are called Mrs. Maldonado because people know you as Mario's mom. You never correct them. To do so would be to tell Mario that your title is more important than his feelings. When people call you Mrs. Maldonado they are connecting you to Mario and you don't want to ever cause disconnection. But, then one day it happens. Something that will test the true father and son bond between Mario and Doug. One of Mario's friends calls Doug "Mr. Maldonado". Without a look, sigh or any sign of confusion, Doug answered to Mr. Maldonado (and he would many times). He later would say that it was because he knew people called Mario by the last name Yaeger and he liked that Mario never corrected them. He felt that they were family no matter what they were called and he wanted Mario to know that.
On one sunny day little girl, you will walk into the kitchen and hear Linda call Aunt Nancy, Ma. It will be the first motherly title you will give her. It is the sign you have needed to tell you that it's okay, she won't leave you.
I am a daughter, sister, niece, cousin, aunt, mom, wife, sister-in-law, friend, and I have held many other titles. But none of them matter if not said with love. I loved Ma.
I love you and will write soon,
Crystal


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In Memoriam

Dear Little Crystal,
Last night I watched The Emmy Awards. At the end they did a segment dedicated to all the TV stars who had died throughout the year. For being so little you have lost a lot of loved ones in your life.
I see you grieving. It is the first time you face death. Aunt Nancy is sitting at a piano, she is crying after a phone call. You all try to console her when she says that Bud has died. Bud was her best friend. He was as close to a brother as she ever could have had. You've never met Bud, but you have seen pictures and heard stories about Aunt Nancy and Bud.
You are just a little girl maybe 5 or 6. Suddenly, the horrible truth sinks inside your body. It's alarming how death is palpable. You realize that you will never meet Bud! Dead means forever! That is a huge realization for a child. It's true, no one can save him. This realization overwhelms you and you begin to cry.
Your siblings mock you. "What are you crying for? You baby! You didn't even know him!"
But you didn't need to know him, you are grieving something far more deep, more pure, and more Godly. You are grieving the loss of life in and of itself. Somewhere along the way man has lost the true value of human life. But, it has not been lost on you. Death should be mourned and so you cry.
After that, death became more intimate, more personal.
The awards show made me think of our loved ones who have passed. Their loss of life has not made death any easier. On the contrary, death in general has become harder for me to face.
There are people who died who you were not that close to such as cousins, aunts etc. But the following are those you lost that took a piece of your heart. It is important to remember them.

Doris Anderson - Aunt Nancy's mom. She was grandma to you. She became sick while visiting you and later died.
Linda Williams - Your older sister. You shared a room. She was all you had left of your original family. She was hit by a drunk driver. Her friend was also killed who you knew at the time, but his name escapes me now.
Alan King - he was at Linda's funeral and attended church with us. You loved him like a brother. A few short weeks after Linda died, Alan's car went off the rode when his friend fell asleep at the wheel.
Don Anderson - Aunt Nancy's father and your grandpa. He loved you so much! He never treated you different. After grandma died, he is diagnosed with emphysema. He comes to live with you. You bring him his meals on trays to his room everyday. Whenever you go to pick up the tray when his meal is done, there is always some money on the tray for you to keep.
One morning you wake up extra early. Something is wrong. You go to his room and there you see his stiff corpse. He has died in his sleep. This will haunt you for years.
Brett Hamlin - He was your first husband. Well, not legally but when you were about 4 years old, you and he dressed up and marched down the hallway as man and wife. He was one of your best friends. He had a twin brother Bart that was also your friend. On your 19th birthday, your father will call to tell you he has died. His car crashed into a wall. I still do not know all the details. He is buried in Cypress near Linda.
Dan Caraway - Dan was your youth group leader. You met him at ashram (a Christian camp) in the summer. He would be in a motorcycle accident on that same Christmas Eve. On New Year's Eve he passes away. The grief of this loss is overwhelming and you begin to change. (You will find your way back but it takes awhile).
Glenn Williams - This is your real father. The loss here was more of what could've been than what was. He was never your Dad. Jim played that roll. But that is what made this so sad. He died of cirrhosis of the liver from his years of alcoholism.
Gordon Yaeger - Your Father-in-Law. He is a good man who becomes very close to Mario. One day he is fine, the next day he dies of lung cancer. Yes, he was a smoker.
Jim Williams - Uncle Jim and the man you know and love as daddy. He lives a long life and dies in your sister's arms.
Jorge Monjares - You date him for a little while but eventually just become friends. At 56 he dies of a sudden unexpected heart attack. Kara calls you to tell you.
Cousin Lucille - She is Aunt Nancy's cousin but she is a hero to you. She dies alone. No funeral. You hold a service in your home all by yourself to honor her.
Nancy Williams - Aunt Nancy and the only mom you ever really know and love. You, she and your family plan a trip to Jamaica. However, during a check-up they find brain cancer. Instead of Jamaica, you fly to California to bury your mother.
April Stiles - You don't know when or how she dies but you find out via the the Internet. She was a childhood friend and fellow softball player.
William Hogg - Uncle Bill. He is the man who takes you out of the orphanage until Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jim decide that you should live with them. He just died last week.

There are more but these stand out. Thank you God for allowing me to know each of these people even for a moment.
My dear little Crystal, life is short! Be kind, keep your heart open and cherish every second with those you love.
With love as always!



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Derby Dr,Murrieta,United States

Back Home

Dear Little Crystal,
I'm home!
I really can't believe I am here. It seems like a lifetime has passed. As I drove from my rental house in Riverside County down through Orange County and into Hollywood the other day, a flood of emotions washed over me.
I missed every street, every sidewalk, every traffic-ridden freeway! I love California. This is were we belong.
You were born in Detroit Michigan but from your bleach-blond hair to your sparkling blue eyes, you have always been a California girl!
In the morning when you wake up, you know what the weather will be. When you set off for school down Pauline, to Rosemary, and then down the small alley (that you pretend is an alley in New York), across Holder to your elementary school of the same name, you will need a
hoodie from the cool morning air.





But, by lunchtime, when you set out on the playground and find Lisa leaning on a pole, the sun will shine down and warm the pavement and your hoodie will hang from the back of your chair.
As you grow up you will learn to drive. You will drive to Anaheim almost nightly to go to Disneyland to see Krash play! You will drive to work at Baskin Robbins on Valley View. You will drive to Long Beach to hang out with your sister when you and mom can't get a long. Your car is awesome a 1968 Mustang! You call her "Becky"! She will take you all around this wonderful golden state!
As I drove by and on some of those same streets, it occurred to me how much I had missed MY California. I actually began to feel choked up inside. I have been all around the United States. I have been to Mexico. I have been to Hawaii. I have lived In 3 states, California, Nevada and Kansas. But, until I drove around here again, I never realized how much I was connected to this place.
The traffic doesn't bother me, it is a part of me. The same with the smog, the people, the noise, the economy. I never knew that a place, one solitary place could make me feel so much emotion.
In your life, you will write love letters, poems and even songs to those that you give your heart to. But, your heart really belongs to California. I wish I had known that. I would have never left.
As always, I love you!
I guess now I realize that you love California!

Patience like you

Dear Sweet Little Crystal,
I have been thinking about you a lot lately, little girl. Maybe because I am getting ready to move back to California. Maybe it is because it is nearly 1 year since mom has passed away. I am not sure why you cross my mind so much at certain times, but you do.
Right now, I am trying to get a job out in California from my desk in Kansas. It is not usually hard for me to find work. I mean I am kind of like Jerry Maguire. I am good at interviews like he was good in a living room. But, I can't seem to get to the interview. Waiting for the phone to ring is killing me. I hate even hearing the phone ring because I want it to be about a job, but it never is. I am afraid when friends and loved ones call, I probably sound disappointed. Perhaps I even sound agitated.
Funny how things change. You are a very patient little girl. You do not like to impose on people. You don't like people to be upset it makes you feel sad. You don't want them to leave or ship you off.
So there you are at Disneyland. It has been a long and exciting day. But your ear hurts. It hurts real bad. You don't want to tell anyone because the parade is coming and you are all lining up for the famous Disney Electrical Parade. Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jim seem very excited. Linda, Craig and Christine too are so filled with anticipation. You wish you could be too. But your ear hurts very bad. Maybe you can keep it warm. If it were warm, the pain could go away. So you lay down on the curb and put your little head down on someone's feet like a pillow. I can't see who it is. Maybe it is Aunt Nancy. Her shoes would be clean enough to lay down on. Everyone snickers at you. They think you are tired. You are a little girl and it has been a very big day. So, they think you are laying down and about to fall asleep. But, the pain is too great. You just want this parade to come and go. It seems like forever, but you do not complain, you do not tell a sole, and you try to enjoy the floats and princesses that pass you by. You are such a good girl. Finally the parade ends. "Can we go now?" you ask Aunt Nancy. "You want to go?" she asks with a surprised lilt in her voice. She thought that no child every wanted to leave the happiest place on earth. "Yes please. I have an ear ache." Suddenly, it dawns on her why you have been laying at their feet and being so quiet and still. She swoops you up in her arms and as only a mother would do in one graceful movement, kisses your head to check for fever.
I don't have your patience any more, little one. I whine and cry and tell anyone who will listen about every tiny troublesome issue. If that were the me I am now, I would have already posted it 15 times on Facebook before the parade started.
Oh maybe I am not that whimpy, but I sure wish mom were her to kiss my forehead. I know I don't have a fever, but somehow that always made me feel better. Maybe if I lay my head down, it will all be over soon and I can be home, in California!
As always squirt, I love you!

It's been awhile

Dear Little Crystal,
You are so tiny and people always comment on that about you. Your best friend calls you a bag o bones. When you play softball your coach says "You are just too little. I'm going to have to throw you back." Of course he is referring to fishing and how if you catch a small fish you throw it back so it can grow up. Your dad always has you get things that fall under the couch or in tight spots "because you can fit". One day you meet Lou Ferrigno and they talk about how is bicep is 21 inches around. It is bigger than your waist. Scarlett O'hara would be jealous!
You are watching Jack LaLanne on TV. He is doing his world famous jumping jacks. You want to be fit and healthy like him. He looks strong and lean. You are tiny and weak. But my sweet little Crystal, the world is a confusing place. People will try to teach you that skinny IS healthy and so begins your unhealthy relationship with food. This battle you have with food will lead you down a path where you will go days without food. Smoking and coffee will be your nutrients. And then one day you will give that up and decide to eat. But, you have no idea what to eat or how to control yourself. So the battle will go an entirely different direction and you will become obese.
I am so sorry that you did not learn about health and nutrition while you were young and seeking it. I wish Jack LaLanne could've come out of the TV and taken you by the had. There will come a day you will have some teachers (Mr Hyluwka and Mr Chaldu) who will try to teach you about healthy choices but by then you are too far gone into self destruction to hear what they have to say.
So here I am today little Crystal. I am 43 (almost 44) and I am doing something desperate to undo all the damage we have done. I am on a local TV show called The Biggest Loser. I work out 5 days a week at 5 am and I am on a very strict diet. But I am so happy I have people willing to help me get my life to where it should have always been. You would be proud of me. I may do a few jumping jacks today just for you.
As always, I love you.

Dear Little Crystal

I can't write to you without one day writing to you about the pain. Besides the pain of being abandoned, there is other pain and I don't like to remember. I don't like to talk about it. You don't like to either.
But I must close my eyes and go back. Remembering then pain helps me remember why I am the woman I am today. It helps me to be the loving mom I am and it may help someone else.
So, I close my eyes. When I see you right now your are just a toddler. A baby really. You are in a bathroom. I don't know if you know it is a bathroom, but as you get older and you recall this event, you realize it is a bathroom. In the bathroom is a basin of water. (Again later you will realize this is toilet and not just a basin of water at all). You like to play and splash in the water. It is fun.
Daddy comes into the room. In my memory I don't actually see him walk in. I don't recall his clothes or the way he looks. I just remember that you see daddy. Your real daddy. You are not at Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jim's house yet.
As you play and splash in the water a stream of water comes from daddy and you play and splash in that too. You giggle and laugh. He thinks it's funny and laughs too. The memory fades after that.
As you grow up you begin to realize that the stream of water coming from daddy is urine. You will share this story only with a select few. It embarrasses you.
You often wonder if you imagined this or made this up. But I know you didn't.
There are a few other bad memories you have that will haunt you like this one. And when you remember this one, it makes you feel sick. You feel dirty and stupid. "What was wrong with me?" you will ponder. "Why did I play in his pee?"
My dear little princess, you did nothing dirty, wrong or stupid. You were a BABY! As I play the scene in my head again now, I can change the outcome because I am your protector. I can come in and sweep you up into my arms. Just like your mom should have done. I can take you out of the bathroom and clean you up. I can take you away from the bad man. He is the one who is dirty, wrong and stupid. What was wrong with HIM?
I am so sorry this incident has humiliated you for so many years. Adults think children are dumb. They don't remember. They don't understand. They will forget. They are resilient.
Adults can be stupid.
It is a little memory. But, it hurts you and I am sorry. You should be remembering good times, happy times, favorite toys and cute little pets. But, instead the only memories you have from before you were 3 are bad memories.
I am here for you today little one. He can not humiliate you any more.
I love you!
Crystal

Dear Little Crystal

Yesterday was Craig's birthday. It was also your Grandpa's birthday (Aunt Nancy's dad). Come to think of it, it was also your good friend Tammy's birthday. You will meet her when you get to high school.
I was thinking about Craig as I do every year on his birthday. We do not talk much. He does not like me. I am not sure why, but it is just the way it has been for years. You on the other hand, you think he is awesome. That will change in time as he gets angrier with life in general. But the little you, thinks he is the best.
As I thought about Craig I remember a very funny story about him. I am sorry that my memory is already horrible when it comes to how old you are when these things happen, but I imagine you were about 5 when this particular episode occurs. That would make Craig about 11. That is OLD to you!
You live in a ranch style house. As you walk in the door the family room and dinette area are to the left. The dinette area is attached to the kitchen. Straight behind the kitchen is the formal dining room. Straight in front of you is the living room. If you walk a few steps you will see a hall to your right. All the bedrooms are down that hall. 2 on the right and 2 on the left and a bathroom is at the end of the hall.
On this day, you are standing in the hall talking to ma. Craig is running from the shower to his room when his towel flies open and you see his privates. You have never seen this before. He runs into his room. You are still in shock at what you saw. You look up at your mom and say, "When I grow up am I gonna have one of those?" and your mom, being the quick witted woman that she is does not miss a beat and says "I hope not!"
She was so funny and I think you get your wit from her.
Love as always,
Crystal

Dear Little Crystal

Today I am sad. It is Saturday and Thursday July 18, 2009 mommy died. All the memories are coming back. There are good memories and bad memories and feelings I never thought I would feel. We did not always get along. She probably spent more time disappointed in you than anything else. But, she did love you. She showed it to you in so many ways.
For instance, at night sometimes you have what you think are hallucinations. There are 3 very distinct things that happen to you. Most of the time it happens when you have a fever. Ma gives you aspirin when you have a fever. They are the little pink baby aspirin. But, they do not seem to help these hallucinations you have.
The first one that you have, you only have a few times. You awake from your sleep and hear thousands of voices yelling yes or no (to be honest I don't remember which one they said) while you scream back the opposite in defiance. Then you realize there is no one there. It is scary, but this only happens a few times. You never tell anyone about this until you are older for fear they will make fun of you.
The second happens a lot more often. You have a hard time explaining it. But, it is as if every sound you hear is in a sad monotone drone. It does not matter if it is the TV in the other room, nor if it is the toilet flushing. Why, even when you speak your voice sounds like it too.
You run to new mommy and cry "Can't you hear it? Don't you hear how everything sounds the same? Listen to my voice! It is like that too". But she can not hear it and she holds you as you cry assuring you that everything will be alright.
The third and final episode is vertigo. Although at this time you do not know that is what it is called. This one seems to happen often when you are sick.
You are in your bed and the room begins to move. You know that it is not real so you close your eyes tight. Maybe, just Maybe if you close your eyes tight it will stop. But it does not stop. It makes you feel sick and you don't like it. You wonder if there is something wrong with you. Inside your brain. You know it is not real but it feels so real. You again run to new mommy and tell her.
Ma starts to wonder if aspirin is the cause of all these hallucinations. Tylenol had become very popular and she starts to give that to you when you are sick. All of the hallucinations go away except the vertigo.
As a mommy, I can not imagine how hard it was for Nancy to take this little girl in who had come from such a troubled home and have her cry out with hallucinations. How scary as a mother to have to go through that. But she never made you feel like there was anything wrong with you. She had such grace and poise. She told you everything would be alright and it was.
I know it was hard sometimes for her to raise you. She did not like your mommy and daddy very much for what they had done. Sometimes, it was hard for her to separate you from them. It was hard for her to see you just for you. But, she did the best she could.
Real mommy and daddy were not there when you went through these hallucinations. They were not there when you later broke your arm. They were not there when your sister died. It was Nancy and Jim who lovingly cared for you during those years.
I still have vertigo. But, now I know that it is because of Meniere's disease. It is an inner ear problem and not a mental problem. I was in my 30s before they diagnosed me. But, at least I now know.
I guess the reason my mom's death has been so hard on me is because I feel orphaned all over again. It is the second time I have lost both my parents. It is so sad and I only hope that writing you and remembering all the good and bad times will help me heal.
I love you!
Crystal

Dear Little Crystal (Holidays 2008)

Well, my son arrived safe and sound (and dry). He and I were talking today and it reminded me of a time when you were sick. As I have said before, the letters I write to you are not in chronological order. The truth is, I don't remember things in order. You just simply appear to me at different times in my life. Sometimes, I hear something like a piano or a song. Sometimes I smell something like fresh bread or a fragrance like Aqua Velva (grandpa's favorite). Sometimes I see something like a little girl in the park or a man holding his child's hand as they cross the street. Those sites, sounds and smells trigger something inside of me that brings me back to you.
I am not sure what trigger it was today, but I remember it very clearly as though it were just a few days ago.
As I have stated before, you are a wise little girl. Really, you are wise beyond your years. You know this and sometimes are a bit of a show off. you like to use big words to make sure people know just how "grown up" you really are. Today you are not well and you want to tell Aunt Nancy that you are sick but you want to say it in an adult, polite way. I am not sure how old you are, but I am sure you are under 5 because at this time you are still referring to her as "Aunt Nancy" and not ma. So, this tells me you are still very young.
In your mind, it is important to please her. You must be perfect. You must act right, dress right and speak right. If you do and say the right things, maybe new mommy (Aunt Nancy) won't leave you like the other mommy did.
So, you go to her. "Aunt Nancy, I am constipated" you tell her as you hold your tummy. Aunt Nancy looks down at you with loving and sympathetic eyes and can see your pain. She takes your little hand and reassures you that she has just the medicine to make you feel all better. You take the medicine and you know that soon all will be right. But it isn't all better. As the day goes by you still feel sick. It hurts bad. So, you return to her. "Aunt Nancy, I am still constipated." you cry. Aunt Nancy looks down at you and says "You are? Well, let's get you some more medicine."
But, as time goes by you are getting worse and worse. Finally in the evening you are crying. Now you are running to her. "No matter how much medicine you give me, I still keep having to go potty!" Aunt Nancy is baffled. "What do you mean?" she asks. "I thought you said you were constipated." "Oh I am!" you tell her with tear filled eyes. "I have diarrhea!"
Oh you poor little baby. Trying to use big words you almost ended up in the hospital. Aunt Nancy holding back laughter sat down and explained to you the difference between constipation and diarrhea. She then got you the appropriate medicine.
You learned a very important lesson that day that still serves me today. Be sure you know the meaning of a word (no matter what language) before you use it in a sentence!
I love you sweet pea!
Crystal

Goodbye Mom

Today is a sad day. Aunt Nancy has passed away. I got the call this afternoon from Christine. I wish I could be in California with her. I am so sad that I am so far away. I am very glad that I went out and said goodbye to my mom just a few weeks ago. Even though I knew she was ill, I can't believe she is gone. I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around it.
I have so many memories of her. I will tell you stories about her later. But, today the pain is too fresh and new.
I am going to write one little story. Today I went to the store to get something for dinner. I saw some flank steaks on sale. Evey year on your birthday Aunt Nancy makes you anything you want for dinner. Every year without fail you ask for flank steak because Aunt Nancy made this steak sauce that was so delicious but she only made it when we had flank steak.
You love that stuff so much you almost drink it! Now when I cook, I make that steak sauce and my kids fight over it whenever we have flank steak. (Actually whenever we have any kind of steak).
When I bought the steaks today, I had not received the call yet that Aunt Nancy had passed on. Then, tonight as I ate dinner I couldn't help but remember all your favorite birthday meals with her. It became an inside joke. "What do you want for dinner Crystal? It's your birthday." she would say with a lilt in her voice. "I know what you want." her voice now taunting you just a little. "I bet you want liver & onions!" Your nose would crinkle up. "No way! I want flank steak!"
How strange I would plan this dinner tonight on nobody's birthday. It was as if God wanted me to celebrate her with the way that she celebrated me. The dinner was wonderful, a little sad, and I still think it tasted better when mom made it.
RIP Mommy I love you!
Crystal

I see you!

I see you sometimes. I see you in different stages of your life. I see you in happy moments and sad moments. And although I see you in many different places and times you are always about 3-5 years old.
My god, you were so cute! I can still close my eyes and visualize your platinum blond hair and pudgy little cheeks. You have such a profound effect on me.
Today I am a supervisor in a major retail store. It does not pay much. I am not that important. It is not what you dreamed of growing up to be. But, I am not sad. I am not disappointed. Because, I take you with me to work everyday. You are the happy, spontaneous and goofy little girl inside of me. You are the spring in my step. You have taught me that life should be playful and fun no matter what our vocation in life.
I love you,
Crystal

Dear Little Crystal 12-18-08

I am writing you these letters because there is so much that the sister, mom and woman I am wants you to know.
You are so sweet (I think I have said that before). You have such a big heart. You love and trust people and that quality is endearing. Your love and trust is as much of who you are just like the freckles on your face. It would not surprise me to find out that there is something in your DNA that makes your heart so loving and so forgiving.
I don't know why some people have taken this gift of your love and trust and just thrown it away like yesterday's garbage.
Don't they see how cute your are? Don't they see your big beautiful blue eyes? Don't they hear your contagious giggle?
Oh little princess, they are fools. They will one day regret their arrogant, self-centered ways and wish to turn back time. Even if they never do, don't close your heart. You will meet many wonderful people who need you, who will love you and who will giggle with you.
Love Crystal

Separate but equal 12-14-08

(This was one of a few letters I wrote to Little Crystal before I started my blog)

I know you are a part of me. Actually sweetie, you and I are the same person. But, somewhere along the way in my life I began to separate myself from you. In therapy I once learned that it is common for people who are abused or who have suffered a traumatic event to often dream or remember things in the 3rd person. I think this is a mechanism that God gives us to protect ourselves from the horrible reality of the pain abuse or traumatic events cause.
Somewhere along the way I began to see you as this little sweet girl. Not me as a little sweet girl, but rather just some random little sweet girl that I once knew. And although I separated us, I am not like the others in your life. I have not abandoned you. I am here to catch you when you fall, to wipe away your tears, to beam with pride over your triumphs and to love you unconditionally.
Love Always Crystal

Lucky or Blessed?

There you are. Look how cute and crazy you were. This is in the front of the house you grew up in with Aunt Nancy & Uncle Jim in Cypress, California. You are about 4 years old here. Aunt Nancy (who you soon start calling Ma), made you wear a dress every Sunday to church.
Right now I am at my computer. I am playing poker and I am remembering all the times you played cards with Ma. She taught you to play a game called Nertz and you were so good at it. It was a game of quick thinking and even faster hands. All the ladies from the neighborhood would get together and sit around the table and play Nertz. Kids were not invited to play. But, you would sit there and watch. You would even practice by yourself for hours by playing solitaire. Eventually, Ma saw how good you had become. She was already the best. But, she knew that if you two played together, there would be no stopping the Williams gals from taking down every opponent who dared to sit at our table and sip our iced tea.
It was fun. It made you feel grown up. It was also one of the few things you "knew" that mom was proud of you about.
Well little Crystal, guess what? You are still a mean card player. You play a mean game of poker. And you have some kind of weird "lucky" thing about you. You just win random things. I think it is a blessing from God. I don't really believe in luck. I feel that God finds favor in you. I feel that He always has, starting with day he put your precious life in the hands of Jim and Nancy Williams.
Let not mercy and truth forsake thee: bind them about thy neck; write them upon the table of thine heart: So shalt thou find favour and good understanding in the sight of God and man."(Proverbs 3:3-4)

Aunt Nancy

Tonight I am sad. You see, Aunt Nancy is dying. I know that she is your mommy, but she started out as Aunt Nancy. Do you remember meeting her? You were so very little, but you were so very smart. People told you that you were going to California to meet your aunt and uncle for a visit, but you knew better. You knew you were going to live there. I don't know how are why you knew that, you just did.
In California, they have a room for you. It is different then where you live now. You live in a ghetto in Detroit. It is 3 bedrooms and all 10 of you live there. It is dirty and not a good place for kids. Your new house is clean, pretty and quiet. Aunt Nancy is pretty too. She looks like a movie star. When you see her you think she looks like Bewitched.
Your real mommy is gone. You don't know where she is. No one will really tell you. They don't want to talk about it. They don't want you to think about it. You have a new mommy - just like that. Isn't that good enough? When you ask questions you are hushed. The tone and looks tells you that it is naughty to ask.
It does not seem right. So, when you close your eyes at night, you imagine all the wonderful places mommy has gone. One day she will come back to you and she will be rich and famous and she will not hush you when you ask questions. For now, you will stay quiet and learn to love your new mommy, Aunt Nancy.
It will take quite some time before you will be able to let Aunt Nancy be your mommy in the true sense of the word. For now, it seems like she is a pretty nice lady. Until you are sure however, you keep an eye on Alan and see how he does with her. He is your big brother and protector. If he trusts her, then you can too.
I see you're worried. "But, what if new mommy doesn't like me and she leaves too? What if I am not pretty enough, smart enough, or good enough?"
Oh honey, don't cry.
I am a mommy myself now. So, the mommy in me wants to wrap my arms around you and tell you that you are the smartest, prettiest, and sweetest little angle there ever could be. THIS mommy won't leave you.
As I sit here nearly 2000 miles away from Aunt Nancy, crying about that fact that she is leaving us forever, it is strange but it is HER I want to call on the phone to comfort me. I called her a lot when I was hurt.
To you, "Mom" is an image in your mind. It is a definition of what you think a mom is. She cooks, cleans, kisses boo-boos. I think you get most of your "mom" imagery from T.V. I don't know if your real mommy was like that. I remember your sisters doing those motherly type things more than your real mommy. In your mind however, a mommy is just about the most perfect person ever!
Nancy, who grew to be my mommy, was like that. I mean she wasn't perfect. She cooked, cleaned and kissed the boo-boos. I think losing her hurts so much because like Roxanne who lost her love twice, we too have loved but one mom in our life, yet we have lost her twice.
I love you Little Crystal. And just so you know, Aunt Nancy is a good mommy. She loves you. She thinks you are smart, funny and brave. There are things she sees in you she wishes she could be more like. She may be tough on you sometimes, but just remember, she expects a lot from you, because you have a lot to give.
Good night.
I love you!

Introduction

Many psychologist say that survivors of abuse and neglect never really grow up. That they stay emotionally at the age they were when they suffered the abuse or neglect. It is as though their bodies age, and their expectations progress, but somewhere inside there is sill the little child that has been locked in forever by a demon.
This blog is to my little self. I refer to her as "Little Crystal". In my mind's eye, she is about 5 years old. Although in some of the stories I tell she is older or younger. I just still see her as about 5 years old. Today she is still a big part of me. She is the one who wants to see Christmas presents under the tree with her name on them, even though I am a grown woman. She is the one who loves whip cream piled so high on hot cocoa that it leaves a white creamy mustache on her face. She is precious and fun and I am no one without her.
It is for this reason, I have so much to tell her. Some of you who know me right now, would not believe what a bright, exciting, uninhibited and curious girl Little Crystal is.
Others of you, have met her. You were there when she got off the plane at 3 years old. When she met Aunt Nancy & Uncle Jim, and when she lost Alan and gained Linda.
These letters are for her. Although they are here for you to read, They really are for her. As I go through things in my life now, I find that I have so much she needs to know. Please feel free to read and to comment. Also, please note that the letters will not be in Chronological order. They will only be in the order in which I write them. As circumstances happen throughout the day, everyday and I think of her, feel her, I may feel the urge to share with her. But, I guess they are not just for her. These letters are also for all the Little Crystal's in the world who thought they were victims or think they still are.

This above all, to refuse to be a victim. Unless I can do that I am nothing.

-Atwood, Margaret Eleanor