The Letter . . .part 3

Hi gang, I’m moving on with this awful story; a story of treachery in a family.

excerpt: Sarah’s insurance money soon was referred to as ‘our’ money by the beloved son A. “Mom we need money to buy a house and I’ll give you a better interest rate than you’re getting from the bank so help us out.” Subsequent additions added, purchased without asking Sarah, were a pool and an indoor hot tub all put on his tab.

An uneasy feeling came over Sarah whenever she was with A and B; she tried to shake it off but something was wrong in the Garden of Eden once her family. Adam had surgery of the nose due to constant problems and since he didn’t recover instantly, he went to an alternative clinic. This was back in the eighties when this became popular to an insane degree. A psychologist was recommended and he began therapy. One day, he said, “I have to distant myself from you because my therapist said it’s necessary.”

Sarah, always agreeable since childhood in the thirties, was trained to be patient and accepting although she didn’t understand and sadly this went on for several months with Sarah not allowed to visit her grandchild and A and B and then the letter arrived with these words:”Under hypnosis, A’s therapist helped him to discover he was sexually abused by his grandmother at age two. You also sexually abused him when he was a bit older and without doubt, you have abused sexually your grandchildren; and because of this, he has developed multiple personalities.We know of people who have sued their parents because of abuse; in a perfect world, you would forgive the debts we owe you. They secretly told Sarah’s children in an attempt to poison their minds but the family didn’t believe a word; she grieved for two years of this death in the family and never saw them again but sometimes, in the night she wonders about the pain. . .what can be done for the pain?

My friends, this is a true story. I found the letter in a drawer a few weeks ago and had to share it with you. You all know me so well. I’m usually full of joy and I still am.

for more snippets:











A love letter to my lost one

We were the best couple ever, always loving and together since high school. Our motto was Marriage is one long conversation. And it was. We had our children, lost two, the Air Force years were remarkable. I was so proud of you, my handsome pilot. Civilian life proved to be tough but we made it, always talking things over, figuring out life’s problems together. The older boys chose to play guitars just as you did. Lessons, the basement arranged for their instruments and then a new era began. The seventies, the dawning of Aquarius, girls stopped wearing bras, and marijuana spread through the schools. We didn’t know it would also spread into our home. Life changed drastically as you went off to work and I was left at home with two little ones and two teens out of control.

My love, they never changed, our older children. After that , it became us, the small kids, and them. A few years later, your heart required a pacemaker. From then on you listened to your heart and forgot about me. Thirty seven years of happiness and suddenly, I was alone with a houseful of kids. You had a fever that wouldn’t go down. Doctor put you in the hospital for examination. After a few days of visiting, we sat together so sad life had changed for us. You looked at me the old way, so dear and loving, and said, “I love you.” We kissed and said goodbye.

2:30 in the morning the doctor called. Hurry, he said. By the time I arrived , you were gone.

How can I express the loss of my dearest? I can’t and it was a long time ago. So I say, “Happy Birthday wherever you are.”

My question is you were 56 when I lost you and I have aged. Have you or are you the same hale and hearty kind of guy I met in high school and we fell in love.

P.S. The older sons abandoned me after taking all the money you left to give me a comfortable life. All gone and so are they. Bad words to them from you and me.

Our two younger kids are all grown-up. Our son is married to an extraordinary woman, a fabulous artist. He continues with his artistic life of performing. They live in Denmark. Our beautiful girl grew up to be a teacher and the dearest daughter. We have a granddaughter you would love to pieces, she’s so smart and delightful. She’s nine and plays on a basketball team. You should see her guard. Or maybe you do. I wonder.

I had a bad fall and daughter and granddaughter saved my life. It’s been a difficult time, my love.

The Letter

The slumbering snake coiled in a dark corner of the closet in her mind; Sarah didn’t know it existed. In her conscious life, all was apple pie, light and happy. Like a slow IV drip, the venom leaked into the fragile fabric supporting her existence, eroding all her life’s work. In one hideous moment, a hole, never to be mended, tore through.

The day was one of the ten best days weathermen glow about; Sarah opened the letter and her dreams ended. The words hammered her until she cried.

A widow with four devoted adult children and insurance money gave her optimism about the future. She might meet someone to begin again a new life. There were no signs, no foreshadowing she felt later, much later, with hindsight always 20-20, did she recognize her mistakes. Blind faith and trust placed her where she stood, screaming, crying, the letter in her hand.

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And Then She Said

Once upon a time she was born and it was my job as Granny to care for her while daughter taught school. A whole new life began for both of us as I changed diapers, walked her in a carriage, taught her little things as she became aware of the world. And as she slept, this little munchkin, I wrote many books, rocked her when she woke and bathed her in a sink tub.

In the beginning, I often wondered how come I was doing this. The truth is I never said No to my daughter and still don’t.  The years flew by and she’s nine, a swimmer, a basketball player but most of all, when she visits me, who had a great fall like Humpty Dumpty and am still recuperating, she gets busy and does helpful stuff all on her own. Daughter taught her to be capable. The other day, she measured a special potion to kill weeds, placed it in a sprinkler and killed weeds growing in our pathway. A thorough job!

This is my grandest who plans to be a veterinarian down the long road. She loves dogs and our cats. My prayer is to live long to see our wonder grow up


to achieve her dreams. The pooch is Gracie, a rescue dog saved a few years ago to live the good life.

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More about my fall

I’m not whining, my friends. It just hit me a few days ago, I lost so much all because I fell and fell so hard that I still get concussions and vertigo and trouble walking and, and, and. What I’m expressing is a lot of grief. Me, the happy actor, the writer, always smiling has grief. Yes, I had grief when my first love died and I began again to carve out a new life but nothing like this. No, nothing like this.

Yes, people have incredible problems. I’ve always been the one to help and now I can’t drive so I’m home alone a lot as I write stories not as fine as before; nothing as good as before. Yesterday I spoke to my dear second husband and poured out my feelings. he didn’t have a clue I felt this way when he raced out the door to shop without asking me to come with him; go to the library with him, go for a walk with him. And now he knows how I feel.

And now you all know how I feel. Tonight was a treat. Daughter and grandest stopped by to lift hands and help granny straighten up a beautiful new office daughter bought for me. All new, fresh, beautiful colors. Was I busy raising all those children ignoring the beauty of our nice home. Clean, Yes. Beautiful, No because I was too busy being a mom and wife doing all the things mom’s do. Of course I battled cancer; no biggie and other surgeries but what the heck.  It’s life.

I had to share this with you as another part of my memoir. The grief of losing a large part of me due to a fall.

My best to you all written with love, Charmaine

Tomorrow I’ll give you a taste of another book, one sure to please you.