Blogger Reveals All!

After my last blog entry, some of you may think I'm pretty hopeless in the old faith department. And I don't know, maybe I am. I'm very big on praying for God to protect my friends and loved ones when I can't, and also overly-convinced of my own personal responsibility to make sure that everyone is very, very safe at all times. Like God really needs me to step in if He isn't in the mood or something.

I learned to feel responsible for people at a young age, and I haven't quite recovered yet.

When I was nearly two years old, my four-year-old brother died, just two days after open heart surgery to repair a congenital heart defect. I don't remember him, and yet I've always known him as the single most influential person in my young life. From the stories I've been told and the photographs I've seen from that period, I pretty much sat in a corner and took care of my dolls for the next couple years. I didn't smile or talk much or ask for anything, which was a great relief to my mother, who already had a demanding six-month old (Hi, Liz!) by the time Patrick died.

My parents hung on for dear life for many years, my father turning to alcohol and gambling and my mother to yelling and screaming. Trust me. It was a lot of fun.

I always took up for my father, and wished to defend him from the pain my mother inflicted, even if he did do her wrong big-time. He had his first heart attack when I was twelve, convincing me even more that it was my responsibility to take care of him. I'd already witnessed my grandfather's first heart attack when I was eight, so this emotional caretaking role was nothing new for me, but still.

By that time, my Aunt Cathy's husband had been decapitated in a drunk driving accident, with him playing the role of the drunk. He left behind a wife and three little kids. Not only that, but my father's uncle Frank had eaten with us one evening when I was six or so. He drove himself home and then dropped dead, inspiring in me a lifelong fear of my mother's cooking.

Three of my first cousins died in their 20s and 30s--one of AIDS, one in a car wreck, and one by his own hand. After that, the good times really started rolling.

The morning Mom and Dad and I, along with my brother John and sister Bridget, were to leave for a month in Scotland in 1976, my grandfather evidently wasn't dealing too well with the stress of his only child (Mom) flying over the ocean. So he dropped dead to prove his point. Right after Mom had just finished feeding him a lovely breakfast of bacon and eggs. Another pattern emerging, hmmm? She didn't cook for company that often, but when she did, whoa, baby!

And then six months later, around the precise time Doug and I hopped on a plane to honeymoon in Jamaica, Doug's dad had a heart attack. He survived another three months, but I don't think I've ever quite recovered.

I know, I know. Stuff happens. It happens to everyone. It's the fabric of our lives, and all that. But evidently I'm one of those people for whom stuff--because it happened too early and too often--made a weird and lasting impact.

I don't often tell you stories like these, dredged up as they are from my long-ago past, but I guess I'm in the mood to tell it like it is. Or was. Because, well, this is why I am who I am, why I'm nervous about planes, trains, and automobiles. And heart attacks. And Mom's home cooking.

If you'd like to share why you're as weird as you are, feel free. This is an equal-opportunity-for-nutty-commenters blog!

Posted by Katy on 06/01/05 at 08:45 PM

Fallible Comments...

Well, ditto Katy's stories, except I wasn't around for Patrick dying, but I'm sure the effects of that are ongoing. I'd probably have to add our own dad dying when I was only 17 (of a heart attack, of course...I wonder what Mom cooked that week..), and the dangerous course of my life that followed thereafter. I'm lucky to have survived, but wouldn't have changed the things I did as that is what has made me who I am today...a fighter and a surviver. Then there's my car accident from 3 1/2 years ago...but that's a whole 'nother story...much too long to post here, but which has affected me in too many ways to count. Love to you, Katy. Glad that Carrie is back in the US!!! :)
-----
Posted by Bridget on 06/02/05 at 04:51 AM
Wow, Katy. You've been through a lot of tragedy and heartbreak. I like the way you can weave humor about your mother's cooking through a story about so much sorrow. (Or were you not kidding?)

I'm so thankful Carrie is back. I don't think you need to apologize for battling fear. I know I do it, too. And asking others for prayer is wise, not wimpy. You're actually doing us a favor by ushering us into God's presence on your behalf.

Bottom line is we don't know what's going to happen, and sometimes sin, death, and evil prevail. But never without our Lord's permission and purpose. At least that's my faith stand. I pray the fulness of God's purpose to be accomplished through these events that have had an impact on your life. And may He continue to watch over your precious children in their travels.

Peace of Christ,
Jeanne
Posted by Jeanne Damoff on 06/02/05 at 05:41 AM
I don't have an excuse. My parents gave me all the best things that they could. All my brothers and sisters were healthy. I was accident prone and had a lot of stiches as a kid but never once even broke a bone.

I was a middle child too so I didn't have the pressures of being the oldest or youngest. I did well in school and never got into trouble. So what happened with me? How did I get weird? How did I become a blogin Idiot? It's more fun that way.

Peace be with you.
Take Care
Michael
Posted by Blogin Idiot on 06/02/05 at 06:22 AM
Oh, Michael...you mean I can also add having the "pressure" of being the youngest child?!? Yeah! Of course that's not my problem at all (or is it? hmmm...), but it's nice to know that I can use that as an excuse for how I am!
Posted by Bridget on 06/02/05 at 06:56 AM
You're not weird. Your experiences have contributed to your charm and empathy. (And I can say that 'cuz I've been reading for a long time.)

You are doing the best you can with what God has given to you. And quite eloquently, too.
Posted by Maria on 06/02/05 at 08:07 AM
Even with a tough past, I don't consider any of the experiences I had 'excuses' for anything. I recently posted a short testimony on my site and it was good for me to share it. I hoped people would see how God has been with me when I "walked through the waters." I couldn't see it then, but He was there.
I'm sure He was with you too, Katy. And your sensitivity and compassion indicate this. He comforts us so we can be comforted, but also so we can learn to be comforters. Thanks for sharing with us. God bless you and I hope you find someone to comfort you more.
Posted by Paula on 06/02/05 at 09:51 AM
Well, Katy, at least you came out smelling like a rose. You have to remember that you are one POSITIVE person. You must ead Phil 4:13 a lot.

HACWN tonight.

Blessings!
Posted by Paul Nichols on 06/02/05 at 06:57 PM

Page 1 of 1 pages

Commenting is not available in this weblog entry.

Next entry: Let The Children Come To Me

Previous entry: I'm All Shook Up

<< Back to main


		more fallible attitude »

Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	Blogger Reveals All! After my last blog entry, some of you may think I'm pretty hopeless in the old faith department. And I don't know, maybe I am. I'm very big on praying for God to protect my friends and loved ones when I can't, and also overly-convinced of my own personal responsibility to make sure that everyone is very, very safe at all times. Like God really needs me to step in if He isn't in the mood or something. I learned to feel responsible for people at a young age, and I haven't quite recovered yet. When I was nearly two years old, my four-year-old brother died, just two days after open heart surgery to repair a congenital heart defect. I don't remember him, and yet I've always known him as the single most influential person in my young life. From the stories I've been told and the photographs I've seen from that period, I pretty much sat in a corner and took care of my dolls for the next couple years. I didn't smile or talk much or ask for anything, which was a great relief to my mother, who already had a demanding six-month old (Hi, Liz!) by the time Patrick died. My parents hung on for dear life for many years, my father turning to alcohol and gambling and my mother to yelling and screaming. Trust me. It was a lot of fun. I always took up for my father, and wished to defend him from the pain my mother inflicted, even if he did do her wrong big-time. He had his first heart attack when I was twelve, convincing me even more that it was my responsibility to take care of him. I'd already witnessed my grandfather's first heart attack when I was eight, so this emotional caretaking role was nothing new for me, but still. By that time, my Aunt Cathy's husband had been decapitated in a drunk driving accident, with him playing the role of the drunk. He left behind a wife and three little kids. Not only that, but my father's uncle Frank had eaten with us one evening when I was six or so. He drove himself home and then dropped dead, inspiring in me a lifelong fear of my mother's cooking. Three of my first cousins died in their 20s and 30s--one of AIDS, one in a car wreck, and one by his own hand. After that, the good times really started rolling. The morning Mom and Dad and I, along with my brother John and sister Bridget, were to leave for a month in Scotland in 1976, my grandfather evidently wasn't dealing too well with the stress of his only child (Mom) flying over the ocean. So he dropped dead to prove his point. Right after Mom had just finished feeding him a lovely breakfast of bacon and eggs. Another pattern emerging, hmmm? She didn't cook for company that often, but when she did, whoa, baby! And then six months later, around the precise time Doug and I hopped on a plane to honeymoon in Jamaica, Doug's dad had a heart attack. He survived another three months, but I don't think I've ever quite recovered. I know, I know. Stuff happens. It happens to everyone. It's the fabric of our lives, and all that. But evidently I'm one of those people for whom stuff--because it happened too early and too often--made a weird and lasting impact. I don't often tell you stories like these, dredged up as they are from my long-ago past, but I guess I'm in the mood to tell it like it is. Or was. Because, well, this is why I am who I am, why I'm nervous about planes, trains, and automobiles. And heart attacks. And Mom's home cooking. If you'd like to share why you're as weird as you are, feel free. This is an equal-opportunity-for-nutty-commenters blog! Posted by Katy on 06/01/05 at 08:45 PM Fallible Comments... Well, ditto Katy's stories, except I wasn't around for Patrick dying, but I'm sure the effects of that are ongoing. I'd probably have to add our own dad dying when I was only 17 (of a heart attack, of course...I wonder what Mom cooked that week..), and the dangerous course of my life that followed thereafter. I'm lucky to have survived, but wouldn't have changed the things I did as that is what has made me who I am today...a fighter and a surviver. Then there's my car accident from 3 1/2 years ago...but that's a whole 'nother story...much too long to post here, but which has affected me in too many ways to count. Love to you, Katy. Glad that Carrie is back in the US!!! :) ----- Posted by Bridget on 06/02/05 at 04:51 AM Wow, Katy. You've been through a lot of tragedy and heartbreak. I like the way you can weave humor about your mother's cooking through a story about so much sorrow. (Or were you not kidding?) I'm so thankful Carrie is back. I don't think you need to apologize for battling fear. I know I do it, too. And asking others for prayer is wise, not wimpy. You're actually doing us a favor by ushering us into God's presence on your behalf. Bottom line is we don't know what's going to happen, and sometimes sin, death, and evil prevail. But never without our Lord's permission and purpose. At least that's my faith stand. I pray the fulness of God's purpose to be accomplished through these events that have had an impact on your life. And may He continue to watch over your precious children in their travels. Peace of Christ, Jeanne Posted by Jeanne Damoff on 06/02/05 at 05:41 AM I don't have an excuse. My parents gave me all the best things that they could. All my brothers and sisters were healthy. I was accident prone and had a lot of stiches as a kid but never once even broke a bone. I was a middle child too so I didn't have the pressures of being the oldest or youngest. I did well in school and never got into trouble. So what happened with me? How did I get weird? How did I become a blogin Idiot? It's more fun that way. Peace be with you. Take Care Michael Posted by Blogin Idiot on 06/02/05 at 06:22 AM Oh, Michael...you mean I can also add having the "pressure" of being the youngest child?!? Yeah! Of course that's not my problem at all (or is it? hmmm...), but it's nice to know that I can use that as an excuse for how I am! Posted by Bridget on 06/02/05 at 06:56 AM You're not weird. Your experiences have contributed to your charm and empathy. (And I can say that 'cuz I've been reading for a long time.) You are doing the best you can with what God has given to you. And quite eloquently, too. Posted by Maria on 06/02/05 at 08:07 AM Even with a tough past, I don't consider any of the experiences I had 'excuses' for anything. I recently posted a short testimony on my site and it was good for me to share it. I hoped people would see how God has been with me when I "walked through the waters." I couldn't see it then, but He was there. I'm sure He was with you too, Katy. And your sensitivity and compassion indicate this. He comforts us so we can be comforted, but also so we can learn to be comforters. Thanks for sharing with us. God bless you and I hope you find someone to comfort you more. Posted by Paula on 06/02/05 at 09:51 AM Well, Katy, at least you came out smelling like a rose. You have to remember that you are one POSITIVE person. You must ead Phil 4:13 a lot. HACWN tonight. Blessings! Posted by Paul Nichols on 06/02/05 at 06:57 PM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: Let The Children Come To Me Previous entry: I'm All Shook Up << Back to main


copyright 2011, ngenius media inc.

Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

Recent Posts

Search

Syndicate

Blogger Reveals All!

Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri