This story is a very special one to me, and I felt that it was so important to share. It is a very complex story filled with losses throughout Kelly’s life. In order for readers to really absorb every detail, I have decided to break up Kelly’s life story into sections, which will eventually lead up to her present life. Trust me, there IS a happy ending here, but it comes with much loss and heartache. Today I will begin her story, and I hope that you will follow through the 7 days so that you can see how her story unfolds and where she is now. Here we go with Part 1 of 7…
Author: Kelly Lynn
Throughout our lives, we all experience some kind of loss. Whether it’s a job, a relationship or friendship, a family member or friend passing away, and even sometimes losing our car keys! How we handle that loss is what will define us in life. I am NO stranger to the feeling of loss. I think I have experienced more than my fair share in my 40 years of life. I could have chosen a much different path than the one I am on because of all that loss. And I will be the first to admit that God was not always the one who I leaned to for that guidance on how to carry on after any struggles and/or loss. My first encounter with loss started at the extremely young age of 2.
To outsiders looking in, you’d think I was born into this wonderful family in New Jersey. But on the inside, behind those 4 walls, the story was much different. I had an older brother who was 6 when I was born, my mother and then my father. My father was an abusive, controlling and manipulative alcoholic. Now, being a baby, I was “lucky” enough not to remember these days. One night, after 2 long years of abuse towards not only my Mom, but to my brother and I, she decided to leave my father. The events that transpired on that warm summer evening in 1982, was the breaking point for my Mom. Earlier that evening my father, who was completely intoxicated, went on a rampage. He had beaten my brother so terribly that he had a broken arm. He had dropped me off of our second floor apartment balcony into the bushes below, and while my Mom was cooking dinner, he pulled a shotgun out and pointed it to my head. He said that if she burned dinner, “the kid would get it.” Now mind you, I don’t remember any of this, and I am only able to speak about this event through the memories my Mom shared with my soon-to-be stepfather (at a later date.) We somehow made it through the evening, and my father being completed blasted, had crashed out, and nothing was going to wake him up. My Mom quickly packed up all she could, grabbed $60 from his wallet, loaded up my brother and I in the old 1975 station wagon with the wood panels, and she headed towards Virginia. That was the last time my father ever saw me; and to this day, I would never look him up again. I do know that he passed away when I was 9 years old, from “natural causes” as the letter and social security check that followed explained. I did not mourn that “loss” so I don’t count it. He was lost a long time ago.
Loss #1, the loss of the “family” life I was to know. Even if it wasn’t the ideal situation, it was still a loss.
FindJoy 