Family Ties

 

 Family Ties

 

So, while Claudette was occupied with her plans on destruction and mayhem aimed at her friends, they were going about their lives in a normal everyday fashion. They were busy with ordinary things, dealing with old family issues that had recently resurfaced, and simply "living" without a clue about what she was up to. Mainly because they hadn't gotten together as a group since the last time at Alexis' house when they planned this year's vacation getaway, and Claudette began to put her own plans in motion.  That was several weeks ago.

Of course they had all spoke to each other several times a week since then, as was their custom. They were after all...best friends and that's what best friends do. Bonnie had dropped by one weekend to show off her new grand baby, and Alexis had met her for drinks one evening and they'd laughed and chatted about a shopping trip to buy a few new things for their trip. All of this took place as if nothing was amiss.

She had not purposefully avoided Helena, but it just turned out that they'd had minimal contact mostly because Helena was dealing with another of Myranda's crises. Which was fine with her. And Claudette had played her role to perfection; never once in the past several weeks had she let anything slip, or allowed her true feelings to surface while in their presence or talking on the phone. Her poker face was set, and to her friends (and her own family) she was nothing less than her usual self.

Bonnie Powell was still gaga over the birth of her newest grand baby. Her daughter Kaycee was exhibiting serious signs of postpartum depression but baby Sterling was flourishing as a newborn. This presented a whole new set of problems on the horizon that Bonnie would have to eventually deal with. Alexis Martin was now officially disentangled from the Vanderberry-Merrick murder case, and her entertainment/special occasion planning business was back on track after the hiccup it suffered from the murder case fallout. And Helena Clayton was preparing to go back into the courts for permanent custody of her grandchildren.

Although Myranda Rice (Helena's former drug addict daughter) was showing signs of remarkable progress in her twelve step program, she still had a long way to go. Helena and her husband were resolved not to allow Palmer Rice's parents/stepparents get custody of Sasha, Kirk and Trey. Both of Palmer's parents had remarried. Steve and Macey Palmer were living a laid back retired lifestyle and three young children did not fit into it. Linda (Palmer's mother) and her husband Barry Major still worked part time and lived a less than sedate lifestyle. They owned a business together that involved a lot of traveling and "entertaining" so neither did they seem a good choice for raising these kids.

But, all eight people were set on making it difficult and were not willing to concede to the other. There had been a lot of name calling,finger pointing and blame assignment from all sides. Financially, either couple could handle it. Everyone was prosperous and financially stable, but of course since Helena and Stanford were the maternal grandparent they automatically assumed they would be the beer suited. And since they also had the best legal connections; they'd probably assumed correct.

It would come down to that of course; the best legal team would win the case for custody. Sadly...no one of the eight adults pursuing this would be considering the children and what was best for them. It had already started out as a pissing contest, and it would end up an enormous ego trip for the "winning" couple and a tremendously tragic outcome for Sasha, Kirk and Trey Rice. No one thought about or considered for a hot minute that these precious children had already suffered enough. They had witnessed and stood by helplessly while their mother went through her own private hell.They had heard whispers about them as a family at school, and at friends houses during sleepovers.

Palmer, Myranda, Sasha, Kirk and Trey Rice. Happier times from the past.

Neither did these grown folks who all thought they knew what was best dream that children could perceive and understand more than they received credit for. It was all about them and in the end the children would be the biggest losers.

I'm Dancing as Fast as I Can...

Sometimes the world spins out of its orbit, teeters on its axis and everything is out of control. Up is down, down is up, round is square; light becomes dark…well you get my drift. The world and all that comprises it is fragile enough anyway so it is very easy sometimes for me to get turned upside down. Chasing the darkness away and holding onto the light is almost a daily battle; trying to rock steady and hold my course.

I am a very happy, positive and forward thinking person. I rely on my spiritual awareness and maturity to guide me in all that I do. I believe in miracles, the power of healing and in the Almighty God. Yet, there is something that is barely there but is there, and it seems to lie in wait to make an unwelcome appearance; thus altering my world and making it problematic. The triggers are not always the same, but the effects from the invasive thoughts assembled in the frontal lobes of my brain are.

Like I said earlier, I am a perfectly everyday girl. I am practical, intelligent, enlightened and funny. I don’t have nightmares and I pride myself on my ability to remain calm and assured most of the time. So what is up with this entity that hides behind the goodness and tries to manipulate it into something that is not “goodness?” It has no name, no identity and no mercy.

Staying on top of situations, issues, bearing the burdens of others, being counselor and confidant can become overwhelming. It can get out of control and when it does; my life accelerates into warp drive. It becomes a challenge to focus on who needs what from me. And what have I said to whom? Everyone’s voice melts into one loud cacophony, as identities are lost or misplaced. It is comparable to being pushed into the water from a high distance unawares.

How can I keep up with the renegade suckers who insist on bombarding me with their persistent niggling annoyances? Well, what I have learned from some very reliable sources is that these bold, arrogant thought monsters are the very artistic work of the Devil Himself…or what Christians refer to as “The Enemy”. He works the hardest and the most persuasive on those who DON’T belong to him. For those who belong to God, he tries his hardest to convince us that something is wrong in our lives, and that we are not normal and our emotions are questionable.  He wants us to think that since nothing is working out for us anyway, we may as well admit defeat and cross over to his side.

We have to stand firm and on solid ground, fully anchored and grounded in the word of God, relying on his promises and not the deceitful voice of Satan. He’s powerful, but God is ALL POWERFUL. Listen to his voice and not that of Beelzebub. Do not be deceived! Dance as fast as you can to keep moving, keep being proactive by having an active prayer life, and an intimate relationship with God. Don’t become slack or let your guard down…a crack in a door is an invitation for the enemy to just walk right in and make himself at home! And once he’s there…he makes himself right at home in your mind, in your heart and in your soul.

Only an active intimate fellowship with God... that is kept alive by constant prayer and faith based belief will overcome and conquer this enemy. Without this full armor, we are defeated and will be dancing for the enemy. If you don’t know him, learn about him and get to know him. Invite him into your life and then give that life to him. Do it today; do it now…before the music stops.

Sisters Interrupted...The Last Chapter

And so by now (if you have been keeping up with the story), we are in a state of semi-shock over what has been said thus far. There is a whole new side to our friend that we had no idea existed! Far from us to be judgmental, but this was information we were simply not prepared for. Needless to say, we had to top off our drinks, and make them doubles by now. So, the story continues...

Bonnie then said that it didn’t take much cajoling on Waverley’s part to get her to join him.  He probably figured that she was getting back at her sister and frankly it was all the same to him. Whether out of spite or not, or who was using who was totally irrelevant at this point. That they got together was all he wanted. So off they went together, but out of a sense of decency; they retired to Bonnie’s old bedroom.

She spent that night and the rest of the weekend with each other with Waverley as her starter husband, and she caught up in a web of deceit, sinful lust and misplaced spite. But, as she was packing to return to college on Sunday afternoon, it hit her and it hit her hard about what she had done. The acts of betrayal were like a bitter taste in her mouth. She had no misconception about what she had done, she did not question her behavior, and no misplaced blame on her brother-in-law, she accepted her part in the dirty deed. Nevertheless, after it was all over, they avoided each other all Sunday morning. Before she donned her hair-shirt in self-recrimination, she informed him that she was going to tell her sister about what had happened.

Of course he begged her not to, but she was determined to at least get that much off of her conscience. After she had finished packing and made herself a light meal, she sat down in the living room to wait for the family’s arrival. Earlier, Evie had phoned Waverley and let him know they would be home in a couple of hours, so the time was very near...in about twenty minutes or so. He stayed locked way in the room he shared with Evie. When the door opened and her father walked in , Bonnie knew the hour had come.

She hugged and kissed her parents and gave her sister a weak smile but no intimacy passed between them. Amid her Mom’s questions and attempts at conversation, Bonnie asked Evie to come into her room upstairs. Long story short, she broke it down to her about the weekend with her husband, and although she was sorry she had hurt her, she wanted to leave with a clear conscience. Well, Evelyn Yvette wasn’t about to let it go that easily. She hit Bonnie smack dab in the face, and Bonnie hit her back. After that it was punch for punch and lick for lick. A real knockdown drag out cat fight. 

Their parents came up and broke up the fight, sat them down and tried to understand what had caused this. So of course the whole sordid tale was repeated, her Mom was mortified and she cried and nearly passed out, her dad was ready to kill Waverley and Evie vowed never to speak to her again. They shared the same parents, but they were no longer sisters. It had been that way until this day. Bonnie admitted she had made several attempts at reconciliation over the years, but Evie had not responded. 

Yes, she had truly repented of her sins, and God forgave her and after a time she forgave herself. It took a while, but she and her parents had put the past behind them and Evie and Waverley were still married, but she never saw them. Bonnie had paid the price for a brief time of reckless abandon and the cost was extremely high.

She missed her sister. Never would she have believed she would feel this way, especially after the way their relationship was anyway...tolerant but not bonded in sisterhood. After a few moments of silence, we pulled ourselves together and Alexis got us all to hold hands and we got down on our knees and prayed for healing of this awful family rift, and we asked God to restore these sisters to a relationship better than it was before. To give them back what had been lost between them, and then we all had a beautiful tear fest...after all what are friends for?

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This is a Man's World... Stanford's Story

But it wouldn't be nothing...nothing without a woman or a girl. Men have assumed the aggressive role in the male-female relationship since the beginning of time. But it takes a special man who is not afraid to follow his heart and to set his mind on giving the heart what it wants. He must be the sort of man who doesn't give up easily and who doesn't play mind games, and is dedicated to the pursuit of excellence.

One particular example comes to mind with the cave man and his macho possessiveness toward his woman. A cave man would use brute strength to pick her up and toss her over his shoulder and literally carry her away to his own cave dwelling. Now I say that here was a man who knew what he wanted and wasn't shy about going to get it. Not to say that I agree with any man using brute strength for any reason with a woman, but admittedly there is some appeal to the prospect of a man taking on a proactive part in going after and getting his woman. And this can be especially appealing when the man is someone who was tripping your trigger anyway and someone you can imagine a future with. Not so wonderful if the man whose pursuing you is a first class nut job.


Stanford Clayton had had plenty of time to consider the results of his violent actions toward his wife. He had spent time in jail while waiting for his bail to be arranged, and after his release he went home to an empty house, knowing that his wife was still confined to the hospital bed mending from the wounds he had inflicted on her. His children had become estranged because of the drama and the tragedy that had exploded within the family. His employees were reserved (to say the least) in their attitudes toward him and even his own parents had become almost alienated from him.  He could half-way deal with all of this, but the only forgiveness he wanted was from his wife. He had forgiven Helena for her affair, but he had yet to forgive himself for the awful things he had done.

He wandered about the huge house all day in sadness and recrimination. He slept most of the mornings away since sleep eluded him at night; most nights it was two-three in the mornings when he would finally fall into a fitful sleep that was haunted by the images of Helena bruised and battered and sobbing and screaming. When he wasn't having what passed for sleep and he was awake he was plagued by images of her and Griffin McCoy...her wrapped in his arms and his hands all over her.

Several times Stanford had become physically ill because he could not shut down his thoughts and his mind had become a battlefield of dark and sickening places that even the daylight hours could hardly chase away. He absolutely had to do something to turn all of this around. But, he was forbidden by law to visit the hospital. He could not call her. He had managed to get his daughter to listen to him for five minutes during which he begged her to please tell Helena how sorry he was and to please forgive him. She had reluctantly agreed to pass along his message, but she did not come back to him with a reply.

He still loved his wife with all that he had. He did not want to lose her, and he wanted desperately to get their old life back. He was more than willing to put his heart and his soul into rebuilding their marriage and reclaiming their love, for he was convinced that with time Helena would admit that she was still in love with him too. He knew that she must have truly felt something for Griffin because he knew his wife's character and she would not have jeopardized her perfect lifestyle for just a few physical encounters. What was the hardest for him to admit to himself was that he had played a major role in her infidelity. He had dropped the ball somewhere along the way, and although he could not excuse her affair, he could understand her reasons for having it.

Stanford vowed to re engineer himself into a better husband if...no; when she came home and they could begin to put back together the broken pieces of the life they shared. As fragile as their bond was now, he would hold onto hope because hope was all he had right now. Never having been a spiritual man, he had just recently discovered that what he truly needed in his life was God; a serious and real relationship with God. It was the one and only way he could fully recover from his own darkness and help his wife out of hers so they could mend their relationship was to let in the light of God's love and forgiveness.

Yes, Stanford was a man on a mission and the sooner he could begin that mission the better. And what better way to start than on his knees.


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