The Lost Child- Pt. 2 Revisited

I had reposted something from very early in my blog last night. I know that there are quite a few new readers, so I thought I'd post the second part tonight...

The Lost Child- Pt. 2

The little boy lived an almost storybook life out there in those woods. Surrounded by a loving family and a beautiful world. It was all he knew now, and he didn't mind it at all.

He didn't know much about change. Just the easygoing life of the country and being the center of attention. Inevitably change would come, though.

And it did. One night his dad brought home a lady that he worked with and had started dating. This new, unfamiliar element was met by immediate suspicion and confusion. Who was this person, this outsider being introduced into his safe world? His father's intentions were very serious concerning her and before long they were married. They would be moving out and living, what seemed like, a million miles away from the only place the boy knew as home. He was plucked from the love and protection he had gotten so used to and taken to live among, what seemed to him, total strangers. He went to a new church, had new family, went to a daycare... He was scared to death of this new life that he had had no say-so in. Fear would eventually turn to resentment, and resentment is a mighty grown-up feeling to have.

So is guilt. The child actually felt guilty for having left his grandparents. He would have to deal with this for years. He felt guilty calling someone else "grandparent" (as wonderful as these new grandparents were). He felt guilty calling someone else "momma" even though the first one wasn't exactly a winner. He found himself openly comparing his new family with the people who had raised him. Not to be mean, but to alleviate some of the emotion. This still bred resentment toward him.

He'd spend weekends out in the country from time to time. When it was time to go home, he would cry and hug everyone because he didn't want to leave. His father didn't know how to deal with this. He was confused and perhaps took it personally. This confusion would turn to anger, sometimes even spanking the boy for not wanting to go. He got a spanking one time for putting change in an envelope to send to his mommaw and pawpaw. He would begin fearing his father too, and they would start drifting apart.

This was the beginning of a world the child would create in which to escape. A world that the child still lived in well into his adulthood.

The Lost Child Revisited

Been thinking lately about where I found my addictive roots... In my early childhood

I found myself hooked on as simple things as caffeine. This is a flash-back to my early days.

The country can be a magical place. Countless worlds to explore that often go overlooked by an older, more cynical mind. For a child, however, a lake, a forest, or even an old dirt road can present endless possibilities.

There was once a boy who spent his earlier years in just such a place. He had a huge family, and there were always cousins, aunts, and uncles around who doted on him. He was the baby of the baby. He liked drawing, catching bugs with his grandma, fishing, and even preaching the gospel from the front porch. There was never a lack of things to do that would capture his innocent, creative little mind.

He had a loving father, his grandparents were always there for him, he had friends that he would sometimes play with. He had a mother who didn't want him. She could be loving and protective, but she could also be ignorant and harmful. There was many a time when she would choose her wild lifestyle over the well-being of her only son. Doing drugs and being intimate with people he didn't even really know right in front of him despite the crying and the fear. She would eventually leave him and it was perhaps the best thing she ever did in her life. And his.

Things got better from there. The boy and his father moved in with his grandparents. Things became much better. Dad would work, he would spend the day outside being free and running wild, grandma would sit on the porch shelling peas. Everything seemed to have it's place. Church every Sunday, using his tiny hands to help grandpa carry firewood, walking the backwoods with his uncle to catch crawfish. It was a wonderfully simple life he spent with people he truly loved.

His mother never turned back up. He would see her from time to time at the lake with some of her more upstanding friends, and sometimes she would even act happy to see him. He couldn't understand why she would say "Hi" and then go back to her party. His grandmother was his mother now. His grandparents helped raise him and taught him many valuable things that he would forget over the years.

I feel really blessed to have this to read over again. Still feel like I've only scratched the surface.

The Lost Child- Pt. 2

The little boy lived an almost storybook life out there in those woods. Surrounded by a loving family and a beautiful world. It was all he knew now, and he didn't mind it at all.

He didn't know much about change. Just the easygoing life of the country and being the center of attention. Inevitably change would come, though.

And it did. One night his dad brought home a lady that he worked with and had started dating. This new, unfamiliar element was met by immediate suspicion and confusion. Who was this person, this outsider being introduced into his safe world? His father's intentions were very serious concerning her and before long they were married. They would be moving out and living, what seemed like, a million miles away from the only place the boy knew as home. He was plucked from the love and protection he had gotten so used to and taken to live among, what seemed to him, total strangers. He went to a new church, had new family, went to a daycare... He was scared to death of this new life that he had had no say-so in. Fear would eventually turn to resentment, and resentment is a mighty grown-up feeling to have.

So is guilt. The child actually felt guilty for having left his grandparents. He would have to deal with this for years. He felt guilty calling someone else "grandparent" (as wonderful as these new grandparents were). He felt guilty calling someone else "momma" even though the first one wasn't exactly a winner. He found himself openly comparing his new family with the people who had raised him. Not to be mean, but to alleviate some of the emotion. This still bred resentment toward him.

He'd spend weekends out in the country from time to time. When it was time to go home, he would cry and hug everyone because he didn't want to leave. His father didn't know how to deal with this. He was confused and perhaps took it personally. This confusion would turn to anger, sometimes even spanking the boy for not wanting to go. He got a spanking one time for putting change in an envelope to send to his mommaw and pawpaw. He would begin fearing his father too, and they would start drifting apart.

This was the beginning of a world the child would create in which to escape. A world that the child still lived in well into his adulthood.

The Lost Child -Pt. 1

The country can be a magical place. Countless worlds to explore that often go overlooked by an older, more cynical mind. For a child, however, a lake, a forest, or even an old dirt road can present endless possibilities.

There was once a boy who spent his earlier years in just such a place. He had a huge family, and there were always cousins, aunts, and uncles around who doted on him. He was the baby of the baby. He liked drawing, catching bugs with his grandma, fishing, and even preaching the gospel from the front porch. There was never a lack of things to do that would capture his innocent, creative little mind.

He had a loving father, his grandparents were always there for him, he had friends that he would sometimes play with. He had a mother who didn't want him. She could be loving and protective, but she could also be ignorant and harmful. There was many a time when she would choose her wild lifestyle over the well-being of her only son. Doing drugs and being intimate with people he didn't even really know right in front of him despite the crying and the fear. She would eventually leave him and it was perhaps the best thing she ever did in her life. And his.

Things got better from there. The boy and his father moved in with his grandparents. Things became much better. Dad would work, he would spend the day outside being free and running wild, grandma would sit on the porch shelling peas. Everything seemed to have it's place. Church every Sunday, using his tiny hands to help grandpa carry firewood, walking the backwoods with his uncle to catch crawfish. It was a wonderfully simple life he spent with people he truly loved.

His mother never turned back up. He would see her from time to time at the lake with some of her more upstanding friends, and sometimes she would even act happy to see him. He couldn't understand why she would say "Hi" and then go back to her party. His grandmother was his mother now. His grandparents helped raise him and taught him many valuable things that he would forget over the years.

To be continued....