I am writing this post while in a tender and loving mood.
I grew up in a safe secure home. Was allowed to play with the neighbourhood kids In those days we could disappear for hours on end and our parents never had to worry about us. I was also allowed to bring friends home from school And I did like my non-witness relatives because we did visit them.
My mother had high emotional intelligence. She was well liked by the neighbours and loved by those in the organization. When she died in her early 40's there was literally a weeping and gnashing of teeth both from the congregation and the community.
My dad on the other hand had low emotional intelligence ( requirement to be an elder) He could be one mean overseer sometimes. But I always felt protected. In all fairness to my dad ....he was the only who saw me regularly(secretly) after disfellowshipping ocurred. And in 1987 when I was at my worst emotionally lent me money because I just couldn't work outside the home at the time.
I am an outgoing person by nature and would have loved to join the school's extra curricular activities.. Back then I would have qualified for the cheerleading squadhonestly. I was heart broken when I had to leave the choir because many of the music festivals were held in churches and heaven forbid if we stepped foot inside Babylon the Great. In grade 10 I filled in as class rep. for a students' council meeting. After lunchtime bell I gave my report. There was almost a plea for me to take the post permanently but because it a mini government that was a no go.
My nick name in high school was Selma Prude....I wore it proudly ....most of the time.
I really didn't get picked on much because I was a friendly sort but once in awhile the barbs would come out. When about 12 a kid was bad mouthing my dad and for the first time I used the F word...honestlyThe playground went silent for a moment and then we all burst out laughing. A good time was had by all.
Schooling? I would have loved to become a teacher of History, Geography or English or maybe all of them. I couldn't add or subtract my way out of paper bag.
When I run into acquaintances and friends from by gone days they are so glad to know I am out. No one has ever reminded of how I quit grade 11 and got the rest of my graduation diploma via summer school and correspondence because Armageddon was coming. I needed to pioneer. And no one reminds me of 1975 and how stupid and gullible I was.
Isn't the world a grand place? Like I said at the beginning of this essay I am feeling tender and loving at this moment but bitterness can well up sometimes. Bitterness can also rot your soul and I am finding of late that the resentment is dissipating. The feeling of a lost childhood doesn't haunt me like it used to. Do you think the healing has begun?
rosalyn
Edited by - rosalyn on 3 August 2002 12:37:44
