If you are a first time visitor, to better understand this blog, you may want to start on June 5, 2005.
Life at 5618 Woodgreen was never the same after the death of my father. My aunt Alice (a mother of four) told my grandmother at the funeral that Beverly was in no shape to take care of the children, that she needed some help. My grandmother's response was that she needed to go take care of her plants. Beverly was without any emotional or physical support to take care of the children. My father had a death benefit from Southwestern Bell that paid $1200 a month for the first year, $300 the second year, and $100 the third year. Twelve hundred dollars a month was huge in 1959. But money was no help to my mom. She had thyroid and pancreas problems and was deeply depressed. She was also delusional. She began telling neighbors that she had killed my father.
Pastor Robert McLaren paid our family a visit, bringing with him some of the women of the church. They found that my mother was passed out on the floor, and my sister, brother, and I were running around the neighborhood, asking the neighbors for food. The women with Pastor McLaren fed us. Pastor McLaren took my mother to the hospital and they admitted her into the psychiatric care of Jefferson Davis Hospital. My sister, brother and I went to a children's emergency shelter. Robert McLaren saved my mother's life, at least for awhile.
3 comments:
Terry, my sister was 4, I was 3, and my brother Doug was 1. I remember many things, but naturally from the perspective of a three year old.
Gayla,
Your post from yesterday is still there (on my computer :-), and I responded to it.
It is amazing what God will bring us through!
Thank you again!
Dave,
Continue to tell your story.
I have ears to listen and a heart to accept you for who and whose you are.
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