Separate names with a comma.
Discussion in 'Stories From Inside Scientology' started by Gottabrain, Mar 26, 2010.
That is so awesome!! Like mother, like daughter, and I just BET she danced!!!!
That is a very good verse, Udarnik.
I was worried about my fourth daughter growing up by herself with way older sisters and older parents, so that's why I decided to have my fifth daughter. I was watching her fly round and round on a little aeroplane ride by herself and thought how that is something I would have always done with my sister, and my big girls would always have done with their sisters. So we decided to have another child so they could hopefully still have each other to go through life when we were gone.
But of course it never occurred to me in my wildest dreams that my fifth daughter would be born with such a debilitating condition, so they could not be the companions for each other in the full sense that I had hoped. My daughter always loved her little sister fiercely, though.
And she is such a lovely person. There's nothing nasty or evil in that child at all. She's not as pure and saintly as people would like to paint her - even me - but she's the closest person I've ever met to what I would describe as "pure" - and I don't even know what I mean by that exactly.
I mean, she's fourteen now, and I'm sure she thinks about boys and there might be times when she deeply resents both her parents, but it's like it's not in her to hate or something. I don't know. Anyhow, she can't have a conversation with anybody or care for herself and we really don't know how long she'll be with any of us on our journey. But her life has been a great gift to us all and, with all the people she has touched, may end up being my most important legacy to this world.
WAY COOL, Sallydannce.
Here's another one for the neighbors...I was raised on this stuff.
OK, Face, that's unusual. You say you grew up on that stuff. From your language patterns, I peg you as someone from the South or the Southish parts of the Midwest (Southern Indiana, Missouri, etc.) or West (Arizona). Your patterns would also fit certain African American demographics, but I dismissed that out of hand, because Jesse Prince notwithstanding, there were very few African Americans in Scientology in the 70s.
So where did you grow up on that stuff? Because I grew up on it too. Despite being a redneck with a Ph.D., there were three white folks in the Baptist church I grew up in - me, my mom and my dad. So I grew up on religious music like this:
Construction of playlist for neighbours
I'm working on tonight's playlist to uphold the tradition of "music while you pee at 3 a.m." for the neighbours.
Mum loved this song so I'll start here:
Staying with the Ink Spots, next will be this dear old song:
Mum? Can I please throw in one of my songs, something from the Rolling Stones maybe? No? Vera Lynn you say?
I don’t want to derail this Thread however, I LUVS Clara Ward and you’ve intrigued me with your brief Bio Sketch. You have led what sounds like a fascinating life, Udarnik.
In the interests of my anonymity I have not posted where I’m from other than that I was raised a rural, country, Agrarian Westerner (beef & dairy cattle, orchards). I am about 60% Switzerdeutsch, 30% Austrian and the rest British. My parents were both from a small protestant sect and community that were an Anabaptist offshoot similar to the Mennonites. When I was young my parents became Born Again, Charismatic, Speaking in Tongues, Holy Roller Pentecostal’s. My mother was a church Organist/Pianist and Music/Choir Director.
I left home 2 weeks after high school graduation and moved nearly a thousand miles to the suburbs of a large city to attend a small, private university. I had a partial scholastic scholarship, grant in aid and worked part time during the school year and 2 full time jobs during the summer to pay for my education and Liberal Arts BA. I have traveled extensively and lived in the West and South only (except for my time on the Apollo) and am a medically retired Rancher, Cattleman and Agribusiness CEO.
There was a small population of African Americans in the area and when I was in grammar school I became best friends with the son of the Preacher at the “Colored” Church. I HATED going to my parents church and convinced them to let me go to my friend’s church. My friend was very bright and diligent and his parents were wonderful folks and were very kind to and accepting of me. I played grade school and high school sports (Football, Basketball & Baseball), sang in Madrigal and Advanced Choir and held Student Government Offices together with my friend and he is as fine a human being as has ever drawn breath. My friend wound up as the Salutatorian (National Honor Society) of or high school class, Football Team Co-Captain, State Sprints Finalist and Student Body President (this was at a school that was only 5% Ethnic Minorities) and went to a big name university on a football/track and academic full scholarship and and earned an MD from a renowned medical school.
There were several African Americans on the Apollo and I became close friends with Alethia Taylor (LRH Pers Sec), her Husband Luten Taylor (3rd Mate and Trombone with the Apollo Stars) and David Gil. I was about the only one outside of them that knew what it was like to "put on your best hat" and go to a real Church on Sunday that was A-L-I-V-E.
Re: Construction of playlist for neighbours
Transported to worlds of peach and gold shoes with peachy-pink vintage dresses and hats shimmying in the sunshine and cheek to cheek dancing on polished wood floors with lemon sponge cake and jellies and pav on the table. It's all mixed up there together in my head.
So had to lol at that.
This just made me cry from the first note. I love you, Sally.
For Sally's mum.
Funny that, I feel another story coming on.....
Wayyyy back in 75, I bought myself a stereo. And a little music to go with it. I was a 2nd year apprentice then.
Dad got the shits with me for wasting my money. He also didn't miss the chance to rub it in either, with a quick dig at me anytime he passed the room.
So I got the shits with him.
I found one of his old Vera Lynn records and put it on to play.
About 10 seconds later, his head poked around the corner, ears pricked quite high.
Said..."That sounds good!", then he came in and sat down to listen for a spell.
2 years later, he bought the stereo off me (as I needed some cash then). Said it shouldn't leave the family. Yeah, right Dad..
I realized then that I had found a secret weapon. If you want to get your point across, tell the story in their terms. They'll eat out of your hands then.
I think I played "Tulips in Amsterdam" for him.
We played this song at Dad's funeral as we marched in with his coffin.
I thought it was a very fitting song.
It was also quite uplifting.
A box of rocks...
I’m up to my eyeballs in sorting out my mothers estate. She kept everything! A child of the great depression, she was well in keeping with her generation. In this context I totally understand her behaviour, and have great compassion for what she went through as a child.
But with the overwhelming task of getting it all sorted and presenting a house for the market I find myself wavering between “why the fuck did she keep this?!?” to “wow! I am so glad she kept this!” to “I want out! I am running…”
I work between mild anger and buzzing wonder. Mum also kept a lot of dad’s stuff – he passed away in 1995 - so I am sorting through his stuff too. I am thrilled to report that he kept a box of stones/rocks. Yes, rocks! I have no idea where they came from or why the hell mum didn’t get rid of them.
I am now well known at the recycling place, the Salvation Army and the metal recycling place. They all smile kindly at me and say stuff like “it’s a big job eh…”
The neighbours are being very kind and supportive. On Friday afternoon we were all out there mowing our lawns. I felt such a deep sense of belonging. I grew up in this house, the land was my great-grandfathers, dad built the house (early 1950s) and it feels like my people have been here “forever”. I have no idea how I am going to manage to sell the property. Emotionally it is messing with my head. I simply can’t see a way to keep the property and fulfill the legal obligations of mum’s will.
As I was mowing the side-lawn I had this vivid memory of being a kid, playing tennis on the lawn. I could almost hear the music blaring from my brothers stereo. God was I ever that young and carefree! Tears. The child in me wants to turn back the clock and play it all over again, only with more love and kindness. I’d get it right(ish) if I could only have a re-run. Which is total bullshit and I know it. In reality I have a lot of acceptance of what has happened in my family (it is a fractured family with two of my siblings completely out of contact).
So I have to deal with that too! I have a lot of anger towards my brother and sister for not making contact with mum before she died. I was the one that saw the hurt in her eyes, the one that listened to her bewilderment about their behaviour. She didn’t deserve to be ignored like that. Shunned. Fuck that!
Mum talked to me about it and suggested they might need me more than I needed them in the years ahead. She was worried about how they would cope in the years to come and that my love might come in handy. Her capacity to remain kind and loving towards them irritated me and I told her this. She just said “find a way Glenda, find a way to love them.” God. She counselled me brilliantly these past few years. She left me so much to work with. She wasn't perfect but she was insightful in ways I am now finally discovering.
But it is truly testing me because the way I currently feel is to bitch-slap my brother and sister from here to hell, and back again, and all bets are off for me being sweet, nice and kind should they ever reappear in my life. I just feel fierce about what they did to mum – ignoring her and letting her die wondering why. Life has so many challenges eh.
Mum in her late teens.
A beauty . . .
Re: A box of rocks...
Oh my Glenda but no truer nor wiser words were ever spoken.
Thank you so much for continuing your story Glenda. You raise us all up with it.
I have not been able to be on here much at all this past week but when I saw this thread listed as having gotten a recent posting from you I had to read it.
It's taken me 10 minutes to compose myself enough to type this.
Thank you Glenda, thank you!
Re: Rest in Peace Mum
Gottabrain here. Thinking of you and sending my love your way.
How are you now? Have you gotten everything sorted out? Are you feeling balanced again?
Thinking of you....
Sheila! Gidday! Kia Ora! Ni Hao! So nice to get your post. Thank you.
I am still gently grieving the loss of my mother. It still feels odd being without living parents. Being with my mother all the way to her last breath was a very moving – and life changing – experience. I miss her terribly though also have a deep peaceful calm acceptance. I didn't realise that when my mother died how many memories would surface but it feels like my whole life has come up for a bit of an inspection. The connections in my family, some very damaged, have also been challenged. There have been some very intense testing moments sorting out my mothers affairs - let's just say every family seems to have its "drama quotient". I'm kind of over it all and can't wait until it is all done. It is a big job sorting out the life of someone who had lived in the same house for over 60 years.
Me feeling balanced? Emotionally resilient, yes. Balanced? Honey I am menopausal so to hell with balance. As I move through my passage to power, I am feeling it all, my way. I am no longer the queen of avoidance - or numb. I no longer dissociate automatically - much. It can happen when I get triggered or too stressed/tired. Self-care is important stuff. Eat well, sleep well, mindfulness, conscious nurturing, etc. I have a broad "tool kit" and a healthy insight into my past and what makes me tick. I am truly blessed. I have had some stunning therapy (love to both Susan and Deb, you both rock!) and had access to vast amounts of information which has helped me re-frame myself and my life.
Hoping to seriously play with some creative stuff next year when mum's estate is finalised. I feel the need to take some time out and indulge in all things creative. In a perfect life I'd go hang out with a bunch of creative crazies, write all day, sit around a fire every evening telling stories, listen to great music and fall asleep in a heap of contented creative energy.
I am building a simple meaningful life, and finding ways to quietly make this happen. I've done deep work and now I get to enjoy life! Frankly Sheila, I am doing fucking great!
I truly know exactly what you are going through. My dad passed in June and my mother passed in August. Handling the estate is hard and sometimes cathartic at the same time. Lots of good memories when sorting stuff out.
These are the times you must take care of yourself and be good to yourself.
Even though it was difficult taking care of them until they passed, I will always be grateful that I had them for so long.
Indulge in all things creative, yes, yes, yes. I get what you are saying.
Re: A box of rocks...
I left that part of this in because that's what caught my attention...then the rest held it... Just wanted to thank you for sharing that with us.
And wanted to share this with you...
Oh and maybe the box of rocks was to be a reminder to always strive to be smarter than a box of rocks or some such thing
Hi Daisy. Thanks for your post. I am so sorry for your losses. Warm hugs to you.
Yes exactly, at times it is cathartic and other times I am swamped with memories - some good, some bad. It has been like all these pieces of the big jig saw of my life have come swirling into view and I get to - finally - put it all together and, then, let it go.
There is quite a large amount of angst in my family. The family is dripping in mythology which upon closer inspection, doesn't quite match the obvious or the facts. Being in scientology for so long, and then deprogramming myself, gives me a birds-eye view of how dysfunctional control/power systems "spin".
I jokingly say to a family member "this family is so like a cult at times! And yes! I am qualified to say that!" I am often not popular for de-masking the myths. I am very very careful to never ever shatter someone's delusions though. Some things are best left remaining as secrets. I never thought I would think that but when someone is fragile, and has lived their whole life viewing something a certain way, it is beyond cruel to forcefully shatter that.
It seems to me that many family's, like cults, have secrets. I've spent a lot of time trying to make sense of the path I have walked. I've cried a lot of tears during that exploration. I've felt a lot of anger towards those that lack conscience. From the challenges and the dark stuff, comes pure opportunity.
Again, my condolences Daisy. I'll think of you as I continue to sort out mums stuff.