Day 5 of 365

Well it is clear I skipped a few days.  Seems my scribe has been too busy starting her business and writing two other blogs so I’ve jumped from day 2 to 5 in a blink.  Of course time slipping by is not unusual. I wrote a little about that a while back so if you’re curious check out Time and Life (

My mind has been flooded with memories and emotions; some dating back 70 years. Imagine having memories that are 70 years old? Well, more on that later. The best way I know to ‘finish’ up is to write. To tell you the stories I started and never quite finished and to share with you those 70 years of memories.  Of course that requires some help and I’m sure you will be able to provide a little as we get to know each other.

Freedome Ride Core Button

What is today’s story? It’s 1960 or 1961 and I’m at home cooking dinner with the family. I was married to a handsome man with three kids and I had one, my daughter. It was about 7:30 pm and I asked the girls to upstairs and get ready for bed.

In those days you told your kids to do something and they did it. I’ve noticed these days, not so much.

A little while later, my husband, who was on his 3rd or 4th beer stood up and ran upstairs. He was furious because the girls (age 7) were playing and not sleeping. I never had a chance to stop him. The next thing I hear is screaming and crying. He had lost control and started hitting them. I was so angry, so scared I couldn’t move. I couldn’t walk upstairs and I couldn’t let him continue.

I was 29 or 30 yrs old, weighing all of 110 lbs. I picked up a solid oak dining chair and threw it into the wall; it stuck. Then I took the pot of spaghetti and threw it all over kitchen. Salad too. It’s funny now.

Not sure what happened next but somehow I was upstairs and grabbed my daughter and ran out of the house. We hid under the back porch for a good while. Then quietly got in the car, put it neutral and let it coast down the driveway and street. (glad we lived on an incline). As we drove off my daughter asked me “mom where are we going?”

You are going to live with your Aunt and I am going to live with God! I replied.  “Mom, I want to go with you.”


Photo: Jeffrey Moussa

Moral of the story? There is nothing in this world that you can’t change; your heart, your mind, your habits. It will be hard and you may cry a lot, but at the end of your time when you look back, you will be able to laugh a little. More importantly, you will be able to share those lessons with thousands of people.

Wishing you enough…


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