A Model's Power

  A Model’s Power.   

Who do you admire most? An athlete? Actor or actress? Aunt or uncle? What aspect(s) of their personality would you wish to emulate? Why?

I hope the person you picked is real and not fictional. An actual person has achieved success in an area(s) that you value. It means that it is possible for you to do likewise. If that model is accessible, then you can ask for tips on how they acquired their skill(s) or trait(s). This strategy is a tactic used by many sports figures. Following in the steps of another successful person is easier than breaking a new trail. When the person being imitated knows of your efforts, they often not only willingly share their tips, but also are there to encourage you. A bonus! 

Over the past several decades I’ve come to know many people that I highly admire for one reason or another. It doesn’t mean that I have been able to duplicate their particular skill or trait––I still can’t hit the ball as far as my golfing buddy––but I have witnessed the value of their perseverance and passion in pursuing their goal. Perseverance and passion,  ingredients to success. Perseverance and passion once discovered within myself means success is also within my own grasp. It also means that I’m able to show the powerful effect that an admired grandmother has on her granddaughter in my novel, Baggage burdens.

The brief contact time that Jill had with Josey, her grandmother, was sufficient to create an impression that influenced Jill for the next thirty years. It eventually snapped her out of a depression and forced Jill to return to Ontario and face memories that warped her sense of self and others.  

By early August, Jill is very thankful for Josey’s rescuing deeds. They far exceed her wildest hopes. For the last five weeks, Jill has worked hard on her English course, which her grandmother arranged by enrolling her in a summer course in Brampton. Exams are finished. She aced that course. In celebration of her success, she claims the upper veranda deck at her grandmother’s redbrick house in Brampton for her private sun-tanning haven. Singing wind chimes that hang from the soffit at the end of the deck sooth her spirit. 

As her grandmother’s Santorini mobile souvenir comes into focus, she sees a light blue boat with white sails gliding in the late-morning breeze. Half a dozen glistening glass dolphins suspended from the bottom of the boat with an almost invisible tackle line dart about as if they’re playing in the sea. Eight silver, pencil-thin metal pipes dance around, ringing out their laughter like children on a summer beach. 

“Ah, heaven! I could stay here forever,” says Jill, reminiscing about her summer. Hearing her words of joy urges Jill to praise her grandmother next time she visits.

The review of her last two months leads Jill to appreciate her grandmother’s ability to do anything she sets her mind to. Neither her mother nor her father demonstrated that talent. 

IfI could only be like Gram. Someday, maybe.

“I phoned Bill. He told me Joseph left you. He wants nothing more to do with you. Your marriage is finished.”

Julie stops and hugs Jill. While still holding her close, she glances back to make sure the bedroom door is closed and the children aren’t near. Pointing to the bottle, she asks, “Jill, were you trying to end your life?” Julie can’t bring herself to say suicide, not to the aunt she loves and admires. 

Tears flow from Jill. A slow, weak no slips out.

Julie shakes her head. “Jill, you’ve got to get up, show some energy.”

Jill shakes her head slowly, making no attempt to control her body. She sinks heavily in Julie’s arms. “I can’t.”

Fear distorts Julie’s face. “I’ve got to snap her out of it,” mumbles Julie. “I’ve got to break my promise.” Julie looks at her limp aunt resting in her arms. She takes a deep breath. “Jill, do I have to call Josey for help?”

As if taking a whiff of smelling salts, Jill sits straight up. “What?” 

“You never heard that.” 

Sparked by fear that her grandmother might find out how badly she has failed, Jill swings her feet to the floor and looks directly at Julie. In a demanding tone, she fires, “What does my grandmother know about me?”

“Now you sound like my wonderful aunt,” responds Julie. Her compliment doesn’t distract Jill from her line of questioning. “You know your grandmother loves you.”

haiku capsule:

              imitating you,                                                                                        

                                more desirable model.                                                                          

                                My strength in hard times.

Next blog:  

Hope from Unexpected Sources.

The Devil , You Say

  TheDevilYou Say.  

Perhaps you have heard the devil made me  do it. Wimpy excuse you may think. A weak personality. Perhaps, but let’s give this appellant the benefit of the doubt for a few moments. 

Another’s money is within easy reach. No one is around to stop you or see that you are the culprit. You’ve gone to church. You know, thou shall not steal, but you take the money anyway. Now if the sticky-fingered-person happens to be a kid in the candy store who sees the store owner looking the other way and takes a couple of chocolate bars, you might be willing to take it easy on the little thief. Immature kid, you may rationalize. How about a late-teen thief, an almost-adult person? They know better. Where’s their black-and-white morality?

Maybe this questionable action is more than a theft-action. Maybe this person who is about to lose their money deserves to lose it. They’re the one who has caused someone a great deal of pain. Stealing their money is like punishment. 

Stealing their money is revenge. But you’ve gone to church. You know, vengeance is mine says the Lord.You take the money. At the moment, you feel a sense of justice. 

In the spiritual-worldview-battle, one can easily see that the person’s actions above are not following the will of God. God looks to bring reconciliation between him and His children and among His people. Creating peace on earth or heaven on earth involves people loving not harming each other. Seeing the devil’s tempting action suck someone into going against God’s will can be seen as a battle won by the devil. 

Would the devil strive for this? Of course. He wants to win. Even more, he wants another opportunity to foist his hell on his victim. The devil now has even more power over this susceptible person. Guilt can be used to convince this sinner that he or she is no good. They are a bad, even a despicable person. Enjoy a foretaste of hell you luckless body. 

Going too far? This is unreal? People have free will. Do they? Research has shown that some people’s body’s chemistry leaves them more susceptible to the effects of alcohol. In the first two steps for people in Alcoholics Anonymous, there’s an admission that one is powerless (over alcohol), and they believe in a power greater than themselves. 

In my novel, Baggage burdens., Jill is the teenage thief. Her motive was understandable revenge. She has gone to church. She knows she was wrong, but she buries that guilt. When her fury against Greg cools, she experiences fear. Greg  is a vengeful person. Her hell heats up. She leaves Ontario and moves to Alberta. Now Greg will never find me. Two years later her confidence is shaken. An Ontario detective is looking for her in Camrose, Alberta. The fire of fear forces her into another action she comes to regret––for a sense of safety she marries a man she doesn’t love. The time before, fear drove her to run away from her loving grandmother. Her guilt convinces her she’s a bad person, undeserving of love. It would seem the devil has won. He has made her his victim. She has a life of hell on earth.

When Jill lets go of Bill’s hand, he asks, “So what is bothering you about this Dave?”

The only thing Jill knows is that Dave is or should be angry with her. The moment she asks herself why, she sucks in a deep breath like someone hit her in the stomach. 

Three hundred dollars! I stole it! I stole it from Dave! From Dave and Greg! Greg! Oh no. 

“Okay. Now I know. I’ve touched a tender tooth. Out with it. You know there should be no secrets between the two of us. Whatever bothers you, bothers me. Together, we’ll handle the problem.” Bill puts his hand on either shoulder and turns Jill to completely face him.

With tears of embarrassment, she whispers, “I’m a thief.”

Bill draws her close to him and holds her until he feels she has quit crying. He eases his hold on her and waits for her to explain her remark. Her prolonged silence prompts him to ask, “What happened?”

As if picking at an old scab, Jill slowly reveals the least-threatening portion of her secret. “I stole three hundred dollars from Dave and his brother, Greg.” 

Jill waits for a reaction, as if she’s waiting to see some blood pour out from the edge of an opened scab. Hearing no hint of judgment from Bill, she continues, “They deserved it. It was a punishment.”

There is hope for Jill. It comes through her friend, Bill. He re-introduces her to Jesus, the one who accepts her and loves her no matter how undeserving she thinks she is. 

Jill’s words give Bill more reason to pause. “Have you addressed your prayers to Jesus?”

“What difference would that make?”

“Do you believe he died?”

“Yes.”

“So we can be forgiven and go to heaven?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that sound like he is loving, he is caring?”

Jill catches Bill’s emphasis on he. She crosses her arms in front, feeling exposed. Guessing that Bill has figured out that she doesn’t trust males in general. It’s more than she intends to reveal. Bill’s eyes focus on her. Remembering his question, she nods.

“So you could pray to Jesus?”

haiku capsule:

              a claim––not my fault,                                                                          

                                the devil made me do it.                                                                       

                                manipulated

Nextblog: A Model’s Power.   

A Tough Read.

  A Tough Read.   

Perhaps you have heard of the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the sons.That phrase derives from Biblical references (primarily in the books Exodus, Deuteronomy, and Numbers) to the sins (or iniquities) of one generation passing on to another. 

Why, you might wonder, are the children blamed and/or punished for the what the father did wrong. Before responding to that question, one might first think of sins as missing the mark when it comes to doing the right or loving thing. 

Children learn first and primarily from watching and experiencing what their parents do. So, if a father, who feels inadequate and thus threatened, chooses to exercise greater control to feel secure, then his children will do likewise. A puppeteer-father can be very critical, even belittling to his child to gain the upper hand. In doing so the father then creates an inferiority complex in his children. Now the child is set up to use the same defence mechanism that the father uses––establish firm control over others, an often unpleasant experience for the target-person. Once you have been under another’s self-serving thumb, how can you ever trust someone else?

That’s the issue that is explored in my novel, Baggage burdens. Jill’s father, Frank, exercised extensive control over her and her mother. That, Jill could still handle, but not the beatings she received when he came home drunk. His broken promises, not to hit her again, sealed her impression that people, that men in particular, could not be trusted.

A moment of silence follows as Frank catches his breath and looks around. His eyes fall on an opened catalogue on the kitchen table. It displays the latest graduation dress fashions. Jill has a little more than a year before junior high graduation, but she is already anticipating what she might wear and discussing the possibilities with her mother. 

Jill’s father takes a deep breath. “What the hell is this?” he demands, pointing to the page titled Graduation Gowns. 

“It’s nothing,” pleads Alice. 

“You’re damn right it’s nothing. We’re not going to waste any money on any foolish dress she’s only going to wear once.” He launches himself out of the chair and rushes at Alice, shoving her hard into the wall. 

Her head hits, starting a headache. It’ll last all night. 

He grabs her upper arms, leaving red marks. 

As he shakes her, she cries out, “Frank, you’re hurting me.” 

When she looks into his face, he blurts out, “You’re not going to buy anything like that. We can’t afford it. Do you hear me?” 

“Yes, yes,” Alice answers. 

Frank’s grip eases.

Jill’s life with her parents was so bad that she had to run away from home. But she had learned her lesson well. To feel safe, be in control. That’s what happened in her family. While she’s aware of her controlling tendency and she doesn’t want to be like her father, many times she can’t help it. It is part of who she is. As a result she creates frustration for her husband, Joseph, and her eldest son, Daniel. How can you love a character like that? How can you pull for her? That’s a tough read.

Jill hesitantly says, “I want to ask you something else.” 

The changed tone in Jill’s voice alerts Rebecca. Something important is coming. Jill turns silent as if she regrets what she just said.

“Listen, if you want to ask me something in confidence, consider it done.” 

Rebecca quits sipping her tea and slides her chair closer to Jill.

“Just between the two of us?”

“You’ve got it.”

“At the bakery, I had everything under control. I knew what I was doing. Now, sometimes I feel like I’m fumbling around in the dark,” begins Jill. “I have a problem. It’s not Joseph who has the problem. I have. And I’m not certain there’s an answer.” Jill continues to gather her thoughts. “You’ve been married for a long time. Things seem to work out so well between you and Thomas. I thought you might have some advice for me.” Again she’s silent. 

Rebecca reaches out and holds Jill’s hand. “Go ahead.”

Jill studies Rebecca for a moment. “Have you ever had sex with Thomas that was too rough?” 

“At times.” 

Rebecca’s answer comes so fast that Jill concludes this is normal.

“And it doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course. I’ve had to talk to Thomas about it.”

“And it worked?”

“It did. You might say I had to teach him to be more sensitive to how I felt.”

“You don’t think that was, well, controlling?”

“I was just giving him information. I knew he’d use it in the right way. He’s truly a loving man.”

“You see, I just don’t want to be a control freak. It frightens me. That’s what my father was. I don’t want to be like him.”

“Talking and sharing, especially sharing your feelings with your husband, works wonders. Really. It’s not controlling.” 

As Jill approaches Joseph, she watches him robotically grab sack after sack of potatoes and toss them into the wagon tightly against the last bag. He plods through loose, dry soil to Jill. 

“About a month ago, you brought up Daniel’s schooling.” 

Joseph speaks in a low, controlled monotone. She suspects leashed anger. At times her father sounded like that before he exploded. Jill nods in response to Joseph’s assertion. 

“I hear you tried to convince Daniel he should take his schooling at home with his sister after we talked. It scared him.” Joseph’s neck stretches forward as if he is preparing to snap at any objection before she can start it. “I told him I’d fix it with you so you wouldn’t bring it up again. We talked about it again last week. You agreed you wouldn’t say anything about it. Remember?”

She’d hoped Daniel might be more open to reconsidering. Still disturbed by Joseph’s aggressive tone, she nods.

“I told him the issue was settled. Not to worry. Then last night you hinted about it again. If he gets wind of it, he’ll be so upset. We’ll both lose his trust. I don’t expect to hear about Daniel and homeschooling ever again. Got it?”

Jill’s persistent efforts to gain control over her son by homeschooling him fail, but she does create a strong sense of distrust in her son’s mind and perhaps a dislike in the reader’s mind. Because of Daniel’s father’s defense and other loving actions, Daniel has an alternate model of behavior to follow. That breaks the sequence of a father’s sins being visited upon his sons. 

However, that still leaves Jill with trust issues and her need to be in control and thus frustrate those around her. What hope is there for her? Her husband’s loving actions, while appreciated, do little to solve Jill’s conviction that people cannot be trusted. 

Enter Bill, a retired psychologist, a family friend. Through his gentle probing questions, he exposes her underlining fear. His unquestionable caring record enables him to ask a critical question––you do trust me, don’t you? Now her hidden motivation is exposed. She’s forced to examine the legitimacy of trusting no one, the rule she learned from her father, to some extent her mother, from her school friend, and from a past-boyfriend. She is now beginning her first step on the road to healing. 

Sitting down, she says, “There are always things a parent needs to tell a child to do that they won’t like. Nothing could have had a lasting effect. A child should do what a parent tells them to. A parent knows best. Right?”

“Right,” says Bill confidently. “And Joseph would have supported you on that. So, was there anything about how to raise Daniel that you and Joseph disagreed on?”

“You know, it’s been so long ago. I doubt it will do any good.”

“Leave an issue unresolved, and you leave an open window for the devil to turn people against you.”

“I don’t know.” Reluctant to follow Bill’s idea, Jill shakes her head.

“It’s worth a try. Trust me.” Seeing Jill’s silence, he asks again, “You do trust me, don't you?”

Bill’s question opens a wound that Jill tries to ignore. My friend, the one I met in Chicago, the one I trusted, the one who sided with Joseph when Joseph said he wanted to divorce me.Jill recalls Joseph’s words, “Even Bill understands why I’m so frustrated with you.” How could he? And now he asks if I trust him? 

Her betrayal memory burns like hot coals. She looks at Bill, sitting, leaning back in his chair, always leaning back waiting. Waiting for an answer, like I’m having a session in his office. Why does he have to be so much like a counselor? 

Wrinkles cross Bill’s face. 

I’ve got to tell him something. If I tell him why I can’t trust him …The prospect of Bill leaving worries Jill. He’s been easy to share personal concerns with. That didn’t happen much with Joseph. 

Her decision to leave Bill’s skeleton in the closet is cut short by Bill’s earlier words: “What’s important is that Daniel can see that you’re trying, that you want to fix things up.”

The irony is that often those that feel the most need  for control, are the ones being controlled by their own fears, insecurities, and doubts.

haiku capsule:

              parent’s base lesson                                                                              

                                control others to feel safe                                                                     

                                a child’s warped bedrock

Nextblog: The Devil  You Say.  

When a Help-Offering Precedes a Request

When a Help-Offering Precedes a Request.   

Do you know someone so well that you feel safe in suggesting a helpful action before it is asked for?  Even if your idea is not what is wanted, you know no offence will be experienced. Let me be clear. The person making the offer is not acting out of boldness or ignorance. They just understand their friend or family member that well. 

Not very common you might think. You’re right, but what a blessing it is to have someone who is so well in tune with you. That’s the kind of relationship one hopes for between two lovers or between twins. Such a relationship you’d think is worth doing anything to keep.

In my novel, Baggage burdens. that is the connection that Josey has with her granddaughter, Jill. Josey has come to meet her granddaughter after years of separation. A couple months before completing her grade twelve year Jill has run away from home and needs a place to stay. Josey not only agrees to let her live in her house, but she also offers to try to salvage some of her courses from school to get her credits. Josey goes one step further by registering Jill in a summer course to be a step closer for Jill getting her diploma.

In the following passage the reader sees Jill’s gratitude.

By early August, Jill is very thankful for Josey’s rescuing deeds. They far exceed her wildest hopes. For the last five weeks, Jill has worked hard on her English course. Exams are finished. She aced that course. In celebration, she claims the upper veranda deck at her grandmother’s redbrick house in Brampton for her private sun-tanning haven. Singing wind chimes that hang from the soffit at the end of the deck sooth her spirit. 

As her grandmother’s Santorini mobile souvenir comes into focus, she sees a light blue boat with white sails gliding in the late-morning breeze. Half a dozen glistening glass dolphins suspended from the bottom of the boat with an almost invisible tackle line dart about as if they’re playing in the sea. Eight silver, pencil-thin metal pipes dance around, ringing out their laughter like children on a summer beach. 

 “Ah, heaven! I could stay here forever,” says Jill. Hearing her words of joy urges Jill to praise her grandmother next time she visits. 

Gram, you’re so wonderful. I thought my high school courses were lost. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure thankful you convinced my history and drama teachers to let me hand in my last three assignments. It was a lot of work to do in two weeks. I really couldn’t of handled any more. Now I’m free until September. It feels so good. 

The review of her last two months leads Jill to appreciate her grandmother’s ability to do anything she sets her mind to. Neither her mother nor her father demonstrated that talent. If I could only be like Gram. Someday, maybe.

Within three weeks Jill decides she must move away.

Imagine what terrible event causes this action.

 Imagine how great her distress.

“Any more questions?” Karen’s voice is calm. 

Jill shakes her head and stands up. 

Karen raises her voice a bit. “Good. Because I have a question.” Karen waits for Jill to sit down. “When do you plan to phone and tell your grandmother your plans?” 

Jill’s silent. 

“You are going to phone your grandmother, aren’t you?” Karen’s eyes narrow, piercing guilt. 

Again Jill waits, then shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “I’m not,” she announces firmly.

“But, Jill, you can’t leave your grandmother in the dark.” Karen leans forward. “Not after all that she has done for you.” 

 “I have no choice—” 

“But—” 

Karen’s objection is cut short.

“And you can’t tell her where I’ve gone either.” Jill hopes the firmness of her voice continues to secure Karen’s support.

“But why? You know your grandmother has your best interests at heart.”

haiku capsule:

              heavenly servant                                                                                   

                                knows the heart’s greatest wishes                                                       

                                dearest companion

Next blog:  A Tough Read.