And in the final curtain call is the Council actually the old, worn, frazzled Wizard of Oz hiding behind the curtain, frantic that he has been exposed and defrocked of his power? Those in search of Oz — Dorothy finding her home and family, the Cowardly Lion finding courage, and the Tin Man finding his brain — these were the ones who were strong in the end, not the one pulling the strings!
In truth I believe we are all one, and together we can find the answer, if we choose …Let that answer be guided by love.
"I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision."
"To this end was I born, and for this cause I came to you, that I should witness to the Truth."
"You shall know the Truth and the Truth will set you free."
"For the Son of man has not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them."
"For I have come that they shall have life, and that they might have it more abundantly."
"I am not alone, because the Father is with Me."
"1 and the Father are one."
"For you were called to freedom, brethren; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love be servants of one another. For the whole of the law if fu flied in one word, You shall love your neighbor as yourself."
Chapter Thirty-eight: A Mother and Grandmother’s Sorrow
A GRANDMOTHER'S SORROW: SUE'S MOM
My husband was a welder and when we were first married he worked at the shipyards where he got hurt. One night, while working in the dark, he ran into a steel plate, hit his head, and was knocked unconscious. He sustained serious neck injuries and six months later his neck became very painful and shook uncontrollably. The diagnosis was torticollis of the neck. He was in so much pain that he would try anything the doctors suggested; such as shock treatments, being injected with typhoid fever, endless experimental drugs, brain surgery and many other medical interventions.
When he was 45 years old he was told by a doctor that he only had five years to live. He wanted to be sure his young family would be taken care of so he bought all the life insurance he could get.
In the meantime, he quit the shipyards and opened his own welding shop. My youngest son loved welding and became very good at it. My oldest son went to college and graduated as a geologist. Eventually, though, they both worked at the welding shop. They fought constantly. It was driving my husband nuts. He got up one morning and was acting like a crazy man. He said he was going to the shop and fire one of them, he didn't know which. I was scared and devastated. I begged and pleaded with him but I could not reason with him. He came home later and told me he had fired the older son. I was surprised that he hadn't fired the youngest son. He had always nagged him and verbally abused him.
A few weeks later my husband asked me for a tape recorder. He said he wanted to make a tape for his oldest son. I helped him get it ready and left the room. A short time later when I looked in on him, he was holding the tape recorder and crying. Later, I found out he had said that he had to fire the oldest boy because the younger son held something over him. The older son asked if it was business and my husband said, "No, personal."
Our son asked, "What was it Pop, did you have an affair?"
"Much worse," my husband answered.
Years later, he went to his deathbed carrying the secret. The thought that it might be incest, child pornography or any of these other horrors never crossed my mind.
My two sons are estranged. I've tried many times since 1974 to talk to my sons, to get them to at least talk to one another, but to no avail. The younger boy was willing but the older one said, "No way." It hurt me so bad for so long I thought I would go crazy. One night I said to God in my prayers, "God, I can't handle this, you take over."
In 1967, my husband had brain surgery to stop the pain and shaking in his neck. They went down through the brain to sever the nerves that were causing the pain. It helped but he was in the hospital for a long time.
A few years later he had a heart attack and finally had open-heart surgery. There were complications. During the surgery he went without oxygen for four minutes. They said because he had brain surgery, his brain became swollen and he had edema of the brain. He was coma-like for 12 days. When he came out of it he was like a vegetable, didn't know any of us. He was helpless, couldn't feed himself, go to the bathroom or walk. After months of physical therapy he was able to walk and could pick up food with his hand. His memory was partially blocked. This deficit impaired his whole left side. He never regained all of his memory. I took him home and took care of him.
My daughter stopped by one day, which was not unusual, as she lived down the street. She asked if she could talk to me. She said she had something to tell me so we went outside and sat on the swing in the back yard. She told me her father had sexually abused her. I was shocked, stunned, sad, and couldn't believe what I was hearing. She also said, "You and grandma also abused me."
I started crying and thought, "Where was I?" I had no memory of any of this happening. I finally said to her, "It's not that I don't believe you, it's just that I can't remember." But I was so naive when I got married right out of High School. I thought we were a normal, happy family and this accusation shocked me to the roots. I thought and thought but could not remember a thing. I do remember often saying when the kids were little that life seemed to good to be true.
Later she told me that I had abused all three of her children. I couldn't believe that I had done that, as I love those children like my own. I was heartsick and kept praying it was not true. She gave me a booklet from Los Angeles Women's Task Force on Ritual Abuse, and wouldn't let me see her children anymore. I could hardly function. I was heartsick, like in a trance.
As my daughter told me more about the abuse, I tried so hard to remember, but couldn't. In going over her allegations and remembering her childhood, I thought there were times the abuse could have happened. But she appeared to be a normal, happy little girl. She was such a good little girl, obedient, loving and just a little angel.
Sometime in the late 80's my daughter told me her father had sexually molested her from the time she was a baby. After Sue continued to tell me more, I began to believe her and that this really happened. I could hardly stand to look at my husband or take care of him any longer but he was a sick old, helpless man so I continued to care for him, every second hating him. But no matter what happened, he never complained.
Shortly after this she came to confront her father. She told him he had sexually abused her. He had a very hard, angry look as he looked at me and said, "Your daughter is crazy." She left and we didn't see her for a very long time. I would call but she wouldn't answer the phone or talk to me.
My husband continued to be a very sick man and had to be taken care of. From then on, I only spoke to him when I had to. To think he had abused our daughter made me hate him. I had loved him for over 50 years. Now I couldn't even let him touch me at night. If he happened to put his leg or arm across me, I'd kick him.
After my daughter's two accidents that both happened on April 12th, two years apart, my daughter disappeared. I didn't know where she was. I was so afraid for her. She had not spoken to me for many months. It was like losing my arm. We were, I thought, so close and now she wanted nothing to do with me. I felt like it was a dream or a terrible nightmare that I'd wake up from in the morning and it wouldn't be true. I was so worried about her. Without talking and praying to God, I never would have gotten through that separation from her.