I’m writing as a means to communicate as it has been my intent to try and rebuild the many relationships known with forgiveness and expressing love. After thinking about it, I realize that so much time has passed and with so many events, it will be best to relive those early years.

So, stepping back once more, the story continues…

The baby boy came home to 3 older sisters 12, 11, and 5 years. Like any family where a child with problems that require much attention, all were expected to join in and help with his needs. Mama spent her days (and nights) caring for the little one and sisters filled in as they could, before and after school. Dad worked and supported the families needs. After work, he spent much time with his son.

No one fully understood how the trauma of birth affected the little one. Mom and dad loved him just as he was. After many Dr. and hospital visits they began to understand but refused to believe anything but positive. Many times mom read aloud “The Little Engine That Could”, exhorting the mantra “I think I can, I think I can”. It was this teaching that would carry him over the years.

Many digestive issues, ear infections, hearing issues, allergies, eye problems, balance problems, seizures (head injury), and social issues when interacting with other children came along those first few years. So much pain, physically and mentally. Mom and dad were told the little boy would never be strong or big but they believed differently and encouraged him by telling him he would grow up to be Superman, his childhood hero. They played together and spent the days just enjoying each other. Slow to learn balance, he did eventually learn to ride a bike. Dad was amazing when caring for him. He would gently use warm water and cotton swabs to clean out his infected ears with great care and affection. He was always there when his son was hurting. There were the good times too, where the two of them went fishing, standing on the bank of a local creek. On warm summer days they played in the yard together. The little boy grew to love trains from the stories he heard mom read. Dad would drive him to the rail road station often to see the various trains he so loved.

Being different, the neighborhood kids could be cruel, both mentally and physically. His sister, the youngest of the three, was there, watching over him as they played in the neighborhood as best she could while in grade school. They became very close and played together, not only as young children but all through his early school years up until Junior high (middle school). His older sisters had left home to be married about the time he was attending early grade school, so were not around nearly as much, after starting their own families.

One of the last surgeries before he was seven involved having his eyes straightened in order to see better. This was the summer just before entering first grade and having successfully corrected his eyes, would be the last of physical trauma for a time.

So began public school, unaware what was to come, but God was watching…