The Truth

Isn't it amazing that a simple word like truth can be distorted so many ways to meet any one's agenda. The online website, www.thesaurus.com gives these synonyms for the word truth: 

accuracy, actuality, authenticity, axiom, case,certainty, correctness, dope*, exactitude,exactness, fact, facts, factualism, factuality,factualness, genuineness, gospel truth, gospel,honest truth, infallibility, inside track, legitimacy,maxim, naked truth, nitty-gritty, perfection,picture, plain talk, precision, principle, rectitude,rightness, scoop, score, trueness, truism,truthfulness, unvarnished truth, veracity,verisimilitude, verity, whole story And they also add these in for "related words" :  particular, sound, accurate, actual, apodictic,as good as one's word, authentic, bona fide,candid, categorically true, certain, constant,correct, curious, definite, delicate, exact,faithful, fine, frank, genuine, guileless, honest, inits true colors, ingenuous, just, legitimate,literal, mathematical, natural, nice, official,open, open, ostensible, outspoken, precise,punctual, pure, real, realistic, religiously exact,right, rigid, rigorous, scientific, scrupulous,simple, solid, sterling, straightforward, strict,substantial, substantially true, tangible, true,true, true as gospel, true to the letter,trustworthy, truthful, unadulterated,unaffected, uncolored, unconfuted, undisguised,undissembling, undistorted, unerring,unexaggerated, unfeigned, unflattering, unideal,unimagined, unimpeachable, unperjured,unrefuted, unreserved, unromantic,unsophisticated, unvarnished, valid, veracious,veridical, veritable, well, well

 Now these are interesting words to be sure, however, I find that even with the qualifier "the" put in front of it someone can and will try to swing this absolute towards their way of thinking and rationalize these words to the point that they are almost unrecognizable. In case you couldn't tell by now you should know I been a political junkie for the past few weeks during my recovery and "adjustment" to the new me. I am a fan of Fox News and have been watching a great deal regarding the up coming election. I have been so disgusted, angry, downhearted, encouraged and amazed at how our Government works these days, especially when it comes to the election process of choosing leadership for our country's people.

One of the words you do not hear, or at least rarely hear is the word "liar". It seems most pundits, journalist's (and I use the term loosely)the"elite" media in general along with the elected politicians shy away from using the term "lie" or "liar". They use terms like "disingenuous" or "misspoke".
Here are some synonyms for the word lie found in www.dictionary.com:

aspersion, backbiting, calumniation, calumny,deceit, deception, defamation, detraction,dishonesty, disinformation, distortion, evasion,fable, fabrication, falsehood, falseness,falsification, falsity, fib, fiction, forgery,fraudulence, guile, hyperbole, inaccuracy,invention, libel, mendacity, misrepresentation,misstatement, myth, obloquy, perjury,prevarication, revilement, reviling, slander,subterfuge, tale, tall story, vilification, white lie,whopper.

I continue to find myself shaking my head when I listen to politicians describing someones lie as an "inaccuracy" or "fabrication". I can't understand why they can't simply say that this person is lying. Some actually do and that amazes me because in the heat of the political system as it stands right now, every word is parsed to the endth degree and scrutinized till it bleeds. And apparently jobs can be lost over misuse of this very simple word.

 Now here is an opportunity for me to use the words "the truth" in designating myself as the "new me" because I am a different man, and I choose to use the word "new" to describe me because I have never been in this situation in my life nor has my life been so dramatically changed transforming me, in many more ways than just physical, into the "new" me. And I am finding it increasingly more necessary to be truthful with myself regarding all aspects of my life, even those I do not wish to address right now. It seems that when you are dealing with issues that have been carried around for long periods of time our initial responses may be to just "let sleeping dogs lie". I wish I could do this because it would be a lot easier.

Telling the truth is not hard for most people I know. In fact, we expect for our friends and family to be honest with us because we have established a trust and the foundation of that relationship is truth. So it should be with ourselves. I know in my life I have been a wonderful rationalizer. I rationalize  almost anything within reason. I mean when it came to a plain black and white issue I would be honest, even though I was sure I could rationalize it the other way if necessary. The problem with this talent, or curse is that a rationalization is a rational-lie. It is a lie dressed up in it's finest church outfit. Just bathed and smelling like a rose. But still it is a lie. A foul smelling, rotting, disgusting lie.

When Shelley and I worked at the children's home we came across this issue quite often. Most of the girls in our care came from homes where lying was the norm. Apparently denial was more comfortable for parents so they could rationalize their innocence in "not knowing" what had been going on. Regardless a lie is a lie is a lie, and until you learn that you cannot fully embrace the truth. Not A truth or MY truth or even YOUR truth, but THE TRUTH. There is a big difference. What we perceive as truth may not be the absolute that the creator God has established as the Truth.

Shelley and I have made this a very big issue in our home. Perhaps it is because of all the lies that we were told by children we loved and with whom we had invested our lives. It was extremely painful to experience the dissolution of a trust that we believed had been established. And because our children are adopted we wanted to make sure that there was NEVER any reason for them to believe that we lied to them or ever would lie to them. That's why we don't do the "Santa" thing or "Easter Bunny" or "Tooth Fairy". Look, our kids get enough fantasy in this world without really trying. I am certainly not going to be someone who adds to the confusion that the world is so good at displaying.

SO the issue of truth is one that anyone who has had a weight issue must be willing to address in order to be successful. Actually anyone who has a problem with any addiction or compulsion must come to a point and realize the necessity  or honesty with oneself. This is currently where I stand. Perhaps this is where you stand also. I know that being boldly honest with ourselves is very difficult. But so necessary, if we want to change. And experience REAL change. Not just superficial. I realize that when I made the choice to have this surgery that it was going to change my life forever. And WOW it has already.

Not just that I have lost weight and clothes fit better but that I feel different. I feel different about myself, my emotional makeup, my home, my wife, my children. Everyone is affected by this choice I have made. I do believe that honestly they are all just a little confused and a little apprehensive about the immediate future. But I am finding out that this is alright. Probably quite common in people who have gone through this process. I understand that I must be the most aware of this and guard my words and actions carefully because I am being watched, even when I don't know it.

Ah, the "new me". I am finding that I want the new me and that I have wanted it for a long time. Romans 12:2 states this:

 "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."

I just love it when you find in God's word just the right scripture that speaks to your heart and encourages us. Renewing of our minds. That is a big part of the new me. I want to renew my mind, and in order to do that and do it well it involves diving into God's word on a more regular basis. Not just going for a dip but swimming around in it. Studying it. Learning the TRUTH it contains and applying that TRUTH daily. AND sharing it with our friends and loved ones.

Well, I know I have babbled a lot about truth but I can't think of anything more important in life right now than truth. Oh yeah, and seeing as Jesus called himself "the truth" then it's kind of like getting a twofer! I just love it when a plan comes together!!

Thanks to all of you who continue to keep us in your prayers. I know I need them and have appreciated them so. My body is adjusting to living and functioning on less but quality less. Sometimes it is hard just to figure out what to eat. That used to NEVER be a problem unless we didn't have any money, then of course it was the dollar menu at Micky D's. And I currently weigh 438 as of this evening. Down 33 pounds in four weeks. Not bad. And 126 pounds from my all time high of 564. I look forward to seeing what God has in store for the new me and my wonderful family. Once again, thank you!! And take care of yourself. I need an audience!!

The Desert of My Days

Greetings to all who venture hereabouts. It has been 10 days since my last confession. Sometimes I feel as though this blog is like my confessional. I get to tell you things about me and my thoughts on various aspects of life, more specifically my life and I hope it benefits more than just me. Although I guess the real reason for writing this blog is because I want to tell my story. Perhaps so that others will be inspired, or maybe I just want others to feel for me. Now the marrow is in what you feel. Do you feel the sadness, the excitement, the anticipation, the boredom that I do? Within the course of ten minutes I can feel all of these emotions and more. Just as you can and probably do. My problem is that I no longer can do with these emotions what I used to do. Share them with my best buddy food.

When you go through this process of having your insides "reworked" (for lack of a better word), there is so much more attached to the process than just losing weight and perhaps improving some health issues. When you are someone like me whose life has been so closely connected with food in a different way than most people, that abrupt change can have unexpected results. One day I am living life, eating food that I desired, not overeating mind you, just living and eating like I see the rest of the world eat. Then the next day, well not literally because I had to go on a pretty serious pre-operative diet that made cardboard appealing, my life has changed forever because  I allowed a surgeon to go into my body and change it. Was it the best decision of my life? Well of course no. Jesus was the best decision. My wife second. My children third. But in truth I cannot answer yet about this decision.

A lot of the people who have undergone this surgery and have experienced a whole lot more than I have, have told me that they do not regret having undergone this change. They even wish they had done it sooner. I hope that one day I am able to say that. I know that I am feeling new things every day. Physically I am still sore at the main incision area. I get nauseated if I drink water to quickly or too much at once. I have not enjoyed food but a few times since I began eating again. It is really a struggle to changing a lifelong habit of eating a certain way and then being forced to learn to eat another. But this is why I chose this path. I needed something that would force me into action that would help me. I had run out of options. I had looked at wonderful programs that I had tried before and lost weight and felt so good and healthy but could not keep on the new way of eating to save my life. Literally. The "Eat to Live" plan by Dr. Joel Furhman is a great program and one that I tried and wish that I could have stayed on it. The "Hallelujah Diet" probably saved my life years ago by making us aware of the good and bad things attached with various foods. But I could not stay on it. The temptation to eat foods that had been lifelong "comfort foods" was too great and although I truly desired to be victorious....I failed. The thorn in my flesh, the weakness that I needed to reveal God's grace and it's sufficiency for me would lead me to the gastric bypass.

I must tell you that it has not been easy. Of course I am only three weeks out from my surgery. Still a babe in the woods so to speak. Trying to get in my protein and 100 ounces of liquid a day and my vitamins is not easy. Also the emotional aspect is so so so big, so saddening, so depressing and yet so needed in my life. I  feel like the song that one of my favorite singers sang on one of his albums. Larnelle Harris has long been an inspiration to me because of his vocal talent and his love for the Lord. This song speaks to the issues concerning food that I am facing now. Perhaps it may speak to you regarding some "desert" in your life.

The "Desert of My Days" is a very thought provoking song. The lyrics speak right to the heart of so many issues in our lives. For me, my desert is wandering and wondering how I will learn to deal with the absence of my "food comfort" because I can no longer have that to "help" me cope with life. This is a pretty hard shot in the arm for someone who must partake of food on a daily basis in order to live. And not only that but has to deal with food in a very different manner than before. You see if I were an alcoholic then I could just simply avoid the drug and stay sober. But as someone with an abnormal relationship to food I must address the issues related to that abnormality every day. Some days are good , some days are bad; but God is always there....in my desert. I know that this journey is something He will work out for good. Because I love Him and am called according to His purpose. And I won't be in the desert forever. But while I am here I am going to praise His name and all He has done for me.

Anyone out there who has undergone this surgery and reads this blog please feel free to write to me and tell me about your struggles and successes. I want to learn from others so that I might help others like myself in the future. I also welcome any comments and encouragement. I thank you for loving me and listening to my story. God bless you.

 Until next time!!

Choose LIFE!!!

"Today I have given you the choice between life and death, between blessings and curses. Now I call on heaven and earth to witness the choice you make. Oh, that you would choose life, so that you and your descendants might live!" Deuteronomy 30:19

What an appropriate scripture that applies to my life as the choice I have made by having this surgery has given me the chance at more life that I would surely not have had if I had not chosen to go this direction. Is it the perfect direction? Will it take a lot of work and patience and learning and faith and trust in God. Of course it will. But it is a blessing as I am already discovering in my own life as well as those who have lived it out themselves.

We all struggle with something in our lives. Some of us are in battles that no one is even aware is going on. So much quiet desperation in the eyes of people I see these days. I have a sense that they are without a defined hope for their lives. They want to be happy. They look for things or people or events to make them happy... just so they can live their lives from day to day... with something to look forward to.

I consider myself one of these people, living lives of quiet desperation of which he author Henry David Thoreau described. And this should not be.Especially for someone who knows the Creator of all things on a personal basis. As a born again Christian I expect more of myself than to allow the world to determine my "feelings" on any given day. But alas I am only human and find myself just like a bottle in the sea being tossed about. However, I do not despair because of this. I thank God for the realization of my condition and ask His assistance in helping me to change it. And He does so with complete grace and mercy.

Present Day Update

First of all, I would like to say thank you to everyone who has so thoughtfully responded to my posts and this blog. I can't tell you how your comments have touched my heart and given me confidence in this struggle. God is so good, all the time and has blessed me with wonderful family and friends. I love you and thank you.

This post is a break from the emotional exercise of writing "my story" so that everyone can understand what I  will be doing in the next several days. I have stated before that this decision to have the bypass surgery was not taken lightly but through prayer and supplication with thanksgiving I made my request to God. And as He promised the peace that passes understanding is mine. I long for the new phase of my life to begin. This fat body that I have carried around so long has been a prison that I would not wish upon anyone. I hurt when I see others that have the same handicap from which I suffer. There is an unspoken acknowledgment between us because we know that we both battle the same evil.

Let me make myself perfectly clear on one thing that I may not have stated earlier. I take full responsibility for the condition that I am in. I have been the one who put every bite into my mouth. I have been the one who has eaten when I was not hungry but wanted to drown some sorrow or celebrate some victory. It is true that I have many reasons for the situation in which I now live, but no one living or dead is responsible for who I have become, but me. I don't wish to paint a picture of poor pitiful David who was abused and had no way out of his sad existence. This blog is a personal emotional regurgitation of years of suppressed and denied feelings that I want to share with others. It is my desire that anyone who reads these words of mine will be blessed by what they read. Perhaps giving you license in your own life to get rid of some of the baggage that has held you captive for so long. 

However, I will fail miserably at this desire if you do not leave from this experience knowing that I serve a loving and wonderful Savior namely Jesus Christ. Who through His grace and mercy has seen fit to allow me to continue to draw breath and press on towards the calling to which we are all given. I wish to bring Him glory. I must let you know that I am only here today because of His love for me and because I have further work to do for His kingdom. And I pray that anyone who is a Born again believer in Him recognize their opportunity also. We all have a story. You never know who will be touched by yours.

OK, so enough on the soap box. I go under the knife Monday morning around 7:00am. I have to be at the hospital at 5:30am for some pre-op stuff and I am first in the OR so I am imagining that as you have your first cup of coffee I will be in dream land as they cut my stomach into a little pouch and reconnect it to my intestine after they "bypass" about 10 feet or so. Please remember to pray for my wife and children. Shelley is having a tough time with me having this surgery. So much so that she is having dreams of me dying on the table. I know this is an attack from Satan because he does not want me to be a smaller version but we know that God is in control and His is the victory already!!!!

I should be in the hospital for around two to three days and then home, where I will begin my new life of making sure I get the nutrition my body requires every day. Please pray that I will master the art of the sip versus the gulp. I know I will get it all eventually and I look forward to sharing all the experiences with you here in escape from "Fat-catraz", yeah I know a little weird title but original!! Kind of like me...a little weird, but definitely original.

I am looking at the clock and seeing that it is 4:48am and I need to try to get some sleep so I will close here and let you know that I covet your prayers and appreciate all you have done to encourage and lift me and my family up before our awesome God. I of course will not be here for a while, I will be enjoying my pain medication and "fussing over" at the hospital. (Julie Sawyer I sure do wish you were going to be my nurse!!)

Please take care of yourselves and each other. If you don't then who will read all this mess? 

Life in the "Fat" Lane

So perhaps you have a more or less vivid picture of my early life. I should make the important note here that regardless of the sad experiences in my early childhood that would affect the rest of my life, I grew up knowing I was unconditionally loved in a family that was far from perfect.

 My mother probably over loved me, if there is such a thing. She would smile at me sometimes and my heart would just sing and I would smile right back at her. After all, my sister and I had become her reason for living. Her reason for putting up with my father for so long. Her love was never doubted for an instant by me. She loved me as much as she could, not just with things, or financial help, but with emotional issues as well.

My mother had a great deal to say about my growing up. She decided after my father died that she would take me and my sister down to the country (about 50 miles outside of Columbia, SC) where she grew up. She asked her mother, who was a widower and lived alone, and had a nice sized farm house if we could come and live with her. Her mother said no. I can't even imagine what that must have felt like when the one person in the world you believe you can count on, lets you down. I talked with my mom about that much later in our lives and she shared that it turned out for the best but at the time it was devastating to her. We were just kids and had no idea. She never let us know about it, she never acted hurt in front of us. She never disparaged our grandmother other than to tell us to "please don't let me get like that when I get old". We understood somewhat because Myra could certainly cause a stir when she wanted to.


It was really a hard decision my mother had to make so that Beth and I would grow up in a good home with nice things and be secure. She knew she wasn't able to supply all we needed on her nurses salary alone so she made the best decision she could. She was asked by my father's parents if we would like to live with them for a while. The truth is, we had been living with them for a while already, even when my father was killed. So it wasn't unusual for Beth and me to want to stay somewhere that was familiar and somewhat stable and secure. I worshiped my Grandad and Grandma and it was a great set up as far as I could tell. Of course I was just a kid and unaware of ALL the politics, personal attitudes, privacy issues, and probably most difficult to swallow, co- parenting.

You see, you have to remember, my sister and I were blood kin, but my mother was not. We had a special connection to their son but my mother was just the foolish woman who should have never married the alcoholic in the first place. I know, kind of hard to swallow. Imagine what my mother felt like. She had to "suck hind tit" for a long time while living at 515 Sunset Drive. If you are unfamiliar with the term of sucking hind tit, just watch a bunch of puppies nursing on their mothers tits. They certainly all don't go for the one closest to her butt, ie. "hind tit".


Our grandparents had very determined ideas of how children should be raised and how they should act. For the most part my mother was in agreement with them but there were times when they would over step their bounds and mama would just have to listen and take it so as not to upset the equilibrium of the home.  A lot of these issues had to do with my sister and her dating. And sometimes my gaining weight. My mother would swallow the pill down hard and help me to do the same with a great big old fried chicken leg. AND some homemade biscuits and maybe a little mac and cheese, you get the picture. We all have coping mechanisms and this is one that I learned rather well. After all, we are talking about two grown women living under the same roof. Just like the lady who backed into the fan...eventually- disaster.

There are always stories in families closets that no one is supposed to ever address or talk about regardless of who is getting hurt. Those people were me and my sister. We early on started picking up on the "remarks" that were made by my grandmother about my mother. Not in an "in your face" kind of way but a sly southern style gentile way only my grandmother could do. Making sure you could never really call her on it because she had left enough wiggle room for escape should the escape be necessary. So many comments that were intended to be heard by my mother (who I worshiped and thought could do no wrong) by my grandmother of which I also thought very highly.

These would sometimes result in full out fights between my grandmother and my mother with each of them angrily yelling at each other and Beth and me crying and begging them to stop. It wasn't very often mind you but the message was always loud and clear. We were reminded that we were "guests" in this home and we needed to remember that.

I tell you all of this so you can see the need for a young boy to find more and more comfort in food. And once again my mother was the best of cooks. I can't really do her justice with words it was just something that if you were blessed to have experienced it then you know what I mean. She cooked and we ate. She put on weight and I put on weight. Beth was discovered to have been found under a rock shortly after her birth so she didn't have the genetic predisposition that my mother and I shared to put on the weight and keep it on. We loved food and had that love in common. My foundation for the fat battle of my life was finding a strong place in which to sink it's roots to make sure the fat would be in place for a long long time to come.
Amazing how something that you have to do, such as eating, can be so enjoyable and lead to a road of sadness and destruction.

I still don't understand how my sister kept from having a weight problem. Other than the fact that she chews each bite about 194 times until it has digested mostly in her mouth. Furthermore, the bite that she has taken must be exactly formulated to match every other bite on her plate. Perhaps this was her way of handling the stress in her life. She may have battled 5 or 10 pounds but nothing like the hundreds of pounds my mother and I had accumulated. She must have gotten more genes from my dad because he never had a weight issue either. Go figure, although I have never seen a really fat alcoholic, have you?

Life at "Rose Manor" as my grandmother had named it was a pretty great experience as I remember, not taking into account that I was losing my battle with food. I mean I wasn't terribly fat but sure was a lot fatter than any of my friends. And thankfully I had a good number of friends. I had lots of good relationships from our church youth group that I loved dearly. But school was the exact opposite. Although having an above average IQ I struggled in school because I was embarrassed so much of the time because of being fat.

Fat is the last acceptable prejudice that is still politically correct. My friends at church were Christians and the love of God was in them and they saw beyond a fat kid and allowed my true nature to shine. I had a good sense of humor, was fun to be around, I was smart and gave good advice. So my friends at church would have been astounded to see timid David hardly talking to anyone, walking alone down the halls and sitting alone at lunch, when I ate lunch.

I could not comfortably sit in the seats at school. It was so embarrassing. Experiencing puberty was bad enough but being a fat kid along with that was well, can I just say "Hell". I would not repeat that time in my life again for anything.

(to be continued)

A Prison of My Own Making

Greetings family, friends or just "passers by". My name is David Swindler (by name and not character) and this is the beginning journal of my escape from "Fat-catraz". You are welcome to come on my journey and find out what it has been like and what it will be like as I change my body with the help of surgery so that I might escape from the prison I have lived in for so long.

Truly being morbidly obese is like living in a prison.That is the reason for the play on words in the title of this blog. I believe that I am embarking on a journey that will help me to escape from the prison of fat that I have lived in for a great portion of my life. Living in a body that does not want to cooperate and restricts a person from fully enjoying life is a place of destitution and depression. God certainly does not want this for me so why am I being a willing accomplice in my own destruction? I am choosing not to be any longer.

The path that I am choosing is not an easy one. In fact it is probably more difficult than any diet plan or exercise plan I have ever attempted. It requires changing one's lifestyle...for the rest of their life. This is not a diet that you can cheat on and go back to eating any way you want if you get bored. This is a physical restriction of the amount that you can consume and the absorption of the daily nutrients and vitamins your body requires to live. Many people with which I have discussed this surgery have told me that the hardest part is remembering to eat and making sure that your body gets all the nutrition it needs.

Now my mind quickly goes to my roommate from years ago. God love him, he was a very thin young man. He was a handsome man but was convinced that he needed to gain weight in order to feel better about himself. His problem was that he would forget to eat. WHAT?!!!! Forget to eat???? I could not and cannot relate to that at all. Where as he had a metabolism that would digest his food before he ate it, I had one that would digest my meal over a three week period after it had sucked every last ounce of vitamin, protein, fat and whatever else it could. I loved him (still do) and he loved me. And we both felt sad for each other, but given the choice of which predicament in which to be, I would choose his.



I don't believe that anyone really chooses to be fat. At least not at the beginning of their life, or at the beginning of their weight gain. I know I didn't ever want to be fat. I was a fairly normal sized little boy at the age of three. In fact I have pictures that show me as such. But then something horrible and unbelievable and just terribly sad happened to that little three year old boy. A neighbor who would baby sit my sister and me chose to steal my innocence away because he needed some sexual gratification that abusing me would give him. I don't remember this man being mean or violent, I just remember that it didn't feel very good and I didn't like it. Sodomy is not something a three year old should ever have to experience. It was after this time that I started to find some comfort in food. It became a friend that would not hurt me. Something I could enjoy and no one would stop me, after all I was a growing boy.Thank God we did not stay in that place very long and my abuse did not last but for three months. Regardless, it had a life altering effect on that little boy who was me.


When I was just a little older around 4 or 5, I was subjected to another abuse by a family member who had been abused herself. She was only about 5 years older than me but knew too much from a sexuality standpoint for anyone at her young age. I loved her very much and trusted her and allowed her to lay on top of me naked and tell me that this is something that will help her to have a baby later on in life. Now that crap had to come out of the mouth of some sicko that had stolen her innocence and lied to her. She did not realize that this action would have life altering effects on me...but it did.

At about the age of 6 the chubby little boy emerged. The fat had become a way of comfort and perhaps staving off anyone who had the desire to use me for their pleasure. You might be asking yourself where my parents were during all of this. Good question. My father was an alcoholic who would be absent from our family for weeks at a time while he was on a drinking binge. Then he would come home and stay sober and fight his demons of alcoholism and love us and try to be a good father...until it was too much for him ad he would disappear for a few more weeks. I would always miss him terribly. My Mother was the glue that held our family together. She was a nurse and a good one at that. She worked to pay our bills and keep us fed and whatever all mother's do, she was doing it in spades. She loved me and my sister and my father greatly and put up with his drinking and disappearing....but she was growing tired.


The last time I saw my father alive was when he had come home (well it was my Grandparent's home that they shared with us) to get a few things, perhaps some money but he could not stay. My Grandmother would not let him stay in the house if he had been drinking. She always viewed his alcoholism as a weakness not a disease and it was easier for her not to be around it so she would kick her own first born son out into the world rather than let us try to get him some help. Don't get me wrong, she and my Grandad tried for many years to help him but to no avail. I remember having a conversation with him while he was in the bathroom on the toilet and I was just outside the door sitting on the landing of the staircase going upstairs. I remember asking him if I could go with him and crying. He would just tell me that I couldn't go but that he wouldn't be gone long and he would come home and get us all and we would move away into a home where we could all live together. I remember there were tears in his eyes as we said good bye. I was awakened early the next morning by my mother who took me into the bathroom and told me that my father was dead.

He had been killed while walking on the train tracks that led up to his brother's home about 10 miles outside of town. His blood alcohol level was .23, approaching unconsciousness. I am not too sure that he didn't just decide at the last minute not to move out of the way of that train. I do know that he believed strongly in Jesus and that I will see him again and hopefully soon.

My mother was a wonderful cook. She was known for her talent as a nurse and for her ability to cook. And she decided whether consciously or unconsciously to appease my needs by feeding me, and feeding me well. Not that she made me fat, she just didn't do a whole lot to stop it from happening. So I began the foundation of the prison that I would continue to build for my life.

(to be continued.)