I was born in Scottsboro to very loving, kind, and devoted parents. I was a momma’s girl and a daddy’s girl. My mother was a stay-at-home mom until I was in the fourth or fifth grade, so we spent a lot of time together. Anytime my dad was going anywhere, I always jumped at the opportunity to go with him. I loved hanging out with him no matter what we were doing. I would lay in his lap and he would rub/scratch my back for what seemed like hours. We would spend hours playing cards or fishing. Well, I mostly played Barbies under the hull of the boat, but I loved just being with him out on the lake.

 In 1984, I was a sophomore in high school living the life of a typical high school student. I danced, ballet and jazz, six days a week and was on the high school dance team. In November, we received the dreaded knock at the door. My dad was on his way home from Huntsville where he worked at Redstone Arsenal. He started throwing up profusely then passed out. Thankfully, he carpooled back and forth to work so one of the men quickly called the ambulance. The wife of one of the men that dad carpooled with came and knocked on our door to let us know what had happened. Mom and I rushed to the hospital in Huntsville. Initially, the doctors thought Dad  had a bleeding ulcer but discovered he had pancreatitis(explain what that is…. It’s essentially……). He was admitted to intensive care. Our family spent the next seven weeks at the hospital. Except for four days, he spent all that time in intensive care. He was intubated the majority of that time and had four surgeries. They did not even sew him up after each surgery; they would just pack the wound. The doctors kept going back in to try to clean out the infection. The pain was so intense they had a hard time controlling it. The amount of suffering he endured was so hard to witness. 

My family stayed at the hospital, sleeping in the waiting room most of the time. My sister and I got up every morning and would drive back to Scottsboro for her to go to work and I would go to school. In the afternoon, we would drive back to the hospital to spend the night. My brother was in college at the time but dropped out so he could stay with Mom at the hospital. Mom only left the hospital overnight a couple of times and slept on the sofas in the waiting room the rest of the time. That year, we spent Thanksgiving and Christmas at the hospital. The most important thing to us during this time was to all be together. 

During this time, our family had so many family and friends that came to sit with us in the waiting room, provide food, give us money, and supported us throughout these weeks. I had a cousin that lived in Huntsville that stayed by our side. Mom would go to her house each day to take a shower and change clothes. My cousin washed Mom’s clothes for her. Also, the hospital had some empty rooms set up with regular beds that they allowed people to rent who were from out of town. Family and friends rented the room for us several times during our stay so that we did not have to sleep in the waiting room. Even Dad’s primary doctor had a church member that brought us food, visited with us, and one family even offered to let us have a key to their house which was close to the hospital to come and go as we needed. We felt the love and prayers of many. 

Because my dad was on a ventilator, he was unable to talk to us but we still found ways to communicate. He had a clipboard and would write notes to the nurses and to us. I have those notes and cherish them today. He would write and say “in pain” or “I want to see my wife”. Dad and I would communicate by winking at each other. The last communication I remember was my dad opening his eyes and winking at me before he went completely unconscious. 

The doctor’s never determined the cause of my dad’s pancreatitis. After seven long weeks in the hospital, my dad passed just after the new year. The days that followed were some of the darkest days of my life. I went back to school and attempted to go back to ballet and dance. I had lost so much muscle mass after having missed for 7 weeks and I was so heartbroken that I just did not have it in me anymore to try to catch up. I spent the next couple of years hanging out with my mother. I was not myself. I feared leaving my mother’s side for fear something bad would happen to her. I did not attend any high school functions after that and really became somewhat of a recluse. After about two years, I just came out of the fog and was more like my old self. However, my dad’s death had forever changed me.

I do not remember feeling the Lord’s Presence during Dad’s illness and after Dad’s death, but now I see and know He was there with our family during that time. The Lord placed so many people in our life during that time that carried us through. The Lord often uses His people.  I believe we were just in survival mode and numb from the pain. Those are the times that the Lord carries you whether you realize it or not. Isaiah 46:4 says “ Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you”.

One of the greatest lessons I learned losing my dad at a young age is the importance of a dad. My love language is physical touch. My dad was fulfilling that need by letting me lay on his lap while he rubbed my back, and by hugging me and kissing me every night before bed. That affection filled up my love tank. After he was gone, my tank became empty over time. No one could fill it up like my dad had filled it up. My brother would leave me notes on my pillow at night and take me on dates but it was not the same. Unfortunately, after several years, I started to look for other guys to fulfill those needs and it was not always in healthy ways. I made some very poor choices in the search for someone to fulfill my love language. 

Today, my children have a great relationship with their dad. I have always encouraged Lionel to let Emily crawl in his lap for those hugs and back rubs no matter her age. If he does not do that she will start looking for it in unhealthy relationships with other guys. Lionel has done a great job carrying this out and they have a great relationship. She is a daddy’s girl and I would not have it any other way.

Matt is a momma’s boy because I have tried to be intentional about fulfilling his love language and keeping his love tank full. If you have never read the book The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman, I encourage you to read it. It is beneficial in any relationship. Most importantly, is discovering your love language and having someone in your life to fill your love tank. 

If you have ever experienced that knock at the door that changes your life forever, you know what it is like to live with that the rest of your life. I continue to struggle to this day with the fear of that knock. If Lionel or the children are out sometimes I am almost overcome with the fear that something bad is going to happen to them and that I am going to again get that knock at the door. I try to immediately start praying when this happens. The Lord always calms me and gives me the wisdom I need to make rational decisions.

Throughout the years, I have learned that the Lord is always with us whether we realize it or not. However, if I will reach out to Him during those hard times, I will experience His Peace and His Presence. Experiencing His Peace is one of the most powerful, awe-inspiring experiences of life on this side of Eternity. 

That Knock at the Door

I was born in Scottsboro to very loving, kind, and devoted parents. I was a momma’s girl and a daddy’s girl. My mother was a stay-at-home mom until I was in the fourth or fifth grade, so we spent a lot of time together. Anytime my dad was going anywhere, I always jumped at the opportunity to go with him. I loved hanging out with him no matter what we were doing. I would lay in his lap and he would rub/scratch my back for what seemed like hours. We would spend hours playing cards or fishing. Well, I mostly played Barbies under the hull of the boat, but I loved just being with him out on the lake.

 In 1984, I was a sophomore in high school living the life of a typical high school student. I danced, ballet and jazz, six days a week and was on the high school dance team. In November, we received the dreaded knock at the door. My dad was on his way home from Huntsville where he worked at Redstone Arsenal. He started throwing up profusely then passed out. Thankfully, he carpooled back and forth to work so one of the men quickly called the ambulance. The wife of one of the men that dad carpooled with came and knocked on our door to let us know what had happened. Mom and I rushed to the hospital in Huntsville. Initially, the doctors thought Dad  had a bleeding ulcer but discovered he had pancreatitis(explain what that is…. It’s essentially……). He was admitted to intensive care. Our family spent the next seven weeks at the hospital. Except for four days, he spent all that time in intensive care. He was intubated the majority of that time and had four surgeries. They did not even sew him up after each surgery; they would just pack the wound. The doctors kept going back in to try to clean out the infection. The pain was so intense they had a hard time controlling it. The amount of suffering he endured was so hard to witness. 

My family stayed at the hospital, sleeping in the waiting room most of the time. My sister and I got up every morning and would drive back to Scottsboro for her to go to work and I would go to school. In the afternoon, we would drive back to the hospital to spend the night. My brother was in college at the time but dropped out so he could stay with Mom at the hospital. Mom only left the hospital overnight a couple of times and slept on the sofas in the waiting room the rest of the time. That year, we spent Thanksgiving and Christmas at the hospital. The most important thing to us during this time was to all be together. 

During this time, our family had so many family and friends that came to sit with us in the waiting room, provide food, give us money, and supported us throughout these weeks. I had a cousin that lived in Huntsville that stayed by our side. Mom would go to her house each day to take a shower and change clothes. My cousin washed Mom’s clothes for her. Also, the hospital had some empty rooms set up with regular beds that they allowed people to rent who were from out of town. Family and friends rented the room for us several times during our stay so that we did not have to sleep in the waiting room. Even Dad’s primary doctor had a church member that brought us food, visited with us, and one family even offered to let us have a key to their house which was close to the hospital to come and go as we needed. We felt the love and prayers of many. 

Because my dad was on a ventilator, he was unable to talk to us but we still found ways to communicate. He had a clipboard and would write notes to the nurses and to us. I have those notes and cherish them today. He would write and say “in pain” or “I want to see my wife”. Dad and I would communicate by winking at each other. The last communication I remember was my dad opening his eyes and winking at me before he went completely unconscious. 

The doctor’s never determined the cause of my dad’s pancreatitis. After seven long weeks in the hospital, my dad passed just after the new year. The days that followed were some of the darkest days of my life. I went back to school and attempted to go back to ballet and dance. I had lost so much muscle mass after having missed for 7 weeks and I was so heartbroken that I just did not have it in me anymore to try to catch up. I spent the next couple of years hanging out with my mother. I was not myself. I feared leaving my mother’s side for fear something bad would happen to her. I did not attend any high school functions after that and really became somewhat of a recluse. After about two years, I just came out of the fog and was more like my old self. However, my dad’s death had forever changed me.

I do not remember feeling the Lord’s Presence during Dad’s illness and after Dad’s death, but now I see and know He was there with our family during that time. The Lord placed so many people in our life during that time that carried us through. The Lord often uses His people.  I believe we were just in survival mode and numb from the pain. Those are the times that the Lord carries you whether you realize it or not. Isaiah 46:4 says “ Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you”.

One of the greatest lessons I learned losing my dad at a young age is the importance of a dad. My love language is physical touch. My dad was fulfilling that need by letting me lay on his lap while he rubbed my back, and by hugging me and kissing me every night before bed. That affection filled up my love tank. After he was gone, my tank became empty over time. No one could fill it up like my dad had filled it up. My brother would leave me notes on my pillow at night and take me on dates but it was not the same. Unfortunately, after several years, I started to look for other guys to fulfill those needs and it was not always in healthy ways. I made some very poor choices in the search for someone to fulfill my love language. 

Today, my children have a great relationship with their dad. I have always encouraged Lionel to let Emily crawl in his lap for those hugs and back rubs no matter her age. If he does not do that she will start looking for it in unhealthy relationships with other guys. Lionel has done a great job carrying this out and they have a great relationship. She is a daddy’s girl and I would not have it any other way.

Matt is a momma’s boy because I have tried to be intentional about fulfilling his love language and keeping his love tank full. If you have never read the book The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman, I encourage you to read it. It is beneficial in any relationship. Most importantly, is discovering your love language and having someone in your life to fill your love tank. 

If you have ever experienced that knock at the door that changes your life forever, you know what it is like to live with that the rest of your life. I continue to struggle to this day with the fear of that knock. If Lionel or the children are out sometimes I am almost overcome with the fear that something bad is going to happen to them and that I am going to again get that knock at the door. I try to immediately start praying when this happens. The Lord always calms me and gives me the wisdom I need to make rational decisions.

Throughout the years, I have learned that the Lord is always with us whether we realize it or not. However, if I will reach out to Him during those hard times, I will experience His Peace and His Presence. Experiencing His Peace is one of the most powerful, awe-inspiring experiences of life on this side of Eternity.