At the age of 16 my mother’s drug addicted boyfriend decided that I was in the way and gave her the choice to keep him or me.
Needless to say, it was 1 week after my 16th birthday that I went to love with my grandfather in the home that I grew up in. When I arrived I felt a sense of happiness but at the same time a complete sense of sadness.
This was the home that I grew up in, the home where my grandparents raised their children but was also the place that my grandmother left. Her departure from the home created a broken atmosphere and in my eyes, took away the complete feeling of happiness and security that every child longs for. Still and yet, at the age of 16 I was grateful for my grandfather. He did something that he didn’t have to do which was took me out of a household where I was not wanted and gave me love, sacrificed and showed me that I was wanted.
Still and yet, the rebellious 16 year old in me, the one that was angry with her mother, despised her mother’s boyfriend and felt that it was only her grandfather that loved her started to surface.
From there, my life went downhill. Shortly after moving into my grandfathers house, I got involved with a much older man, got pregnant and my grandfather moved to Alabama. Life was a disaster and I was lost. After lots of prayer, I decided to devote my life to Christ, salvation and trusting God caused things to begin to well for my son and I. I started college, a full time job, and had my own place all by the time I was 21 years old.
What was so significant about this time in my life was that the apartment that I secured was the same family building that I grew up in. This was the perfect chance for me to make those same memories that my grandparents made with their children. My life was looking really good and I never felt better.