Saturday, March 6, 2010
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
The morning of July 24th 2009 was a day I will never forget; a day that changed the way I put meaning into every dream, and a day that will change my life forever in a sense, that I can never take life for granite, especially when it comes to people whom I love and have spent “my” entire life with.
A week earlier, I had a bad dream. A dream that will haunt me until the day I die. I dreamed my sister passed away and I had to tell everyone that she was dead. I still remember standing under the carport with family sitting around; talking and laughing while a cool breeze made its way through the trees. We were having a family gathering; but one of us was missing. As I walked out the front door, I could feel a sense of dread come over me, but I could not quiet put my finger on it. And then the words flew out of my mouth. “Charity’s passed away”. I said. I remember the sudden mood of everyone around me with their empty eyes and pale faces. Everyone looked at me as if they could see right through me. They must have thought I was crazy or something.
The dream was so real that it woke me with a jolt. I lay there facing the window, thinking about what had just happened; trying to adjust my eyes to the bright Sunday morning sun and piece together what I knew was a nightmare. As the morning went on, I thought about this dream and the more that ran through my head, the more worried I became. My sister and I had a falling out the Christmas before when she visited my home, only to leave with my prescription drugs. She was an addict and had been for many years. First on cocaine and then later, oxycotin became her drug of choice. She once told our brother that this drug was hard to break and kicking the habit seemed to be futile.
I called my mother around noon to find out if she knew where Charity was living. She did not know the exact place but asked why I needed to know so badly. I told her of the dream that I had and she kind of laughed and shrugged it off since she didn’t believe too much emphasis on dream. My mother and I tried to call Charity but her phone had been disconnected and without thinking of who else to call for help, I let it go; shaking it off as just another bad dream.
In the early morning hours of July 24th, I was up around 7:30am watching Third Watch and exercising when the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, and it was my mother. I suddenly realized that my mother lived in a time zone one hour behind me; making her time 6:30am. That feeling of dread came over me again, like déjà as I cautiously answered. “Hello”, I said. “Mother why are calling me so early”? “What is wrong’?
As I stood there with the phone to my ear, all I could hear was the sound of my mother’s voice screaming to the top of her lungs that someone was dead. I was in a daze at this point and maybe it was the dread that made the sound of her voice seem like a mumble. When I finally got her calmed down, I began to ask questions. At first I thought she was talking about her husband, but then I heard the name Charity. “Mom, did you say Charity”? A quivering voice on the other end stopped and said “yes”. “Is she dead mama”? I asked. Again the voice said “yes”. I felt my heartbeat stop, then I screamed “mama no”, as the phone plunged from my hand to the floor. I fell at the foot of my bed screaming and crying; facing the fear and dread of that dream and feeling a hole in my heart open up to a world that would be void until the time of my own death.
Although my mother, at my request, was trying to bring my sister and I together; to let everything go and not let a bottle of pills come between us, and although closing in on success; the day came too late. I never held my sister again and I never told her that I loved her one more time; not since that Christmas evening. And though dreams can sometimes paint a picture of the past; a subconscious mind; very rare do mine reflect an event in the future; a warning that went unnoticed. What started out as a dream had turned into a nightmare; a reality of everything that hides in the mind. Can dreams be warnings of things to come? A picture of the future; or do dreams play out the thoughts hidden deep in the subconscious?
With whatever reasoning we can put on our dreams, I know now to not take any dreams so vivid, so clear and so disturbing for granite. My life will forever be changed with the loss of my sister Charity because of drugs, but I’m haunted by my actions for thinking it could never happen at such a tender age; not to our family, yet I’m reminded of her everyday through memories and the eyes of her child, who now lives with me.
In Loving Memory This Memorial Day
Charity Lynn Smith Helton
January 21st 1968-July 24th 2008
A soldier who fought the war on drugs and lost.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Song and Music by Micheal W. Smith
Please press the arrow to begin video.
In Loving Memory:
Charity Lynn Smith Helton
January 21,1968 - July 24, 2008
Charity is not only My Sister, she was my best friend. We lost touch over the last few years because she moved and then got addicted to drugs. We used to do all kinds of things together. We raised our children together, went shopping; out to eat or just hung out. We could never get along though if we lived together. It seems our two worlds clashed, but we were fine as long as she had her place and I had mine. I remember when my life was kinda messed up, Charity would alway be there for me with understanding and even cried with me. When her life was messed up, she always thought I was judging her and would never let me in. I later found out she was under the influence of drugs.
One of my favorite past times with my sister was Holidays. She was an exceptional cook and always cooked enough for an army, but you better get to her house early because trust me, the army showed up. She loved her children and took pride in them all. She worked hard and I know she loved the Lord. After she died, we went to her house and her husband gave us some of her things. One of the things that I requested was a Bible that I had given her. The sad part is I forgot to put the year in it and now all I know was I gave it to her for Christmas one year. When I got home, I begin to look through it. The cover was showing some wear so I knew she was using it. There was two tiny light rose colored stains on the front; my guess was it was her tears. She suffered so badly from this addiction and wanted depressantly to rid of herself of the mess that had taken her life and destroyed it. I open up the Bible and began to look at the many chapters and scriptures that she had highlighted. Most of which was about marriage. She loved her husband but in a sense blamed him for her addiction. She blamed the doctors for the prescription that eventually took her life. Her marriage was failing, her life was failing and in the end her heart failed her completely.
I miss my best friend and wish so much that I had not taken her life for granite. I knew she was sick and a week and a half before she died, I called my mother on a Sunday and told her we needed to find Charity. You see that Christmas, Charity and I had a falling out, over a bottle of prescription medication that was mine. I knew she took it and I was angry. Mom spent the better half of that following year trying to get us back together. I reached out but to no avail, she did not respond. Anyway, that Saturday night I dreamed I had to break the news to people that Charity had died and it was so real, so vivid that I was frightened of my own nightmares. But when we couldn't get her on the phone because it had been disconnected, we just let it go and never once tried to find out where she had moved. I was told the early part of the week she passed, she had told her mother in law that she was glad that I wanted to get together with her. That was on a Tuesday and she voiced her intentions to call me. That Thursday, July 24th 2008 her addiction took her life. We never spoke again. I love you sis and I miss you. You will live in my heart forever.
I now raise her son Dusty, who she adored and love with all her heart. I share this responsibilty with my mother Mary and my brother VJ. Dusty has ADHD and is on a lot of medication. He is doing 100% so much better than when I first got him. He has been going to church with our neighbor and finally has a social life. Please keep him in your prayers for this road that he travels is certainly a dusty one.
If you have a loved one or friend that is addicted to drugs or even alcohol, don't turn a blind eye. Although they seem to not want help, they are crying out in distress for someone to make them look at themselves in a mirror. Seek council and do what ever you have to do to help the one you love. Don't do as I have done and think that she or he will be ok, because in the end, they won't without your help. You can never give up on them even if you feel like it. And pray for me as I fight the demons within myself.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Gas is cheap when it comes Uranus
I'm crazy for GAGA puffs
What did Alaska ask Nebraska? What was I gonna aska.