Connie's Coda*
Monthly Column by Constance Gilbert

My mother was very much like her mother. And as often happens when two people are alike, they battled constantly, which led to my mother running away and getting married. At least that was the story.

Actually, my parents never married, but my arrival was their initial reason for staying together. Grandma Jan moved quite often; so sometimes she lived near us and sometimes on the other side of the country. There was always conflict when she was around, but I rarely understood the dynamics going on. She came to see us as the bearer of gifts; and took us to Schensule's Cafeteria, where we could have anything and as much as we wanted. She taught me how to play Canasta and then, when I'd mastered that, Samba with three decks of cards--more than my little hands could hold.

My memories of her are confusing as there was always a mystery about her. Things left unsaid when we kids were around, and arguments behind closed doors.

I was her first grandchild; but nine grandchildren later, I no longer felt special. There were some good times like our card games and the birthday when she gave me my first watch. I remember her singing “Oh, Christmas Tree” in German, her deep green velvet dress that felt so luxurious and that she wore fur coats of mink or sable with jewelry that reflected the light like a rainbow.

In my thirties, I learned she sent gifts without paying for them, and she lived at a level she couldn't afford. She was domineering, demanding and had to be the center of attention, which was a major problem as my mother had the same traits. Both women in the same room meant sparks would fly. So she was in and out of my life repeatedly. She died when my little sister was a baby so she doesn't remember Grandma. My other sister was young also. So my limited memories are all there are.

Two generations of lies and probably personality and/or bipolar disorders. Two generations, but not a third! I am not my mother. Although I've dealt with depression since I was a teen, I am a survivor. I make a conscious choice daily to be who God wants me to be. To be a reflection of Him doesn't allow me to be self-centered, domineering, or the center of attention with selfish ambitions, hatred, discord, and jealousy. I strive to be a servant and to reflect the Fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self control. Is it easy? No, for we are born with a sinful nature; plus I have the genes of my mother and grandmother. Nevertheless, I've come to understand that I was created in the image of God or, as I heard someone say, I have God's DNA. I am a child of the King! I have Jesus' earthly life as an example to follow and the guidance of the Holy Spirit. All of which means, I do not have to be the third generation of lies and deception. I can fulfill God's purpose in my life knowing He can handle all the knots, tangles, and wrong stitches in my life's tapestry.

If you're still reading this, it's probably because you can relate to my life. I want to assure you that God's way is the answer. Jesus paid the price for our sinful natures, and He awaits us, as His brothers and sisters. We are a work in progress...preparing for eternity.

---

About the Author: Connie is currently writing a book on Breaking the Chains of emotional abuse. She is the coauthor of "Christ's Light: In and Beyond Us" (an e-book), and she writes for several Christian publications. Connie would love for you to visit her blog site found at www.consheartstrings.blogspot.com. She can be contacted by e-mail to: cgeewriter@yahoo.com.