Broken Whole (eBook)

HEALING A SHATTERED HEART THROUGH DIVINE LOVE AND UNBREAKABLE FAITH

Christy Droog (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
156 Seiten
Deborah King Publishing (Verlag)
979-8-3509-2540-1 (ISBN)

Infos

In Broken Whole, her debut memoir, author Christy Droog offers the powerful true story of a life broken in pieces-shattered by her birth mother's abandonment, by childhood sexual assault, by the scars of a failed marriage and by the tragic drowning of her infant son. Yet it's this brokenness that offers Christy an opportunity to create a new life-a life reawakened, restored with purpose, rescued by divine love and transformed...not by happy endings but by an unbreakable faith in new beginnings.

Textauszug

Chapter Two

ANGEL GABRIEL

“I am Gabriel.

I stand in the very presence of God.

It was He who sent me to you…”

— LUKE 1:19

As Gabriel grew, so did his curiosity and sense of adventure. He loved exploring new places and trying new things, and I loved watching him discover the world around him. His sense of wonder and fearlessness were contagious, and I found myself embracing life with a renewed sense of joy and appreciation.

Despite the challenges we faced, Gabriel was a constant source of light and hope. He had an infectious energy that lifted everyone’s spirits and reminded us of the beauty and magic of life. His mischievous streak only added to his charm, and I found myself laughing more than I had in years.

Watching Gabriel embrace his love of farming at my parents’ sunflower farm was a particular joy. He was fascinated by every aspect of farming, from planting and harvesting to the intricacies of farm machinery. I loved watching him soak up the knowledge and wisdom of my parents and their farming community.

With each passing day, Gabriel grew more and more into his own person, with his own unique quirks and passions. I felt honored to be his mother, to guide him as he navigated the world and to watch him grow into the amazing person I knew he would become.

In the darkness of a cold November night, I awoke, gasping for breath, terrified and crying, every hair on my body standing up straight. In a dream, I had seen Gabriel’s face, his beautiful, mischievous blue eyes wide and vacant. He was floating face up in the blue water of a swimming pool, his chest completely still. Gabriel had drowned.

It’s just a bad dream, I breathlessly told myself. Go back to sleep.

Yet as I lay in bed, wide awake, my mind continued to race with shock — the dream felt so real! Back to sleep? I argued with myself. Not a chance!

Trembling, I rose out of bed. I tiptoed into Gabriel’s room, placing my hand on his tiny chest as he slept. I traced his precious little cheek and kissed his forehead before retreating silently back to bed.

It’s okay, Christy, I told myself. Go back to sleep. Everything is right in your world.

But for days, this dream of Gabriel haunted me, always there, in the back of my mind.

Driving home one night a month later, after picking up Gabriel from day care, a strange tension gnawed at me. I was annoyed at Gabriel’s caregiver, who had just informed me that she could not watch Gabriel the following week as she was leaving town.

Going out of town? I thought. It’s my last week of university before Christmas break! I need to study! What will I do?

Taking a breath to calm myself, I decided school would just have to wait. It was the holidays. Above all else, my heart’s desire was to revel in the blessings of my life, especially the joy of having my beautiful boy by my side, and to cherish every moment spent with him.

Instead of studying, Gabriel and I went Christmas shopping. He was such a joy to be with! My perfect companion, we bustled from store to store, delighting in the Christmas decorations, songs and twinkling lights. We baked cookies and coloured pictures of Santa. Gabriel perched on the kitchen island, talking my ear off as I cooked dinner. At 29 months old, he was wise beyond his years. We had the best week ever.

And what better way to finish our perfect week than to visit Grandma and Grandpa at their farm! This was one of Gabriel’s favourite places to be.

On our way to my parent’s home, we stopped for family pictures to give them as Christmas gifts. Gabriel looked so handsome and grown-up in his blue denim shirt. His eyes sparkled with Christmas light, the photographer perfectly capturing his joyful essence amidst a studio backdrop of yellow flowers.

As we pulled up to the farm on that chilly December 6th evening, the air was filled with anticipation. My parents were waiting for us, eager to share their Christmas spirit. As soon as we caught a glimpse of the farm, Gabriel couldn’t contain his excitement. He unhooked his seatbelt, stood up, and pumped his fists, shouting with glee, “Yes! Yes!”

My father had transformed the farm into a wonderland of twinkling Christmas lights. We led Gabriel into the living room while my father went outside to turn on the lights for the big reveal. Gabriel held his breath in suspense, and when the lights came on, his face lit up with astonishment and wonder.

“Pretty lights, Grandpa!!” he exclaimed in pure delight, his eyes shining brighter than any light on the farm.

The following morning was a bleak winter day, with temperatures below zero. I spent the day writing school papers while my parents played with Gabriel. They videotaped him as he strolled around the farm shops with my Dad and through the yard with my Mom, joyfully pointing out the glittering Christmas lights. He played on the swing set and drove the forklift and truck with Grandpa, the two of them merrily cruising the neighbourhood.

By the end of that Saturday, Gabriel was exhausted. But something kept him from sleeping. 

Against his typical easy-going nature, he shrieked so loud it chilled our bones. No one could settle Gabriel — not my husband, myself, or his beloved grandparents. Why won’t you just go to sleep? my rattled brain pleaded as Gabriel’s persistent cries pierced through the night. Frustrated and in tears, I yelled at him, “Gabriel, please go to sleep!” Instead, the crying went on.

And on.

And on.

We tried leaving him to self-soothe. That failed. We tried pulling him out of his bed to cuddle. For a moment, Gabriel would quiet and calm himself, but each time we placed him back in his bed, the wailing and shrieking would start all over again.

Finally, my heart could take no more. Entering his room, I was bewildered to find Gabriel standing in his bed, pointing somewhere behind me, yelling, “No, go away! Go away!”

Go away? Who was he talking to? Peering over my shoulder, I saw nothing — yet Gabriel adamantly warned this unseen character to go away. Whatever he saw terrified him. For the first time, he seemed frightened of the dark room. 

Exhausted from screaming, he finally fell into what can only be described as a fitful sleep, often awakening that night, yelling and pointing at something imaginary. “Go away!” He clung to his dad and me in the middle of the night.

“Stay, Mom, stay!” he sobbed.

So we stayed, stroking his tear-streaked face and hugging Gabriel tight.

The following day was December 8, 2002. The air hung heavy with anticipation on that fateful December morning. Exhausted and cranky after Gabriel’s nighttime theatrics, we decided to skip church and stay home.

After breakfast, Gabriel and his beloved new companion, Sullie, set out on a playful adventure. They frolicked and romped through the yard, the mischievous pup often knocking Gabriel over with his clumsy enthusiasm. We watched with joy, revelling in their youthful exuberance, but never thought to capture it on camera.

As we cleaned up the breakfast dishes, we suddenly spotted Gabriel perilously close to the busy highway. He had climbed the miniature Dutch windmill my parents had installed in the front yard, and my heart skipped a beat at the thought of what could have happened. My dad rushed out to bring him back to safety.

“Don’t you dare go to the windmill without us again! It’s dangerous near the road!” he admonished, fear and worry etched on his face.

As he pulled Gabriel away, he realized that he had accidentally broken a piece of the windmill. His eyes grew wide with sorrow as he looked up at my dad and pleaded, “Grandpa, fix it?”

With a tender smile, Papa promised to repair the damage. 

Relieved now that Gabriel was safely home, I went to the farm office to finish writing my semester final nursing papers. Entering my last semester of University before graduating with my Bachelor of Nursing degree, I often found reprieve at my parent’s farm, particularly on weekends. It allowed me time to complete my schoolwork while they enjoyed time with Gabriel.

Hours later, as I stepped outside the office, I heard my Dad yell from the far end of the farm, “There’s no water here!”

Curious, I walked to the farm shop where my husband was repairing his truck. “Why is Papa looking for water?” I asked. My husband told me that Sullie had come running to the shop, soaking wet, but that Gabriel was nowhere around.

“I sent Gabriel to the house to get washed up for lunch a while ago,” he said.

Confused, I stared at him. Suddenly my throat went dry: Gabriel had never reached the house.

A realization slammed into me....

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 8.1.2024
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Sachbuch/Ratgeber ► Gesundheit / Leben / Psychologie ► Lebenshilfe / Lebensführung
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-2540-1 / 9798350925401