12/13 Good Wednesday morning Brandon, Momentous things have been happening. Spot’77 went and found 40+ minutes of vmails he left me last week: 12/1. [I gave him my password and he went and found them in my gmail.] His story is harrowing! Unimaginable. Dad died in ‘92. He turned 15 that year and got a job and supported Mom. She had a revelation to invite another family with 3 sons to live with them. They all lived off of Spot’s meager $660 a month. After 6 months Mom was at her wits end. Spot, will you please get them to move out. He is 15 and he is supposed to kick them out? @ The story is a good one and it didn’t end there. Mom invited another family to come live with them. Spot told them up front 6 months was it and how to get a great job using his skills. Paul, a convert and an experienced cook, got a job, saved his money and moved out. Success! @ Back to the funeral. Spot told me the letter I wrote him that day has always haunted him. 25 years ago Brandon! He was obedient to Mom and threw it away without reading it. He asked me if I could remember what I had written him. Are you kidding? I didn’t even remember writing him! :) I reassured him it was probably just more of the same. I have always loved him and our relationship right now is evidence of that. @He squirmed a bit when he heard his own voice on a vmail I returned to him. He said he sounded like a 13 year old. I squirm when I hear my voice too. @ I told him I keep good journals and I would go see if I mentioned anything about it and what might have been in that letter. I was not very hopeful. I pulled out my light blue journal for that year and started reading and hunting. I found 2 pages he might enjoy so I vmailed and read them to him. This morning he texted me that it made him cry. Woah! Cool! That is why I keep journals. Hoping they will be of use in the future. And if my brother who can’t feel anything, is going to cry over it. . . Is that a reward, a payoff, or what? So why not copy it and send it to him. I did and here it is:
Subject:
Silly me. I was inspired by how much those vmails meant to you. So I took an hour and dictated it out on Dragon speak.
vern jensen <phonev6@gmail.com>10:40AM (3 minutes ago)to Spot
7:20 AM January 16, 1992 I'm in room 127 the Thunderbird Motel in Spokane Washington. We drove back from Grangeville Idaho yesterday evening. At the Grangeville Ward house (LDS) the funeral was held. He (Louis – dad) was buried at the cemetery in Harpster. It was quite a long slow distance from Grangeville. It was a tiny cemetery up on a hill. It gave me the creeps to imagine satanic rituals taking place in that isolated place some night. The cemetery was 2 miles below their 20 acres and the roundhouse they have covered with a roof recently. We drove up and saw it.
I wasn't sure what to expect and how I would need to be able to respond. After writing yesterday I went to bed and still was busy in my mind with thoughts. I began to pray while laying on my bed, on my back, and I felt so at peace and in touch but not peaceful in my mind. I had chills run down my skin and body three or four times as I prayed and thought about my life and my family (children and wife). I felt like it was a calm confirmation (possibly) from the spirit of heavenly father saying he loves me and I am doing right and he approves of and loves me. And a new thought I valued was that the most valuable aspect and influence I can be in my life is the constancy, of me in my family. My home in St. George, my wife and children, my job and education, are the best possible influence I can be in my extended family. There is no action I need to take or words I need to say.
Thank you heavenly father for allowing me to keep this part of my life the same for the last 10 years. Perhaps it is been a blessing he has given me partially as an example of the possibility of “normalness” and steadiness to my siblings. This might sound like I think I meet and like I'm bragging but the thought came as an answer to “how Do I fit in the scheme of my family and what do I need to do to help them?” Answer: Nothing, perhaps,… Just live a good life.[Spot, can you detect the tentativeness? I'm never quite sure. (possibly), perhaps]
{Brandon, this is where I started my vmail to Spot, to tell him about his letter eventually.}
My number one goal was to be honest and true to myself during this funeral occasion. Not to be deceitful or false in any way, if possible.
My number two goal was to case things out and investigate. See where my mom is coming from, and what Louis' siblings thought, and how they were reacting and how he was excepted and thought of in his community.
My third desire, which began as top priority was to confirm that my father's death was real, and that it was safe to put my caution of him aside.
We arrived in Grangeville at 10 AM and after filling up with gas at the Maverick we arrived at church at about 10:15. I entered to write Spot a letter in the Chapel. Lloyd Wright, Junius Jensen, and Reggie Jensen were there at the front side bench talking. I shook hands. Junius introduced himself as did Reggie then Lloyd. (Junius was bearded – gray and curly). Reggie asked who came with me and I gave him the rundown and explained why Julie and Adrian wouldn't be here.
Reggie was preparing to give the “life sketch”. He did a good job. He was a brother just three years older than Louis. It was best to have someone dad's age give the perspective of his life.
I sat near the middle and began to write Spot. I wanted him to have something to read and consider after it was all over and the memories of what was said have all become jumbled. I wanted to help him feel respected and loved (accepted) and also to plant a seed of self honesty, to spark his understanding of our parents, and prompt the end of deceit in his own mind, and the beginning of self acceptance and humility on his own part.[Spot, I hesitated to share the word humility with you. It turned out you already are. We have to be humble to make changes.]
I gave mom a one armed hug when she entered the front of the Chapel for first time. Later she approached me from one bench behind me, and was alone in the Chapel with me. I turned to face her and we had this conversation. Of course one of my goals was to see if Dad might have left a letter of apology or if mom would admit and own up to to the cause of their isolation and move to Grangeville.
Mom – I hope you won't feel offended that I included you as a pallbearer. I called your house yesterday but you had left so I couldn't ask you.
Vern – No, I don't mind and it is what I was expecting from what Brent said. If there is anything else that needs to be done on the program I would be willing to help.
Mom – I hadn't talked to you so I didn't know, and I hope you won't feel bad that I have asked Brent to give the family prayer.
Vern – No, that's fine.
Mom – I hope we can go on and progress from here. I want to put the past behind us and be able to move on and progress. I love you and your dad loves you and if there is anything you ever want to talk about or need resolved I would be glad to talk with you about anything. I want to put the past behind us and if there is anything that is holding you or any of the other children back I am willing to talk with you anytime.
Vern – There needs to be some admission…(Pause)
Mom – Yes, there does.…
Vern – I feel like I have done my part in admitting.…
Mom – I feel like I have done my part two.
Vern – I wondered if you felt that way.
Mom – Yes!… Definitely!… Definitely!
[Spot, true to form, I wrote Louis and Myrna of letter, a confession, and invitation two years before at the excommunication. In that letter I confessed the most heinous sin of my life: masturbation. I can't tell you how difficult that was. In front of the stake presidency and the high Council I confessed that sin and invited Louis and Myrna to confess theirs. Looking back I can see that there is really no comparison. How could masturbation be compared with child abuse and murder.]
The façade is still on. The farce is still intact and being promulgated. Nothing has changed. The woman who raised her arm to the square and testify of no wrongdoing at the church disciplinary counsel on March 4, 1991 is still putting on the show. Sad. So sad. But she is living a lie of righteousness that she can't let go. Not even for the reward of an honest relationship with her own children. But ostracism is a tremendous driving force. Appearances must be maintained if one is to survive In peer pressured, social world.
I knew then (after that conversation) that the day would be a sham. It was, and it was extremely dry and slow and boring for me. Nice things were said; and the plan of salvation explained; touching words were sung; and thoughtful prayers were given, but it was all pretend. The honesty was not there. I could not be touched nor could I feel or respond because it was not real or sincere. I won't be untrue to my feelings by thinking the beautiful truths of the gospel applied to unrepentant, proud interlopers. The truth is not within them. Mom has lived a life of deceit and not having her US citizenship has been just one persistent evidence of that. How sad. How else can she act? Her world would fall apart if she tried to be honest, so she is locked in her pattern.
This one is to make you smile. You had to raise your Mom!
Silly me. I was inspired by how much those vmails meant to you. So I took an hour and dictated it out on Dragon speak.
vern jensen <phonev6@gmail.com>10:40AM (3 minutes ago)to Spot
7:20 AM January 16, 1992 I'm in room 127 the Thunderbird Motel in Spokane Washington. We drove back from Grangeville Idaho yesterday evening. At the Grangeville Ward house (LDS) the funeral was held. He (Louis – dad) was buried at the cemetery in Harpster. It was quite a long slow distance from Grangeville. It was a tiny cemetery up on a hill. It gave me the creeps to imagine satanic rituals taking place in that isolated place some night. The cemetery was 2 miles below their 20 acres and the roundhouse they have covered with a roof recently. We drove up and saw it.
I wasn't sure what to expect and how I would need to be able to respond. After writing yesterday I went to bed and still was busy in my mind with thoughts. I began to pray while laying on my bed, on my back, and I felt so at peace and in touch but not peaceful in my mind. I had chills run down my skin and body three or four times as I prayed and thought about my life and my family (children and wife). I felt like it was a calm confirmation (possibly) from the spirit of heavenly father saying he loves me and I am doing right and he approves of and loves me. And a new thought I valued was that the most valuable aspect and influence I can be in my life is the constancy, of me in my family. My home in St. George, my wife and children, my job and education, are the best possible influence I can be in my extended family. There is no action I need to take or words I need to say.
Thank you heavenly father for allowing me to keep this part of my life the same for the last 10 years. Perhaps it is been a blessing he has given me partially as an example of the possibility of “normalness” and steadiness to my siblings. This might sound like I think I meet and like I'm bragging but the thought came as an answer to “how Do I fit in the scheme of my family and what do I need to do to help them?” Answer: Nothing, perhaps,… Just live a good life.[Spot, can you detect the tentativeness? I'm never quite sure. (possibly), perhaps]
{Brandon, this is where I started my vmail to Spot, to tell him about his letter eventually.}
My number one goal was to be honest and true to myself during this funeral occasion. Not to be deceitful or false in any way, if possible.
My number two goal was to case things out and investigate. See where my mom is coming from, and what Louis' siblings thought, and how they were reacting and how he was excepted and thought of in his community.
My third desire, which began as top priority was to confirm that my father's death was real, and that it was safe to put my caution of him aside.
We arrived in Grangeville at 10 AM and after filling up with gas at the Maverick we arrived at church at about 10:15. I entered to write Spot a letter in the Chapel. Lloyd Wright, Junius Jensen, and Reggie Jensen were there at the front side bench talking. I shook hands. Junius introduced himself as did Reggie then Lloyd. (Junius was bearded – gray and curly). Reggie asked who came with me and I gave him the rundown and explained why Julie and Adrian wouldn't be here.
Reggie was preparing to give the “life sketch”. He did a good job. He was a brother just three years older than Louis. It was best to have someone dad's age give the perspective of his life.
I sat near the middle and began to write Spot. I wanted him to have something to read and consider after it was all over and the memories of what was said have all become jumbled. I wanted to help him feel respected and loved (accepted) and also to plant a seed of self honesty, to spark his understanding of our parents, and prompt the end of deceit in his own mind, and the beginning of self acceptance and humility on his own part.[Spot, I hesitated to share the word humility with you. It turned out you already are. We have to be humble to make changes.]
I gave mom a one armed hug when she entered the front of the Chapel for first time. Later she approached me from one bench behind me, and was alone in the Chapel with me. I turned to face her and we had this conversation. Of course one of my goals was to see if Dad might have left a letter of apology or if mom would admit and own up to to the cause of their isolation and move to Grangeville.
Mom – I hope you won't feel offended that I included you as a pallbearer. I called your house yesterday but you had left so I couldn't ask you.
Vern – No, I don't mind and it is what I was expecting from what Brent said. If there is anything else that needs to be done on the program I would be willing to help.
Mom – I hadn't talked to you so I didn't know, and I hope you won't feel bad that I have asked Brent to give the family prayer.
Vern – No, that's fine.
Mom – I hope we can go on and progress from here. I want to put the past behind us and be able to move on and progress. I love you and your dad loves you and if there is anything you ever want to talk about or need resolved I would be glad to talk with you about anything. I want to put the past behind us and if there is anything that is holding you or any of the other children back I am willing to talk with you anytime.
Vern – There needs to be some admission…(Pause)
Mom – Yes, there does.…
Vern – I feel like I have done my part in admitting.…
Mom – I feel like I have done my part two.
Vern – I wondered if you felt that way.
Mom – Yes!… Definitely!… Definitely!
[Spot, true to form, I wrote Louis and Myrna of letter, a confession, and invitation two years before at the excommunication. In that letter I confessed the most heinous sin of my life: masturbation. I can't tell you how difficult that was. In front of the stake presidency and the high Council I confessed that sin and invited Louis and Myrna to confess theirs. Looking back I can see that there is really no comparison. How could masturbation be compared with child abuse and murder.]
The façade is still on. The farce is still intact and being promulgated. Nothing has changed. The woman who raised her arm to the square and testify of no wrongdoing at the church disciplinary counsel on March 4, 1991 is still putting on the show. Sad. So sad. But she is living a lie of righteousness that she can't let go. Not even for the reward of an honest relationship with her own children. But ostracism is a tremendous driving force. Appearances must be maintained if one is to survive In peer pressured, social world.
I knew then (after that conversation) that the day would be a sham. It was, and it was extremely dry and slow and boring for me. Nice things were said; and the plan of salvation explained; touching words were sung; and thoughtful prayers were given, but it was all pretend. The honesty was not there. I could not be touched nor could I feel or respond because it was not real or sincere. I won't be untrue to my feelings by thinking the beautiful truths of the gospel applied to unrepentant, proud interlopers. The truth is not within them. Mom has lived a life of deceit and not having her US citizenship has been just one persistent evidence of that. How sad. How else can she act? Her world would fall apart if she tried to be honest, so she is locked in her pattern.
This one is to make you smile. You had to raise your Mom!
No comments:
Post a Comment