My grandmother says all the time "we are blessed."  There are many times I agree with her and some that I don't.  Four years ago, today, was one of the times, I just couldn't completely agree.  My mom was at the end of her 9 month battle with lung cancer.  After months of chemo and radiation, infections, multiple pic lines, hospital stays and transfusions...she finally crossed the finish line.  It wasn't a win that I wanted to celebrate, but it was a win nonetheless.  My mom had everything to live for and fought hard and received treatment clear till we brought her home on hospice.  

Her final weeks she rode in an ambulance every day, in excruciating pain, 2 blocks from the hospital for radiation.  Her one last hope, that she may fight the disease that taking over her body.  Her perseverance showed time and time again, how much she truly felt she had to live for, her children and her grandchildren.  The same motivation that enabled her to endure so many horrific things through her lifetime.

I get asked time and time again, "how did your mother not know?' So to that I share with you one of my posts from a while ago.  "Ode to My Mother."

I will never forget when the officer showed up at the house to take our first statements regarding our abuser (biological father) and the abuse we had survived, "Do you have any idea how lucky you are?"  I remember thinking that if this is called lucky I would surely hate to see what bad luck looked like. But what he meant that day was that - our mother called the police, she confronted the abuser as soon as she found out and she was standing by our sides holding us up.  This wasn't the norm, it was often that the mother would turn a blind eye and side with the abuser, father, boyfriend or whomever that may be.  A mother standing beside her children was unusual.  This officer made sure that we were very aware of how unusual this was.

And so I present to you my post "Ode to My Mother," Mother's Day 2011.  Thank you. Thank you for your support, your love and your continued awakening. The time is now.

Ode To My Mother....5/11/2011
The topic on my heart tonight is my MOTHER.  Yep....what an amazing woman.  She has been through hell and back.  To live in the house with my abusive biological father, to do everything that she could to protect her children, to be the best Mother in the world, to be there no matter what, even to this day.  To be the best Grandmother on the planet.  She is so full of love.

OK WAIT, your saying...go ahead...what are you thinking....how could 2 children be abused in a home and the Mother not know it's simple SHE WAS ABUSED TOO!!  If you have been reading my blog you know that I didn't know my brother was being abused or that my Mother was being abused.  My brother didn't know I was being abused or that my Mother was abused and my Mother had no idea that he was abusing the 2 of us.  The one common theme for the 3 of us, is that we thought by taking the abuse ourselves no-one and I mean no-one would suffer.  BOY WERE WE WRONG.

I will never forget that fateful night when my mother called me home from work, telling me that my brother had been abused by my biological father was abusing my brother.  My brother had taken the car (no license) and gotten home too late, by the time he got home, my mother was already home from work.  There she wait for him.  She made a comment that if my brother didn't shape up he would have to go live with my father, and all hell broke loose.  They were seperated at the time and the threat of the possiblity that my brother would have to go live with this monster sent my brother over the edge.

He began to talk to tell my mother all the terrible things that had been done to him and he continued to fill her on all the things that this terrible man had done to him.  She was in complete shock.  She called me I came straight home and my brother began to fill me in as well.  I was fuming mad.  I always thought if I had a sister that this would be the case, but not a brother.  Then I couldn't bring myself to tell her he had similar to me for all these years.  She was devasted.  Like someone had tore her heart out of her chest and put it back. He was so manipulative, calculated,etc.....he had us all convinced that we couldn't talk about it or we wouldn't see eachother again, let's just say he was good at what he did.

SO needless to say over the next 3 days everything came out, the police came for interviews etc.  The only thing to this day she always said she was trying to protect us from everything....but couldn't protect her children from the inside.  She was remarkable.  Unlike a lot of mother's that go through this, my mother stood by our side.  Even the lawyers, judges, counselors, etc said that we were very luck that most mother's stand by the man, father, etc...never ever do they stand by the side of the kids.  Can you imagine a mother not supporting their children??  I was in such shock.  My mother has always been so devoted to us, can't imagine a parent not standing by their kids.

Happens more time than not I have learned.

So -- tonight's blog is dedicated to a mother that loves and cherishes her children, that is totally dedicated to them and feels so terribly guilty all of these and still about what happened.  But you know what KUDOS to my mom for taking action and making a different in tow kids's lives....THANK YOU MOTHER FOR STEPPING UP AND SAVING US.  We love you.

Love to all, praying for lives to be changed.
​

I have always been fascinated by religions. I love talking to people about their beliefs, their whys and am passionate about learning how others tick.  

I grew up in a family that had a lot going on behind the door, but the outward version of my family was pretty normal. I played sports, went to slumber parties, was in Girl Scouts, went to youth group and Sunday school. It was always required to go to Sunday school, and honestly there was a lot of fun to be had. 

I played in the church bell choir, I was an acolyte (lighting candles and other pre-service duties), went on a "choir tour" with my youth group and would attend Sunday services with my family. At a young age into my teens I went to church to be with my friends.  Social time was important.  I could hang out with my friends at all the different church things I did each week.  As the years went on I was learning about the bible, what was expected of me and believing all that was put in front of me. I felt very torn, as my brain tormented over the outward version of myself and the hidden person I had to be. I wondered if God saw what was going on, I wondered if my prayers were being heard. 

As the years went on my family went to several churches.  The abuse came out in 1993 and my abuser was sentenced in 1994. I struggled with the idea of him being forgiven and given the same opportunities as me.  I heard of his thinking he had done nothing wrong and being kicked out of treatment and labeled as the pedophile that wasn't amenable to treatment.  

I was married, had kids and put them in a private christian school. I was plugged into a church, volunteered for both the church body and for the children's ministry.  But the mental anguish over my "Christianity" and my past continued to eat away at me.  How could an all-knowing good God allow for a child to be raped, molested, sodomized, emotionally and physically abused over and over and over again.  How is that possible? I grappled with this idea for many many years.

Then came time for his prison release.  I filed for a lifetime restraining order and the reality set in that he would be out in society, doing as he pleases.  At the hearing, for the protection order, he had two "pastors" write letters on his behalf from the prison.  They stated how my abuser had made amends for his choices, how God had forgave him, and that there shouldn't be a restraining order upon him. That he wasn't a violent man and that he deserves to live his life.

The commissioner read my abusers statement.  He said how happy he was to be a grandfather and how he wanted nothing more than the family to come back together.  He hadn't done anything wrong and that he wasn't violent. That God had forgiven him and that he was walking in path of the Lord.

Again I cringed.  I was glad the Commissioner saw through the statements and granted the lifetime restraining order for myself and my children. But what resonated with me was the statements of forgiveness and how he should be able to go on about his life and have his family back.  

He made a choice.  His choices of abuse, made him lose his family forever. There was no question.  There is nothing that he can do or say to take back what he did.  I have heard it all, "Of course he's forgiven in the eyes of God." "God only gives you what you can handle." The list goes on.  

All of this writing to say, faith, I have it.  What is my faith in? Good question.  I believe that there is something bigger, I believe that I am who I am today, because of what I have been through in my 45 years on this planet. I believe and have faith in LOVE, for all people.  I have faith in strength and community.  I have faith in people.  I believe that we can come together and do things that no other species can do.  I believe in the wonder of life. 

I don't know where all of my faith comes from.  I have gone away from the church and back again and away again. I have been with God to go away from God and around and around.  Although I can't put a name on my faith or tie my faith to anyone thing - I will say that I believe we belong to each other and there there is no such thing as other people's children.  

So as I hear of people being treated unfairly, people being shunned by beliefs, people being judged because of who they love, people battling hate and discrimination - I hope and dream and wish and pray for LOVE and acceptance. For those that love and accept unconditionally, those people, impact their families, their communities, their cities, states, nations - those people become the people everyone wants to be with and around.  Those are the people impacting the world - being the change - movers and shakers.

I challenge us all to open our eyes and our hearts - and truly feel love. Teach love.  Be love.

"Being silent and hidden is no longer an option." -pennie saum

Today is my little brother's birthday.  I remember when he was born, I was taken to North Carolina from Maryland for a bit, while my mom had him and came home to recover.  His birth was less than easy. The cord wrapped around his neck.  My mom was a petite woman. After a c-section and the challenges of his birth,  all seemed right with the world.  

I was brought back home, after some recovery time.  I was so excited to have a little brother I couldn't wait to be a big sister and help out in whatever I could.  I remember vaguely some of the fun times around 1977.  Mainly focused around the new baby.  But there was another side to those times.  There was touching and fondling, there was emotional abuse and there were games.  

As the years went on I truly believed that if I did what I was told, by my abuser, that my little brother would be safe.  I played along, did what I was told and asked of me.  I would remind myself constantly to keep things to myself, that this was one of those times that they meant by, "What happens in our house, stays in our house."  What a detrimental statement.  

The years went on the abuse continued, the occurrences of sexual acts increased, the comments and touching were always there.  In my young mind, I took on the role of protector.  He would remind me that I was keeping the family together, that my participation with him fulfilled what he was missing and that nothing would happen to our family, my mother or my brother.  I truly thought I was protecting them.  I bared it, I bared it all.

I would learn, on that fateful day in 1993, that my protecting did nothing. If anything it hurt those that I loved the most, my mother and brother.  My brother was brave that day.  He found his voice. He spoke of the abuse, of the holes in the bathroom door, the beatings, the porn and the list went on.

We both endured horrendous heinous acts, at the hand of our father, our abuser.  My mother also was emotionally abused.  My protection did nothing, but protect the abuser.  

Protecting has been a long practice that I have continued.  Only to learn the devastating effects that trying to protect those you love, can cause.  I am hear to tell you that authenticity and truth is the only true life practice.  Silence in honor of protecting those you love, silence in honor of protecting your image or your reputation, SILENCE does nothing.  

Of course as a child I only knew what I was hearing day in and day out.  I didn't know what the reality was, I was living in a different reality, a reality that existed within four walls and a door that would only open every now and then.  These were lessons I learned as a child.  Silence in the name of protection. 

Now also 45 years later - truth, voices and authenticity - the ONLY way to be.
"The time came where being silent and hidden was no longer an option." 

My hope for each of you is you will find your voice deep inside your strength.

xo - pennie