My Soul To Keep

By RC Littleton

Spiritual growth does not always happen when one expects it, especially when it stems from deep seeded generational physical and emotional abuse leading to the insidiousness of domestic violence which had become a way of life for many. It is challenging yet fulfilling, when things begin to seemingly unr

• Language: English
• Publisher: URLink Print & Media, LLC
• Release date: Nov 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781684863228

RC Littleton

Reverend RC Littleton holds a Bachelor of Arts in Anthropology from Fordham University, a Master of Divinity from Drew Theological Seminary and a Certificate in Family Development from the Rutgers School of Social Work. She is also an Ordained Minister in the African Methodist Episcopal Church.She is a member of the National Council for Negro Women. In addition, RC Littleton is a former board member and secretary of the National Association of Securities Professionals (NASP-NY) and the Mississippi Women's Financial Educational Foundation Advisory Council.Ronda is the proud mother of one son who has graciously blessed her with six amazing and beautiful grandchildren. She is an avid skier. Her publications include: "In that Moment, "Precise Moments" and Stray Cats" a contributor to Adonai magazine.

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My Soul To Keep

RC LITTLETON

My Soul To Keep

Copyright © 2022 by RC Littleton. All rights reserved.

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The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of URLink Print and Media.

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Published in the United States of America

ISBN 978-1-68486-319-8 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68486-322-8 (Digital)

28.10.22

Contents

Dedication

Acknoweledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1: Silence Is

Chapter 2: Not So Golden

Chapter 3: Long Walk Home

Chapter 4: And So It Is

Chapter 5: Truth Is

Chapter 6: In The Mean Time

Chapter 7: Sticks, Stones And Bones

Chapter 8: Ashes And Roses

Chapter 9: Who Are You

Chapter 10: Whose Perception

Chapter 11: Some Do And Some Don’t

Chapter 12: Blow, Bite, Blow

Chapter 13: Out Of The Frying Pan

Chapter 14: Some Do And Some Don’t

Chapter 15: And Then, And Then, And Then

Chapter 16: If Only

Chapter 17: Time Heals, Wounds Remain

Chapter 18: Whose Truth

Chapter 19: Truth Hurts

Chapter 20: And The Truth Is

Chapter 21: Truth Is

Chapter 22: And The Truth Is

Chapter 23: On The Precipice Of

Chapter 24: Out of Ashes

Chapter 25: Upon This Rock

Chapter 26: Some Will, Some Won’t

Chapter 27: Or So I Thought

Chapter 28: Knock, Knock

Chapter 29: Time After Time

Chapter 30: Your Will, Your Way

Chapter 31: The Winds of Change

Chapter 32: Do You See What I See

Chapter 33: One Day At A Time

Chapter 34: Wind Changes Things

Chapter 35: Truth That Hurts, is Still Truth

Chapter 36: Knowing is Knowing

Chapter 37: Truth Be Told

Chapter 38: It Is What It Is

Chapter 39: And It Is So

Chapter 40: Changing Winds

Chapter 41: I Can, If You Will

Chapter 42: And The Chaos Goes On

Chapter 43: Standing On The Precipice

Epilog

About the Author

Dedication

This book is dedicated in part to my beloved sister Toni Renee Briggs. To know her was to love her. Her unorthodox way of speaking the truth (that we sometimes didn’t want to hear) to her colorful vocabulary and her culinary expertise were known throughout the Valley. Her tenacity was infectious as her colloquialisms continue to bring smiles to our faces and warmth to our hearts. We all love and miss you, Toni, Toni, Toni.

To my other siblings, Alberta (Birdie), Sheila and Eleanor (Pee Wee) as well as my brothers Darnell and Donnie, and my precious and beautiful grandchildren, whose lives I have been privileged to share along with all my nieces and nephews.

I wish there were other words I could think of to let you all know how much I deeply appreciate you, but I can’t, so once again, thank you, will just have to suffice. I humbly thank you all for your prayers, and most assuredly, your love.

Acknoweledgments

To thank everyone helped write this book, I would almost have to write another book; you are all awesome! So, I’m just going to throw a blanket thank-you out there to all of you. You know who you are and know that I love you dearly.

A special thank you goes out to my sister and quasi-editor Eleanor, who (tried) to keep me on track and for always encouraging me. Thank you ever so much.

If you faint in the day of adversity, your strength being small.

Proverbs 24:10 (NKJV)

Prologue

I plummeted down that path of no resistance. Once more, my heart is full of sadness because of where I am today. I followed the path set before, but now I don’t know where its leading me. I used to not care as long as the children were taken care of. What difference does it make if my eyes are swollen or my jaw is cracked, there is food on the table and my children have clothes on their backs. Does it really matter that I am vomiting blood or that I can’t lift my arm or how I limp when I walk.

Again, I try to see through this darkness. Where is this path taking me? It feels different this time, but as yet, I cannot see. Usually there is a slither of light that comforts me a little, but not this time. I gather enough courage to open my eyes and there it is—complete and utter darkness. This is the darkness that only comes at midnight. It covers you and acts like it is going to keep you warm and safe, oh, but it doesn’t. There you are stark naked and unable to move. You look around, but you can see nothing. The walls are black and there is no window. Your heart starts racing and your mind starts to spew words that don’t make sense, and then you feel a touch on your arm, and you flinch, who’s there I shout, knowing that I am alone. There is never anyone there to answer, but I keep hoping that this time it will be different, and I will be brought out into the light. Just once I’d like to be rescued before I get to this place. What will I find this time? Am I special enough to be saved or will I be eradicated before I open my eyes? This is a place of complete unpredictability.

It is both frightening and comforting at the same time. The sheer darkness does not give way to light, and no one can see in and one’s sense of hearing is heightened in this space, but the only thing you can hear is the pounding of your heart, beating so loudly that you can feel it pressing against your ribcage. There is nothing to touch you, seeing only what is in your mind. You can see the smiles on your children’s faces, but then you look up and see the dank and dark clouds hovering, heading in their direction. You scream and shout run, run, run, but they cannot hear you and you realize the futility of trying to scream because darkness has found its way into your throat, as though it is wired shut. Again, I look, only to watch as their images dissipate and all that is left is in the shadows in your mind. Try as you might, you rub your eyes as if that will somehow change the images. They are all gone and what is left is the acrid smell and the heaviness that has gripped your heart. You are naked and there is nothing to shield you. The darkness at the back of your throat is wildly throbbing. Perhaps the loudness of the screams were too much and now you have no voice. Perhaps this time you will be saved. Ah no, it is getting darker and, yet my rescuer had not appeared. She closed her eyes but could not shut out the voices warring inside her head.

Rebecca always knew that there would never be enough time to express her love to her family. That is why she tried to show them every day how much she loved them. In her heart of hearts, she knew that they would never understand the complexities of her love for their father Jacob. The kind of love that knows no boundaries. The kind of love that was as strong as the mighty acacia tree able to withstand fierce winds of hurricanes, yet as be as pliable as the mighty willow, able to bend in the direction as the strongest wind and not fall.

Her children were all too busy trying to prove themselves and how much they loved each other instead of enjoying the love that bound them together. No. That is not how they had been taught and now, she had run of time to teach them how to love. She had spent many years giving bits and pieces of herself to anyone who was in need and now, all she could do was pray that her children could see the depths of love she had for each of them in her eyes. Rebecca loved them as best she could, and now, it simply had to be enough.

Rebecca knew five years ago that she was dying. The doctors had given her two years at best, but she had beaten the odds and had confounded the medical magicians. They had been certain about her expiration date but at the end of her third year of being diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer, they were baffled by her latest test results. Unfortunately, on the eve of her fifth year, the cancer came back with a vengeance. This time, ravaging her body so quickly that there was nothing that could be done to save her. Test after test showed that the cancer was now in several vital organs. She told no one and she continued as though she had not been given such a dire prognosis. She prayed that God would allow her enough time to bring her family together so that the gift of healing of old wounds through forgiveness would be her final gift to her children.

Rebecca knew that her children would need their father as much as Jacob would need them. Knowing her fatality was imminent, she was determined to bring her family together. Rebecca was convinced that Jacob would need their help to get him through her impending death. In her mind Rebecca was determined to make her last gift a better relationship with their Father. It would be a challenging feat to accomplish. Although Jacob had changed over the years through counselling and much prayer, becoming the man she always knew in her heart him to be, unfortunately, their children had not been able to see those changes.

There was still a lot to be done to bring them together. In the past, on most every holiday she insisted that they make a sincere effort tocome home, but this time it was different, her sincerest wish was to bring her family together. For the past two years Rebecca, worked diligently to bring her family together to show them just how much their Father had changed and that he really was a good man and not the one they knew as children. Their vision of Jacob would not be easily restored, because Jacob’s brutality was horrendous, because it was compounded by his constant infidelity. Time was running out and, after her last exam, Rebecca knew that her end-time was nearing, she became even more determined to bring her family together.

Rebecca hand wrote personal notes to each of her children, imploring them to come home for a special Mother’s Day surprise she was planning. She instructed them not to bring gifts, making certain they understood that this was not a request, but a demand. It had been many years, since Rebecca, had demanded they all be home at the same time, so she was certain that they would all come. By the week of Mother’s Day, Rebecca had put her plans into action; the house was prepared, food was ordered, and everything was going according to plan. All the children had promised to be there, even Charlee Mae. On the Wednesday before Mother’s Day, Rebecca had passed out and Jacob had to call an ambulance to take her to the hospital. Inside her purse he found a detailed letter with implicit instructions. He had been keeping quiet about her illness because she had suffered through two years of chemo and radiation and did not want to go through it again. She had instructed the doctor not to say anything to Jacob.

At the hospital, Jacob followed her instructions to the letter. He had wanted to confront her, but he didn’t want to make things worse, so he kept it to himself. He had agreed to keep quiet about her illness, then, everything changed when he found her lying on the kitchen floor, leaving him no alternative but to let the children know that their mother was dying. Now, Jacob, the new man, would have to face all his children alone, including Charlee Mae.

There I Lie

There I lie with my mouth opened

Words exploded

But instead, my loins opened

Head bowed, face swollen, Voice mute

But loins opened wider

Spirit scrambled, Heart scared

Jaw wired; Arm shattered

Yet loins still open wide

Face masked, Body bruised

God’s word is my desire

I rise, I stand

I cry, I sing, I fall

My loins still ache

But instead, I prance and I dance

Until my Spirit opens and light shines thru

Loins frees; love soothes and peace smooths’

There I lie with God’s word inside of me!

Chapter 1

Silence Is

Sitting in the dark had become a way to slow things down and cope with whatever was going on in Charlee Mae’s life. She always felt safer in the darkness, listening to her favorite music; alone with her thoughts, dressed in sweats and a bandanna hiding the fact that her zippers hardly closed, and her hair needed doing, with not a soul to judge or criticize her, with a glass of her favorite wine helping to soothe the ills of the day. ‘Yeah, a glass of good wine in my hand, feet tucked and a bowl of popcorn at my reach. It was peaceful and comforting.’

That’s why when I heard the clacking footsteps get louder, coming down the hall, but I wasn’t fast enough to turn off the music before the loud knocking warned me that whoever it was, was not about to leave if I didn’t answer the door. Only one person I knew who would dare to pound so loudly on my door, and before I could get up to open the door, she started yelling like some crazy person—Tracie Ellen Sanderson—my best friend since I moved to New York City. We became instant friends one night when she opened the door for me as I rambled around in my purse looking for my keys. She never asked what my apartment number was or any of the other stupid questions some of the other tenants had asked her. She never once looked at me awkwardly when I entered the laundry room. Not Tracie. She was the one who held me after my miscarriage.

Girl, don’t force me to use my key. Tracie said, while she continued banging on the door.

Okay, okay, I’m coming, Charlee Mae said stumbling to the door, she managed to open it before her neighbors called the police. What are you doing here? She said glaring at her friend.

Don’t play me stupid, cause I’m not, you know exactly why I’m here.

"What, were your Spidey senses tingling?

Keep it up and something else will be tingling. Retorted Tracie.

What, can’t a girl take a day to herself once in a while?

All jokes aside, are you okay?

Yes, I’m alright. I can handle this.

You look like hell. You’ve not been at work for two days and you refused to answer my texts and you’ve ignored my calls. Now tell me what the Hell is going on, or do I have to beat it out of you? Tracie said smiling at her friend.

I’ll make coffee, while you take a shower. There was nothing else she could say, so she stood up and walked towards the bathroom to shower.

Returning home after a seven-day conference in England, all Charlee wanted to do was go home and spend some quality time with Stephen. She picked up her mail and called Stephen to have him pick up something for dinner. She uncorked a bottle of wine and took a long hot bath. It seemed like it had been than an hour since she dragged herself back into the kitchen, poured a glass of wine, turned on the stereo and plopped herself down on the couch, while she waited for Stephen. It took a minute, but shed finally noticed that the condo was a bit too clean and much too quiet. She looked at the pile of mail and then looked at the answering machine, it had over 30 messages. Sharp pangs of apprehension began making her uneasy and raise the hairs on the back of her neck, she realized that Stephen had not returned her call. Something led her to pick up the mail, stopping at the large manilla envelope with no return address. Almost as soon as she opened it, she gasped at the pictures she saw. Each one showed her husband with different women in varying degrees of undress or having sex. She trembled as she dropped the disgusting pictures on the coffee table, but one stuck to her hand. Examining it more closely, she let out a blood curdling scream realizing the woman in the photo was someone she knew very, very well!!!!!

**********

I cringed when I entered mother’s room and saw the look on her face. I felt as though her eyes pierced my soul in a place I never knew even existed. I moaned audibly as it penetrated so deep that my knees buckled, my breathing became shallow, almost stopping, my heart pounded and my stomach fluttered as hot tears rolled down my cheeks, trying to brace myself for the fall I was certain to take, but I merely stumbled backwards against the door and remained upright, although my knees wobbled and I could not see grateful to have the door catch me.

To Charlee Mae, her pain was evident, and not because she could read the label on the iv-drip, but because that’s what her eyes told her. Although the room was full of family and well-wishing relatives who’d never liked her in the first place, it felt empty. Charlee Mae Mae had the feeling that her Mother was trying not ready to let go. This was the kind of pain that a child should never have to witness. This was worse than having watched their Father kicking their Mother in the stomach or punching her in the face. No, this was far worse. She watched Rebecca try to force a smile to her lips, but it was obvious that she was in more pain than anyone in the room had imagined. It seemed that the others around her bed were also unaware of the darkness that clouded her mind, darkening her eyes, adding a hue to her face that Charlee Mae Mae had never seen before, like the rings of Saturn, the blended hues circling her eyes, from dark to light, was now evidence that the lingering darkness as proof of her impending death was far closer than they were ready to believe.

Joy, Anita, Philip, Cassandra, Mark, and Joseph were milling about the room adjacent to Rebecca’s. Peter was out in the hallway holding up the wall. One at a time they would touch her hand as they stood for a few minutes at the side of her bed. Not one, single, solitary person was sitting beside Rebecca, it was though they were only interested in talking to each other more than they were concerned about what was happening to their Mother.

She couldn’t look at her any longer, so she turned her head. That look her Mother gave her was not what Charlee Mae expected to see when she looked into her Mothers’ eyes that morning. Rebecca eyes were haunting, questioning, yet full of love, at the same time. She couldn’t look at her Mother without sounding the alarm that was surely etched across her face. When Charlee tried to look away a second time, Rebecca seemed to nod, and held her eyes so that she could not look away. What is she trying to tell me? Charlee blinked, and Rebecca’s eyes opened wider. Charlee closed her eyes for just a second, then suddenly, as if Rebecca had willed her to open them, she was staring so intensely at Charlee Mae that she began to shake. It felt like Rebecca had somehow penetrated the very depths of her soul and the only thing she could do was be obedient and look straight at her Mother. Their eyes were locked-in for several seconds until her brother Joseph picked up Rebecca’s hand and began rubbing them ever so gently. It was all Charlee Mae could do not to look back into Rebecca’s hauntingly beautiful eyes.

Rebecca’s eyes quickly darted around the room, she saw many of her grandchildren and her daughters and sons. Some were pacing back and so forth, while others were staring out the window or at their feet, but not one of the was looking directly at her. She tried to follow their movements with her eyes, but no one would look at her for more than a second. They all appeared to be unaware of Rebecca’s haunting eyes following her.

What do I do? What do I say? Where do I look?

As if Rebecca knew what Charlee Mae was thinking; her doubts, her fears, all her dashed dreams and disappointments seemed to flicker in her mind as Charlee moved close enough to kiss Rebecca’s forehead. Charlee Mae held her Mother’s hand, in an instant, Rebecca had quieted her daughters’ anxieties. Charlee Mae believed that her Mother sensed that her faith was wavering, and that she would soon be consumed by her old fears and doubts that had plagued her throughout her childhood.

Charlee Mae remembered the day that she had told her Mother that she didn’t believe in God or Heaven, Rebecca didn’t say a word for a long time, and she just held Charlee and cried. Now, some thirty odd years later, Charlee felt her Mother trying to reach out and hold her tightly once again, only this time she held her with her eyes. Charlee still remembered Rebecca telling her That’s all we have is God and heaven is where God lives, everything else is but a figment of our imaginations. God is the only real thing in our lives. Charlee didn’t understand it at the time. Back then Charlee wondered how her Mother could even open her mouth to say something like that, especially after seeing her Mother being beaten within an inch of her life. Standing next to her bed, Charlee saw a look of doubt, a reluctance, a pleading, and questioning. She felt that her Mother was more concerned about how she and her siblings would survive than she was about alleviating her own pain.

Looking up at Charlee Mae, Rebecca blinked twice. It was a look that caused her heart to beat rapidly as it thrusted against her rib cage hard enough to take her breath away. Leaving her feeling like she had run a marathon. Charlee Mae, thinking to herself, I dare not grab my chest because they would all panic and think something was happening to Rebecca; that’s the last thing I want to do is scare them. Charlee felt like she was about to faint; all she could do was blink twice in answer to her Mother’s request.

I think Mother needs to rest. Let’s all go into the other room. Charlee said. And like good little sheep, they all trotted past Rebecca’s bed, each touching some part of her body or kissing her on the forehead, again, not one of them ever looked her directly into her eyes. As the others moved into the sitting room, Charlee held Rebecca’s hand, knowing that she didn’t have the slightest inkling of what Rebecca was really saying to her. She didn’t know how her Mother was feeling and neither did she know how she was supposed to act. The only thing Charlee Mae knew for certain was that her Mother was speaking directly to her heart through her eyes.

For whatever reason, she recalled the last conversations she’d had with her therapist, who asked Charlee Mae, to tell her what her parents, particularly her Mother, had taught her about being a woman. At first, she thought the question was about being female, but as she thought about it more deeply, she began to realize that the therapist was talking about how she had been treated by her parents. The insidiousness’ of domestic abuse angered her immensely with such intensity that huge, white-hot tears rolled down her face. Wiping them away with the back of her hand, she stood and loudly asked Dr. Malone, Why don’t you ask me what my Father taught me about being a woman? She shouted. She wanted to say more but the words were so tightly jammed at the back of her throat that she could not utter one word. She closed her eyes as the vision of her Mother’s bloody face came into view; all she could do was to shake her head and rub her temples.

Charlamagne Alexandria Wells, the youngest of the Wells daughters. At 43 she was going through a very painful divorce from her husband of 25 years. Knowing that she was barren had always made her feel ‘less than a woman’ and that the weight of her family fell squarely on her shoulders. Her life with Stephen cascaded out of control a few weeks before she learned of her mother’s impending death. Bailing her siblings out had become a job to Charlee Mae. She took pride in being the one able to bail them out of financial trouble without being concerned if or when they’d be able to pay her baac. Learning that her Mother was dying brought to her mind all her own failures, even causing her to doubt her relationship with God. Perhaps that is why spending so much on her nieces and nephews was her way of making up for being barren. Causing her to be acutely aware of the painful fact that all her siblings all had children and she did not, making her relationships with them precarious, unpredictable, and unstable. Instead of having a house full of children by the time she was 30, all she had was a penthouse in Manhattan, a ski house in Lake Tahoe and a weekend getaway on the Island of St. Maarten, but no children. She belonged to one of the most prestigious churches in Manhattan, but that didn’t increase her ability to have children and she was one of the most consistent contributors of the church. She regularly had dinner with the Bishop and his wife and served on many of the church’s board of trustees as well as many local social service organizations, but still children. Although Charlamagne is a talented, and dynamic fundraiser and event planner, at the end of the day, she was still barren.

Growing up in the Wells’ house, nicknames were a custom that Charlamagne, never quite understood. No matter how many times she corrected her family members, they always pronounced her name as Charlee Mae Mae. She loved her name because it somehow made her feel special. Being named after a king made her feel that she had royalty in her blood. Despite the relentless teasing throughout her elementary and high school years, she was very proud of her name. Now, all she wanted was to hear her Mother call her name one more time.

Charlamagne was now facing death at its most primal form, she was about to lose her Mother, causing her to begin questioning the direction her life had taken. Everything in her life had shifted and she felt like she was standing on quicksand. Knowing her