Like everything in life, Ruin had a beginning. I remember the day I began to build her; I was seven years old. When my parents divorced, we moved into a different neighborhood. It wasn't better than the other, just a different set of the same kind of people.
Shyness was not a weakness, which worked in my favor-most times. But this day was different. It was the day that I met Lizzy-and the day Ruin was born. We met in the morning. Her brother was the leader of the local gang. It should have been my first clue, but I was clueless at seven-silly me.
Later that evening, Lizzy knocked on my door and asked if I could come out. I was so excited, I ran to the bedroom to tell my mom I was going out to play with my new friend. "Have fun, be safe", she says. Without a thought, I walked outside and skipped ahead of her. This was my first mistake. In an instant, my head was pulled back, and I was thrown to the ground. Before I knew it, Lizzy was sitting on top of me, hitting me with a punch that showed she had training. She wailed on me for what seemed like an eternity. After the shock wore off and the tears started flowing, I realized my only hope was to start punching back while kicking her in the back with my knees. It was then that the cheers came. "Finally a fight", they were yelling. I don't know why or how we stopped, I'm pretty sure her brother called it off. You see, it just happened to be Lizzy's initiation day. What a proud day for her; she was eight years old and now in control of all the kids in the apartment complex.
Never again will anyone catch me by surprise and humiliate me--this was my vow and so began the life of Ruin. So this is the way life works, hurt others before they hurt you and never trust anyone. And then I understood the saying, "Screw me once, shame on you--screw me twice, shame on me--A hard lesson for a child.
Ruin fast became my best friend. She was my security; she was my freedom; she was my prison-and I loved her.
With my new set of eyes, I saw things clearly. In addition, with clearer vision came better hearing and wisdom. I learned how to read people. I could anticipate just about everything and I prided myself in being right. Have you noticed I am using the word "I" a lot? At this point in life, what else mattered?
BRICKS AND MORTAR
It was our weekend to be with our father. He had been remarried for a time. I am unsure of how long, but long enough to gain a little sister who was two or three. "We are taking a trip", my father says. We were excited! The car was packed and off we went. The trip quickly turned into a disaster; as I had grown accustomed to being alert, I was the only one who noticed that my father was falling asleep at the wheel and the cigarette had fallen somewhere between the seat and the door. While everyone else was laughing and singing to the music, I reached over him and grabbed the steering wheel to keep us from running off the road. Upon doing this, my father woke and everyone was instantly silent. "I'm just tired sweetheart." "Gee, could it be all the beer you've been drinking? And don't call me sweetheart-I'm not your sweetheart! I am Teresa."
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Sin is an interesting thing. It has the ability to listen, watch, and learn. It feeds off the weakness of the individual it pursues and then feeds it right back. For my father, it was addictions and extreme mood swings; for me it was the anger, the pride and the need to be self-sufficient. Which reminds me, this same weekend, my mom was bullied into throwing her furniture away, and using her new boyfriend's. (How convenient for him.) I was so angry and stubborn. I refused to sit on it--and I didn't for at least a month, my mom would later tell me. How silly. Nevertheless, this is what sin does; it drives us to do something that in the end, only causes shame and makes us feel stupid. What point did not sitting on the furniture make? How did it effect change in my world? It makes me laugh now; O' how I wish that were the worst thing my pride and self-sufficient attitude would have me do.
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I'm not sure what time it was when I was awakened by a scream coming from the hotel bathroom. "What is going on?" My older sister was on the phone looking for dad, my brother went to the vending machine because we were hungry, and I ran to the bathroom to find out who was screaming. It was my little sister. She had gotten into the soap and it was all mushy. Her hair, hands, and eyes were covered with it. "Where is dad?' I yelled. "How am I supposed to know?" My sister yells back. It didn't take us long to realize that my father and step-mother did not come back to the hotel room all night.
We hadn't been at the hotel for very long when they told us that they were just going to have "a few drinks" and they would be back shortly. At that point, we thought it was kind of cool. They trusted us to be alone in the hotel room in Las Vegas all by ourselves! What a treat! I was 10 by now, so it wasn't as if we couldn't handle a couple of hours. Unfortunately, this was all night and a completely different story.
Ruin was now higher and thicker than ever before. At 10 years old, I was becoming quite the street-smart kid.
I don't want to paint too bad of a picture, we did have some good times as well. For instance, I loved to go shooting. I was quite the shot with my father's 22-rifle. I would love it when I could hit the can just before it hit the ground repeatedly until I emptied the rifle. I also remember when we would listen to the Door's all the way to and from the desert. "Riders on the Storm" and "People are Strange" come to mind--those times were great.
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Forgiveness is an interesting thing. Before our relationship was restored, I couldn't remember any good times at all. I would have sworn with all the pride and confidence I had that there was not one good memory to be had as a child when it came to him. Now I remember many fun times, though sadly, fewer than I wish. This too, is another consequence of divorce. Nevertheless, I cling to those desert trips and on occasion I listen to the Doors just to savor the memory.
When I first spoke to my dad about writing this story, I wasn't sure how he would respond. He is honored that I feel God has worked such a miracle that I wanted to share my story--and this is what it is. I readily admit, he is a big part of it. Nevertheless, I want it to be clear; they were my choices. He was just a convenient excuse.
As I mentioned earlier sin is an interesting thing. Building Ruin was my choice and she almost destroyed me. Until God pulled out His hammer, that is.
"But where sin abounded; grace abounded much more, that as sin reigned in death, even so grace might reign through righteousness to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Romans 5:20
There is hope for peace. There is hope for freedom from our personal prison; it cost Jesus His life, it cost us our surrender.
To be continued…
© Teresa Ortiz My Father
