Safe Behind the Little Waterfall- Finding Peace and Freedom Through the Journey of Healing

By Donna Clewes

Safe Behind the Little Waterfall is an amazing memoir of healing from adversity: physical, emotional, sexual abuse, codependency, and loss. The young Donna had an alcoholic father who was emotionally and physically abusive. Donna was also sexually abused by her grandpa as a child. This decades- old secret is finally revealed in her book.
Young Donna spent her childhood desperately trying to get her mom’s love and attention. When she realized that her mom was too wounded to nurture and love her, she finally gave up. In this book she shares openly, with vulnerability and courage the process of forgiving her father, mother and grandpa.
On May 18th, 2011, Donna’s only child, her beloved daughter Jennifer Ann jumped off the high- level bridge. Donna tells of her painful journey of grief and her longing for the love of her life, in detail with honesty and a real, raw edge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donna Clewes
• Release date: Aug 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9780994788900

Donna Clewes

I was born in a small town and grew up on a farm. I was married at twenty and had our beautiful baby girl at twenty-six. Sadly, Jennifer Ann Clewes took her life on May 18th, 2011. I am proud to say that I started writing late in my life. I wrote the first paragraph of my book eight years ago and time stood still! I loved writing and that's when I knew that it was my soul's agenda. My process of writing has not been without some resistance, however. I believed that I wasn't worthy of creating and after I dealt with this false belief, I was able to move forward and find the courage to finish my book. I am very grateful for my husband Gerry who encouraged me. "Safe Behind the Little Waterfall" Finding Peace and Freedom Through the Journey of Healing, has been my baby. It took seven years to complete. My process has been both exciting and healing. My hope is that it will also be healing for all of you.

Book preview

Safe Behind the Little Waterfall

Finding Peace and Freedom Through the Journey of Healing

Donna Clewes

Copyright 2015 by Donna Clewes

Cover design by Deborah Perdue

Edited by Gerry Clewes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Acknowledgements

My most profound thank to my beloved husband Gerry for encouraging and supporting me. I am grateful for his patience and dedication in editing my book and having a strong belief in me.

My heart is deeply grateful to Jason Solowoniuk for patiently proofreading my book. Also, his encouragement and support inspired me to finish my book and speak in his class.

With all my heart, I would like to thank my therapists who have helped me: Jason Solowoniuk, Greg Robinson, and Maxine Riedel.

I appreciate these teachers for their gifts of knowledge, wisdom and enlightenment: Brandon Bays, Neale Donald Walsch, Robert Schwartz, and Esther and Jerry Hicks and the Abraham Teachings.

My deepest, heartfelt gratitude to Brandon Bays. Without her guidance, which I discovered in her book The Journey, I couldn’t have done my healing work.

I would also like to express my appreciation to my friends, who are too numerous to mention, for support. You know who you are. Thank you very much.

Table of Contents

Chapter One: Visualizing the Perfect Family

Chapter Two: Hash and Tuna Fish Sandwiches

Chapter Three: Rape and My Trauma

Chapter Four: Forgiving Grandpa

Chapter Five: Rebellious Teenager

Chapter Six: A Stolen Car and Freedom at Last

Chapter Seven: Our Beautiful Bundle of Joy

Chapter Eight: Nobody Qualifies More Than You!

Chapter Nine: Childhood Wounding Work and Becoming Authentic

Chapter Ten: I am Free! I Can Breathe Again!

Chapter Eleven: You are an Orphan

Chapter Twelve: Are You Doctor Peebles?

Chapter Thirteen: Homeless in New York

Chapter Fourteen: True Hope

Chapter Fifteen: Mom, I’m Scared to be Alone.

Chapter Sixteen: Reality and My Pain Set In

Chapter Seventeen: Jennifer’s Transition - My Transformation

About the Author

Chapter One: Visualizing the Perfect Family

The farmhouse where I grew up had a huge yard. When it rained hard, the dry dust quickly became mud, with puddles of water throughout. It was a joyful playground for a four- year- old. It had just rained the day before, and my mom dressed me in my favourite yellow and black coat and slipped on my gum boots. Then she sent me out to our wet yard to play. I was jumping and splashing in the puddles, having fun, even though I was alone. I stepped into a deep, mud hole. Both of my boots sank deep down into the mud. I tried to lift one foot out of the mud and it wouldn’t budge. Then I tried the other foot; it was also stuck. I started to cry and then scream for my mom. I am trying very hard to pull my feet out of the mud, but they just won’t move. I am still screaming loudly for my mother to rescue me. The tears are rolling down my cheeks when I look up and see my mother, with a camera! She is filming me and laughing! Eventually, my mother rescued me out of the mud, but not until she had captured her Kodak moment.

My mother loved filming all three of us as youngsters. She was obsessed with taking photos and movies. Whenever my mom showed-off her large collection of live movies, the most popular request was: Show the one of Donna stuck in the mud. Mom showed the one of me stuck in the mud; a poor little girl, feeling vulnerable and helpless. Then everybody in the room would have a good laugh.

Many years later, with the help of my therapist, I understood why I felt sad and fearful every time that request was made. It was a reminder of how hurtful it was for me to be laughed at when I was in my time of need.

I was the middle child of three, with two brothers. I remember a lot of isolation. I felt very lonely. It was a deep sense of loneliness, because I didn’t get my needs met. My dad was an alcoholic and my mom eventually, drank with him. I was very attached to my mom. Until I was six, she was the only person I felt somewhat safe with. When my mom and dad took vacations to California, I would be left with my aunt. I would cry and cry for three days, because I desperately missed my mom. When my mom finally returned, my aunt told her that, once I stopped crying, I was fine. The truth was- I wasn’t fine. I had internalized that pain.

Shortly after that, my mom started drinking with my dad. So, she went to California and never really came back. When she started drinking with my dad, things changed for the worse for me. Emotionally, my mom wasn’t there for me in any way. I no longer felt safe with Mom, and the abuse and neglect got worse. Before she started drinking with my dad, I felt protected. Now, I no longer felt safe. I can remember feeling scared all the time. There was a fear in my stomach from not knowing what was going to happen next. Mom did not know how to validate my feelings, or hold and nurture that frightened little girl.

I feel the sting of my dad’s belt on my bottom, as he is screaming Don’t you ever pee your pants again. I can feel the warmth of the pee running down my leg. He hits me with his belt four or five times before he finally stops. I am feeling a deep sense of shame for something completely out of my control. I now realize that he was taking his rage out on me. My dad’s behaviour was insane. My dad’s actions were making my problem worse. It made no sense. I was abused for peeing my pants and wetting the bed. The terror I felt, while he was beating me, was creating the problem. Now that is insanity.

I started losing control of my bladder after that experience. It seemed whenever I got excited or scared I would pee my pants. It was humiliating. When I stayed overnight at my cousin’s, I usually heard a lecture from my aunt. She would say, Make sure you go to the bathroom before you go to bed. Don’t drink any water before you go to bed. Whatever you do don’t pee the bed. I heard this just before I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep. I can still feel the wet, stinky pee on my body and on my aunt’s nice, clean sheets. I tried to keep it a secret, because I was ashamed of peeing my pants and wetting the bed.

I can still see the white and gold, lace panties hidden away in my pencil box. My mother said these panties were necessary, just in case I had an accident at school. In grade one we were all holding hands, in a circle, in the middle of the room, singing Farmer in the Dell. The circle moved slowly at first, and then it moved faster and faster. One of my classmates was laughing loudly. All of sudden, I could feel the pee rolling down my bare legs onto my cute, little, lace socks. I looked down at the floor, and there was pee everywhere. My classmates were losing their footing and they were dropping like flies. I was thinking Oh my God, I just want to disappear into the floor and pretend this isn’t really happening! I heard my friend Joan scream, The floor is all wet. Why is the floor wet? The music stopped and silence filled the room. I felt so embarrassed! A sense of relief washed over me when the teacher said, Come on class; let’s continue. The teacher didn’t care enough to inquire about what was really going on.

My mom took me to an urologist in the city once a month. He was a very kind man. He spoke softly and looked into my eyes with empathy. His wife was the nurse and receptionist. She was also very kind to me. I could feel their concern and love. I always received a dime after he finished my treatment. The treatment didn’t seem to help, however, because my parents thought it was a physical problem, when it was really psychological. It was about a little girl who was trying to survive; living with an angry, abusive father.

We never went on a real, family holiday. My dad used to say to my mom, If the kids go- I don’t! I would visualize the perfect, family holiday. I would imagine us all laying on the beach beside the ocean, the hot sun warming our skin and making us relaxed and sleepy. My mom would rub suntan lotion on my back and give me her undivided attention. She would be eager and ready to swim and play with me in the ocean. I was desperate. I wanted my family to be loving. I was always hoping, and sometimes praying, that it would happen. But all the hoping and praying didn’t bring the loving, nurturing Mom and Dad that I deserved.

My mom and dad would fly to California, in the winter, when we were in school. I can only recall one weekend trip with them. It was to a Calgary amusement park called Happy Valley. My older brother was there and sadly, what I remember most about the trip, was that my mom and dad got into a huge fight. My mom wouldn’t talk to my dad for the rest of the weekend.

I grew up on a farm. It was a huge playground, with lots of room for our imaginations to run wild. When I was allowed, I played with my cousin Sara, who lived a mile up the road. My mom and Sara’s mom were sisters. My dad and her dad were brothers; making us double cousins. I have fond memories of the fun we had, playing together. My aunt’s huge, beautifully landscaped yard was heaven to behold. Since we didn’t have a landscaped yard, it was comforting for me to sit and feel the softness of the cool, green grass. It was a great escape.

My cousin and I had awesome imaginations. We would play cut-outs. Each of us would cut out our pretend family from the Sears catalogue. We would cut out the perfect mother, father, sister and brother. We would cut out the clothing, hats, and shoes, for our families. I had a deep sense of longing and hope, that maybe, just maybe, that perfect family would really come to life. For me, it never did. I didn’t realize that there is no such thing as a perfect family. I really wanted a healthy, balanced mom and dad who knew how to nurture, support, and love me.

When my cousin and I got tricycles, we rode from my place to hers, on the gravel roads. Then we graduated to Mustang bikes, which were bikes with extended handlebars and seats that were in the shape of a banana. Our mustang bikes were identical. They were both metallic gold in colour. I was very excited, the day I got my brand new Mustang. I was really thrilled to have my cousin to share the experience with, because my brother Dwayne was three years older than me and my brother Denver, eight years younger. Neither one of them was at the age to play with me.

My dad was an irrigation farmer. There were many ditches to swim in; some deeper than others and, for a child, it was a fantasyland. My cousin Sara and I went to an irrigation ditch where there was a little waterfall. We stood with wide-eyed anticipation, staring at the crystal-clear, flowing water. We crawled up close to it and slid our bodies quickly behind it. When we got behind the waterfall, it was silent. I could reach out and touch the beautiful flow of the water. It was like being in our own little bubble; a little piece of heaven; an escape from the painful reality of my life. Nobody knew where I was, and nobody could touch me. I can still feel the serenity of being safe behind the little waterfall.

I am pretending to swim in the canal. I am feeling a sense of freedom. I look up; smiling at my cousin Sara, and say. Look at me. I am swimming as my arms touch the bottom of the canal.

She jumps in front of me, looks back and says, I can swim too!

My cousin Sara is two years younger than me. I am about ten. It is a hot, sunny, summer day. I am having fun swimming in the canal.

I run through the water, feeling the warm mud between my toes. I say to Sara, with a worrisome look, I wonder what time it is?

She said I don’t know. Sara’s sister Dianne was coming to get us. I was not ready to go. I playfully splashed my cousin and she screams Stop! Stop! and we both fall backwards into the water laughing. Sara said Do you think we could jump off the bridge?

I said I don’t know. We better not, because neither one of us can swim. I don’t want to get into trouble if you get hurt.

Dianne is standing at the top of the canal. She says Hurry up girls. I’ve got to go. I have to run an errand for Dad.

We climb up the hill. We are soaking wet and the dirt and mud is clinging to our legs and feet. Dianne looks down at our muddy legs and feet and says You girls can’t get in this brand new car- you’re filthy! Mom will kill me if you get her car dirty!

Sara asks, Well, what are we supposed to do now?

Dianne said, You girls are going to have to get in the trunk!

I looked at Dianne and said, You’re not serious? I don’t want to get in the trunk.

Dianne said, You have to!

I asked, Are you going to shut the lid?

Dianne said, Yes.

We both go to the back of the