Through the Eye of the Storm: My Journey

By Donna Criswell Owens

Lifes journeys are often unplanned, yet there is comfort in knowing God is in control. I expected to grow up, to marry, and to have children, but never expected to send those two sons to war or be diagnosed with cancer requiring a bone marrow transplant. Life is full of the unexpected and, therefore, it becomes quite a ride!

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Nov 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781490817873

Donna Criswell Owens

Donna is a loving and committed wife, mother, grandmother (just ask her), teacher, avid volunteer and friend. Her life experiences, faith and friendships enabled her to refuse to allow cancer to dictate her life. Cycling, gardening and cheering for Baltimore sports are just a few of the activities that occupy her busy life.... oh, and grandkids...  Darrell and Jared

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Copyright © 2013 Donna Criswell Owens.

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Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

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ISBN: 978-1-4908-1786-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-1787-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013921407

WestBow Press rev. date: 11/26/2013

Contents

Preface

Acknowledgements

The Introduction

Chapter 1 Journey Begins

Chapter 2 Journey To Tennessee

Chapter 3 Journey Back To Maryland

Chapter 4 Journey Into Marriage

Chapter 5 Journey With Children

Chapter 6 Journey Into Teaching

Chapter 7 Journey Into An Empty Nest

Chapter 8 Journey With Cancer*

Chapter 9 Journey Since Transplant

Chapter 10 Journey Yet Unseen

Epilogue

Family Pictures

Bibliography

This book is dedicated to my husband, Michael, my sons, my daughters-in-law and my grandchildren. You are my inspiration.

Preface

W ith life we are given a special gift of memory. Memories are a treasure and remember that today’s experiences are making tomorrow’s memories. Memories can change form slightly from childhood to adult. Not all memories I have as a child may have actually been as large as they appear on these pages. Memories help us recall the journey and perhaps see some lessons the journey has taught. God has been and continues to be good to me. I am blessed with great family and friends and many loving memories. Not all who crossed my path on this journey will be named, but all who did have had an impact on my life; some known and some unknown. Some of the names may have been changed. Some joined for the entire trip and others in and out along the way. For all of you, I am thankful.

Life is full of adventure, sorrow, everyday living, excitement and the mundane. Lessons are always to be learned and the wisdom to confront every day only comes from God. This is my history, my life, my inheritance, my legacy that I pass on to my family. Gratitude for it all, good along with the bad, is what I want to convey through my journey. From my childhood, marriage, children, grandchildren, war, cancer, and transplant, this is from my perspective encircling many along the way.

Typically a journey begins with a conscious plan. An idea, an itinerary, and a couple of bags packed with anticipated needs necessary to fulfill the journey. Not so with my journey, as it begins with personal accounts from others and some court records that would verify its beginning as I fail to remember the start of this journey, and most of this journey is unplanned on my part. My desire is that you see the thread of God’s hand through my journey.

Psalm 121 NKJV

I will lift up my eyes to the hills, from whence comes my help? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth. He will not allow your foot to be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is your keeper. The Lord is your shade at your right hand. The sun will not strike you by the day, nor the moon by night. The Lord shall preserve you from all evil; He shall preserve your soul. The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in from this time forth even forevermore.

Acknowledgements

M y parents receive the first acknowledgement for bringing me into this world and for all their influences that pointed me in the right direction to become the person I am today. From their perspective, I hope that I have made them proud more often than disappointed.

A special thanks to those who endured the rough copies, gave their criticism, and helped with the editing, especially my sister-in-law, Charlotte. A big thanks to my husband, Michael, who helped me fulfill this dream and for his organizational skills over the years that allowed me to keep all the dates in order.

Thanks, also, to my sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren. All of you kept me going through the journey and provided much of my writing material.

Thanks to my family, friends, and acquaintances along the way that have participated in my life and gave direction whether they realized this or not.

The Introduction

T he storm began off the coast of western Africa and barely anyone noticed. It slowly churned its way across the Atlantic until one day, as a completely organized storm, it appears on radar and the preparations begin. The preparations for this event were small. The majority of the East coast and certainly not the rest of the world would scarcely notice as this small, yet familiar action makes its way north.

Imagine those twists and churns as those in the eye of the action are only slightly aware of greater action on the edges of the storm. No one expected its beginning, and no one could predict its path or its end. Over the course of the storms’ history many are affected. Some are only slightly nudged and for a short amount of time. Others are carried the length of the churning, and still some are affected as recent newcomers. All are connected by the beginning, the birth of an event. Storms have beauty, excitement and a drawing, yet can stir fear and wonder as they create adventure and intrigue. They have a beginning and an end. Yet the eye of the storm remains calm even as its energy spreads, and the circles grow.

This is life. No matter how insignificant the life, it has an impact on those surrounding it. Stepping out of the eye is chaos, but in the eye is relative peace. A greater power, a hand, a guide has it all under control. There is a plan even in the dark times as well as the bright ones, and that plan will come to fruition. Now we follow this small blip on the radar of life… through the eye of the storm.

Chapter 1

JOURNEY BEGINS

A ccording to my birth certificate I was born into the Criswell family on December 16, 1952 as Donna Lee Criswell. The name, Donna, means Lady but as you will see that no matter how hard Mom tried, I was a tomboy. God had me on His mind long before that day and made me according to His specifications. Psalm 139 comes to mind as we are all fearfully and wonderfully made. My parents were only eighteen years old when I arrived. Even in those days there would have been other options. I am certainly thankful for the chance to give this life a whirl! As I entered kicking and screaming, so I would like to depart in equal manner, but of such things we have no control.

Even though I cannot seem to remember much of those early days, I have been told many stories. We were living on the third floor of Pop Pop and Nee Nee Criswell’s farm house. Supposedly my dear Daddy said upon my birth, It’s a dumb ole girl! I guess that statement has something to do with my becoming a tomboy, just to prove that girls were not DUMB! I was also the FIRST grandchild on both sides of the family. From my present vantage point as a grandmother, I now realize I had it made!

I was born in Havre de Grace, Maryland and delivered by Dr. Neil Taylor of Rising Sun, Maryland. My Mom remembers seeing the holly tree at Jackson Station on the way to the hospital, and now it always reminds me of my birth day. I guess it took her mind off the pain and my impending birth for a few minutes, and I have wondered how she could focus on a tree. Ready or not world here I come!

One of those early stories include a terrible thunder storm in which I had been left sleeping on the third floor while everyone else huddled on the first floor. My Dad’s cousin’s (Janice) husband, Ellis Leatherwood, came to the third floor to make sure I was okay and still sleeping. It is nice to know someone cared. Remember, I was the first grandchild on both sides of the family, and I was spoiled.

By the time I was two, Mom said I suddenly had an imaginary friend named Debbie. Debbie did everything with me. She listened and obeyed me, we sat a place at the table for her, she slept in my room, and she hung around until my sister, Lynn, was born. Then she disappeared as quickly as she came. I only regret she did not stay around long enough to teach my new sister some of those good habits, such as listening and being obedient to me! Lynn soon became my playmate and friend most of the time. Cultivating a friendship with your siblings is wise. Siblings are the best friends you can ever have. Siblings know you well and, typically, forgive easily. It is too bad we do not realize this when we are kids. Lynn was born when I was three years old, and we have had our moments, but I would defend her against anyone who tried to hurt her. Siblings often have a love/hate relationship, share secrets, and know details that no other person knows.

My Dad said I would often sit on the couch or chair and tap my foot to a song or beat that only I heard. During this time frame, I was entered in a beauty contest and won. Perhaps it was with the help of the cute dog named Good Boy that I pushed in a baby carriage. Life was good.

Mom taught me many fun things such as nursery rhymes, verses and songs and even how to jitterbug. I can sing many of those songs until this day and have taught them to my children. One little song that is still special, which I now sing to my grandchildren now and, hopefully, many other grandchildren in the future, is the following:

"I love you a bushel and a peck

A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck

A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap

A barrel and a heap and I’m talking in my sleep about YOU!"

(Taken from Guys and Dolls)

This song is always followed by You are my favorite Aiden in the whole wide world

OR

You are my favorite Eli in the whole wide world

OR

You are my favorite Liza in the whole wide world

Every child loves to be talked, sang, and read to as often as possible. Never pass up the opportunity to read a good book, teach a new song, or tell a good story to a child. It is valuable time for you both. Story time is always snuggle time. I loved curling up on Mom’s lap for a book. I always enjoyed reading books to our boys and, now, to the grandchildren. Multiple Golden Books and countless other books have become favorites over the years to our sons and, in recent years, grandchildren. These books still line our book shelf. Michael, too, spent many evening hours reading to our sons. Books can take you to a wonderful world. As they grew older, Michael read C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia to the boys. They were enjoyed as children for their wonderful stories and, although the symbolism was often too deep, they quickly picked up on Aslan and who he was in the story. Find a good book and read to a child in your life as it is not time wasted.

The Criswell farm included about 157 acres, so it kept everyone very busy milking cows, planting and harvesting crops and the countless other chores that filled each day. I remember very little of actually living on the farm, but recall many memories of farm days. Things like visiting my Great Nana who lived on the first floor in a little apartment come to mind. I loved to eat bananas and her homemade ginger cookies with her. My fond memories of my Nana are why when my grandchildren came along I wanted to be called Nana. Plus, Nana is so easy to say that they learn to speak it quickly. Most of my memories are from later years, as we visited the farm often. Dad had decided that farming was not for him, as he was a mechanic, and he started working at the Zion Garage. We left the farm and moved to several different houses; the one in Rising Sun, Maryland on Main Street is where I remember the biggest snowstorm ever. It was higher than I, at three feet deep, and Daddy threw me in a snow drift. Later we moved to an apartment on Cedar Farm where memories of Mom and Dad’s friends; Claude and Jane, Frank and Ruth and Peggy and Earl are all connected in my memory. Earl brought home a silk outfit for me from Japan as he was returning from the Korean War, and I have stayed close to Peggy and Earl over the years. Remember, my parents were just kids themselves and they spent much time with their friends. Their friends were important to them and those high school friends were always there. We later moved to a house Dad and Mom bought in Zion, the perfect little village. Driving or riding my bike past the farm on England Creamy Road today still makes me smile because the memories are sweet. My injuries, as I recall, were few. Bumps and bruises are just a part of childhood. The most major injury as a little girl on the farm was cutting my right thumb on the grinder used to sharpen knives. Not a bad record for farm living. I loved riding the tractor with Pop Pop, and he taught me the shocking truth of an electric fence. Pop Pop was a happy man and liked to sing. He would often sing this song to me.

"Did you ever go afishin’ on a hot summer day,

and sit on the bank just passin’ time away,

with your hands in your pockets and your pockets in your pants,

and watch the little fishes do the hoochie coochie dance?"

(Author unknown)

Pop Pop always kept that bald head under a cap, wore a smile, and walked with a distinct bend from the years of hard work.

Farming was such hard work requiring 24/7 commitment, yet it was just the way life was. The milking twice a day, plowing, planting and harvesting plus all the maintenance chores and feedings made for hard, but rewarding work for my Pop Pop and the family. The garden was sizeable and required much work to keep the weeds from overtaking the plants. We ate well all year as a result of the garden with the canning and freezing of the harvest. Chicken killing day was another event to remember. Chopping off their heads, dipping them in boiling water, plucking their feathers, cleaning out the guts, and then preparing them for the freezer usually took an entire day. The few, who ran around after their heads were chopped off, made the day extra exciting. It seemed to me that they ran quite far sometimes without a head! Newborn calves, bailing hay and hundreds of farm kittens were included in farm living. The farm was a part of my life until my grandfather retired and sold it when I was a teenager.

My Mom was born Thelma Lee Clark on September 15, 1934. She is one of five children born to Fred and Mary Clark. Pop Pop Clark helped to build the Conowingo Dam on the Susquehanna River in Conowingo, Maryland. He was a proud man from Baltimore who met Mary Elizabeth Crothers while living in Conowingo as he worked on the dam. Construction of the dam was very hard work as you can imagine. Fred married Mary after ordering a diamond from Cracker Jacks. It is a real diamond and Mom Mom later gave it to my Mom. Pop Pop caused some rough days for Mom and her family over the years. God did change his heart a few years before he died and my sons remember him quite differently. He still could be gruff, such as when he yelled, shut the door, but now he did it with a smile. During Mom’s childhood, Mom Mom and the children found their way to church through CM Jones, Pastor Walter Burcham and a church in Conowingo. Mom Mom was quite a lady and hard worker. Actually, she was a happy lady and enjoyed teasing, causing mayhem, and just having fun enjoying life with her family and many friends until her death in 2001. Everyone loved Mary Clark. She was a true people person who loved taking care of others as she demonstrated throughout her life. Later in life when others are considering retirement, Mom Mom got her driver’s license and worked at Calvert Manor Nursing Home. She enjoyed taking care of the old people as she would say.

Dad, Harold Donald Criswell, known as Donnie, Don, or Harold, if you are trying to visit him in the hospital in this decade, was born to Harold and Mildred (Sartin) Criswell on September 29, 1934. He was a tiny