My Soul Is Resting

By K.M. Chinwe

At the suggestion of a close friend, 36-year old Katherine Williamson began to write her memories down on paper. She was experiencing a troublesome period in her life stemming from a divorce from her husband of fourteen years. She found that she was at a psychological standstill and through the patience and understanding of her family, the closeness of five friends and faith in her God, Katherine was able to move on to the next phase of her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 18, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465375766

K.M. Chinwe

Author bio: K.M. Chinwe is a fiction writer with a background in public relations. This is her first published novel and it deals with coming through a painful divorce victorious. It took years for Ms. Chinwe to finish her story but she believes that her story could be a positive vehicle of healing for other women in similar situations. She believes strongly in hope, faith, confidence which are tools needed for the basic human nature of survival. Ms. Chinwe is an Elder at her church, employed at a Financial Institution and resides with her family in Pennsylvania.

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Copyright © 2011 by K.M. Chinwe.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011917901

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4653-7575-9

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4653-7574-2

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4653-7576-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

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CONTENTS

Chapter One Potluck

Chapter Two The Makings Of Katherine

Chapter Three Childhood Memories

Chapter Four The Head of the House

Chapter Five Truly the Head of the House

Chapter Six A Tormented Marriage

Chapter Seven The Domino Affect

Chapter Eight The Showdown

Chapter Nine Moving Forward

Dedication

I am dedicating this book first to God for his grace and mercy; to my family especially my daughters and my soul mate for their constant support; to my church family and circle of Potluck friends who listened and didn’t judge; to my granddaughter who can praise sing an ant out of depression; and to my grandson for designing this inspirational cover. Thank you and I love you all.

CHAPTER ONE

Potluck

For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he (Proverbs 23:7)

Thank goodness I had the God-given sense to pay attention to the free gifts my Creator sent to me from the heavens and found that in my short walk on this earth the best things in life are free. These glorious gifts flow down to me in the forms of constant hugs and kisses from my daughters, the fragrant smell in the air after a spring rain, new flower buds poking their heads through the dirt and the sounds of neighborhood children and my own children running freely through the streets on a summer day. I found that my gifts afforded me the opportunity to stare in wonder at the vibrant color of the trees in the fall and to feel the briskness in the air that summons winter. And I could not possibly deny the beauty of newly fallen snow and the sound of it crunching under my feet. Yes, I learned during my short walk on this earth that these free gifts are supposed to keep me grounded and appreciative. Sure I love the very thoughts of life as it should be. I just have a problem these days focusing on my particular life in general. These days I cannot decide if I am mourning the death of my marriage or if I am in a self-induced coma about the future of my family and finances. Either way my focus and decision making process is off-kilter. Much to my chagrin, I flip flop between so many stages of my emotions—anger, denial, depression and a fleeting moment of happiness and they can grace my presence all in the same day.

At this moment I am standing squinting through the mini-blinds in my living room window in a meditative state sipping slowly on a steaming hot mug of coffee and it’s not decaf either. I need the rush of caffeine plus the four scoops of sugar and smidge of cream to jump start me. This is my ritual. I get up early before the girls get up so I have a bit of me time. Even on the weekends I like to rise early in order to watch the rest of the world wake up. It’s one of my favorite things to do. It’s not that I am being nosey I am just curious at how others wake up and live their lives since my own is so pathetic these days. Today, the weather outside is already hot and humid and it’s only eight o’clock. My first impulse on this very day as it was most mornings lately was to kill myself but as usual I couldn’t think of how to do it without causing emotional turmoil for my four daughters. Suicide, I told the voices in my head on numerous occasions is selfish and cowardly but that didn’t stop those voices prompting me to proceed. To shut them up, I decided to take a twenty-minute cool shower then drying off under the ceiling fan in the bedroom. Usually, the shower was successful in cleansing my outer body but my soul remained depressingly unclean. I could almost feel the smudges of soot smearing my soul like you would smear stain on a table with a soft rag. After my shower, I decided on some khaki shorts, a white cotton t-shirt and my favorite soft blue downy slippers. No bra today! It’s too hot to be bound to anything else so I tossed it across my unmade bed. My mood swings could change at a moments notice and just that quickly they had changed from the thoughts of suicide to a more positive disposition as I bounced down the stairs. The change in my mood I am positive was because the sun was shinning so I was determined to hurry and enjoy the sights and sounds of this summer day. I tell the positive voices that are now skipping through my mind, just one day at a time. But try as I might, even focusing on the brilliance of the sun, the flowers and the clouds in the sky, the curse of that dark cloud still loomed directly above my head like a defective halo. As I once again looked through the blinds to the outside I could feel the detachment between my mind and my body. My body felt alien to me. It was still upstairs slumped over on my unmade bed feeling sorry for itself. I could feel the sense of depression flowing through my skin to the very depths of my being eating away at it like an incurable disease and if I didn’t push my way through, it would consume me. That was the battle. Not to be consumed. It couldn’t win. I couldn’t let it win! My babies needed me.

Snap out of it, I told myself and tried again to shake off the gloom by taking notice of nature. The summer trees were in full bloom and the flowers in my yard were vibrant with colors of purples, blues, reds and yellows. I love playing in the dirt when I have extra time. I feel productive and content and it seems make the flowers happy too. It’s amazing what planting flowers and pulling weeds does for my disgruntled attitude. Around mother’s day, the girls and I make it a tradition to visit a nursery as a field trip and buy summer flowers to plant. This year we picked burnt orange chrysanthemums, red dahlia, day lilies, gladiolus, violet heather, impatiens and hosta plants. We plan a day of gardening then afterwards we clean up, I get a blanket and make some sandwiches, with potato chips and lemonade and we have a picnic outside on the grass admiring our work.

As I turned my attention again towards the sky, the sun was already high and too intense to look at directly. The sky was as clear as a piece of expensive crystal and it was surrounded by perfect white puffs of clouds. The birds were singing to the tops of their voices quite oblivious to my unpredictability and there was a dog barking in the distance. The only human presence outside at the moment was my neighbor across the street who was up and already washing his car.

It was early summer, 1986. The very last week of June to be exact, and it was a vacation week for me. Vacation? Hmmm This vacation was going to give me too much time to think. As I stood looking through the window I was completely aware of what was causing my depression and my thoughts of suicide. And the fight not to succumb to it continued.

Snap out of it, I told myself again. Get your mind back to reality and the present moment. I finished the last sip of my second cup of coffee, and went into the kitchen to rinse out the mug and at the same time swatted a trail of tiny black ants on the kitchen counter with a piece of rolled up newspaper then wiped their little carcasses into the garbage. While doing that I remembered a list of things to do on this week of vacation and buying ant traps was number one on the list. No matter how clean I kept the kitchen these little nuisances appeared every summer for a visit and I had promised them last summer an instant death if they ever came back and I intended to keep my word. Death for them was inevitable.

Scrawled on the bottom of the same list in a child’s handwriting was a trip to the water slides park across town. I managed a smile, turning an interest toward my daughters. We have four—Kaelin is twelve. Kamari is four years younger and eight years old. Kadin is six and Kai is three. They seemed at the moment to be the only reason to stay alive. I pulled the phone book out of the kitchen drawer and looked up the number to the park. I sat at the kitchen table and listened to the recorded message about the dates, times and fees. Hello, the recorded male voice said. If you are calling about admission prices, press one; if you are calling… I immediately pressed one and successfully disconnected that portion of the voicemail. I continued through the process until the information I needed was available. "Twelve-fifty