Second Chances: When I Thought My Life Was a Straight up Mess; He Cleaned It Up!

By Latisha Gray

This is a story of a woman named Destiny, who thought she knew exactly what she wanted, only to discover that she really didnt know herself at all. She takes us on a journey as she struggles to find peace in the midst of a lot of bad choices and decisions. Her journey has many ups and downs, but through it all she finds not only herself; she discovers that her mistakes do not define her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781546216476

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© 2017 Latisha Gray. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/26/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5462-1648-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-1646-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-1647-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017917272

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

CONTENTS

Foreword

My Childhood…

Chapter One: I should have known

Chapter Two: 1992

Chapter Three: 1995

Chapter Four: The Time Bomb

Chapter Five: Things Get Worse

Chapter Six: A Sucker for Love

Chapter Seven: 1999

Chapter Eight: Some things never change

Chapter Nine: A Month Later

Chapter Ten: A New Attitude

Chapter Eleven: 2000

Chapter Twelve: And still some things never change

Chapter Thirteen: Late nights

Chapter Fourteen: When it’s over, it’s over

Chapter Fifteen: When will you change?

Chapter Sixteen: A new found freedom

Chapter Seventeen: The Divorce is final

Chapter Eighteen: Life After Divorce

Chapter Nineteen: A New Love

Chapter Twenty: A faithful God

FOREWORD

H ave you ever as a child daydreamed about how your life would be when you got older? Have you ever imagined the type of job you would have? Or what type of house you would live in? What number of kids you would have? I am sure we all have, I definitely did. I was going to be a family therapist, and I would have a big office on the tenth floor with a beautiful view of the city. My desk would be right in front of the window with my back facing the view. That way, as my clients talked with me, they could admire the view, as we dealt with the difficult issues in their life.

My house would be more like a modern loft. Right out of college, I would live there until I married. Once married, I would have two kids—twins, and I would be done! Unfortunately, daydreams tend to be just that—dreams. At least, they were for me. I failed to realize that for every dream or goal I had, there needed to be a plan to achieve it. And I must work that plan! Life without a plan will take you on all kinds of journeys. Some you will enjoy, others you will learn from, but most will change your life forever. This story has many bumps in the road, many ups and downs, but thankfully, God is a redeemer of time. When you think your life is over or you’ve messed up as much as you possibly can…He can give you a new beginning, a second chance.

MY CHILDHOOD…

B efore I dive into the purpose of writing this book, I think you should have a good understanding of my person and how I grew up. Born in 1977, I was my mother’s only child. She was orphaned at the age of 13 and found herself living in the city after my grandmother passed on. She was born in Atlanta, GA, and she grew up picking cotton. My mother’s two sisters practically raised her. My mother met my father in her early twenties. My parents loved each other. They lived in an apartment above my mother’s sister and her husband. My father and mother were not married when they had me, so when they both decided to make a stronger commitment to Christ, they found themselves in a peculiar place. So, they separated. See, my father resided in North Carolina most of his life. He had been in the city a short while before he was injured on the job and needed to get his disability benefits approved. Without an income, he could not afford to take care of us nor could he financially take care of himself. They decided the best option would be for him to return to his family in North Carolina until his benefits were situated and once he was stable, he would return and they would marry. While my father was away, my mother placed all her attention and focus on me—my life was good. That summer, I visited my father in North Carolina. Although I had grown up with him, he felt like a stranger to me. He had 12 brothers and sisters, most of which lived with my grandmother or visited quite often. If they were not there, their children were. The house was full of people I barely knew. Life was different down there. Everything moved at a much slower pace. My grandfather owned a penny shop that all the kids from the area would come to, to buy soda pop and candy. There was always something going on; someone laughing, joking, fighting, or playing. It was completely different from the quiet life I was used to.

One hot summer afternoon, the family was planning to go to the skating rink. My father asked me if I wanted to go, but I decided to stay in with the one cousin I felt most connected to. I guess everyone has that one cousin you shamelessly follow around (that was her). Little did I know that would be the night my life would change more than I could have imagined. As we sat around in the house watching TV, eating the leftovers my grandmother made, we heard a bang at the door. At first, we thought it was one of the many dogs my grandparents had, running into the porch furniture. But then I heard it again and another sort of muffled sound, as if someone was saying something, my cousin ran to the door, and there was one of my uncles covered in dirt and blood. He could barely stand. All he kept saying was Gilbert, Gilbert (my father’s name). They dragged him into the house, and he explained that they had been in a car accident. My father’s car was still flipped over in a ditch miles down the road.

If you have ever been to North Carolina in the country, you know that you can drive for miles and miles in the dark before you get to a gas station or even the neighbor’s house. My uncle had walked for miles to get to us. My father was still in the car unconscious and bleeding. Everyone immediately left to get him. They left me at home with my aunt and cousin. The family was in a panic. It was as if I was watching all of this in a movie. It was like I was not even there. I don’t even remember how long he was in the hospital before he passed on. It must have been only a few hours because I was never taken to see him. It was discovered that they had been drinking and a cow cut them off on the road. I began to blame my dad for his own death. How could he be so stupid, so irresponsible? Jumping over a cow, like Duke’s of Hazard…who does that? I thought My mother flew out to North Carolina the next day. That was the worst summer of my childhood.

After my father’s death, my mom was thrust into single parenthood, raising me by herself. She could no longer afford the private school I attended, so public school it was. I easily adjusted to the transition. I was never a bad kid. I think I got spanked twice in my life, and that was because I was so stubborn (I hear I get that from my dad, and one of my children, unfortunately, inherited it from me). I was a pretty smart child. I skipped the third grade and was even offered the option to skip the 4th grade. But my mother and I agreed that it would be too much of an adjustment for me. I feared leaving my friends, and she dreaded applying too much pressure. I participated in pageants and oratorical competitions, placing 1st and 2nd in each contest. That really boosted my self-esteem and self-confidence. I buried my feeling of guilt from the sexual abuse I experienced earlier in life (that’s a story for another time) and hid them behind a tough façade. Don’t get me wrong; I did not walk around trying to be physically tough, but I was very confrontational. I never wanted to let anyone get the