Full Circle

By Teather Rodriguez

Full Circle is about all of the trauma and mistrust that took place in my life and how I grew from it and found the right path. Although pure anguish and turmoil encompassed me, growth occurred with God. It's about going on a seemingly hopeless journey through a rocky valley of trauma and tragedy, eventually making it to the top of the moun

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grovehouse Press Llc
• Release date: Jun 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957776262

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Full Circle

Teather Rodriguez

Copyright © by Teather Rodriguez

All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

Paperback: 978-1-957776-24-8

Hardback: 978-1-957776-25-5

Printed in the United States of America

When we come full circle there is the feeling that we have come to a familiar place but we are somehow different.

-DailyOM

Wandering through life for 40+ years, pondering every acquaintance, each decision, roads traveled, as well as dreams forgotten; life really took a toll on me. All of the pain, tears, agony, and sleepless nights; along with the joy, laughter, and memories have molded me into the woman I am right now. Through this journey, a childlike innocence will be lost, trust will be broken, deep loss will be portrayed, confusion will set in, a focused drive will take over, and the cycle will repeat many times. In the end, unconditional love is learned and all falls into place. When wandering through this life, we all eventually come full circle if we allow it to happen.

The question that remains is how will we get there? Life is full of choices. Some we make ourselves, but unfortunately some are made for us. Either way, these choices shape us. Whether we take the negative route or the positive route; we learn. These routes are the forks we come to in life.

Every major difficulty in life is a fork in the road. You choose which track you will head down, toward breakdown or breakthrough.

-John C. Maxwell

This is where my story begins with both breakdown and breakthrough.

Broken

Walking along life’s path

While facing every storm along the way

Wondering if I should keep going

Searching for the victory.

I am Broken into pieces

I am lost and need repair,

Trying to lead, not follow

Realizing life is not fair.

My Story

Tell me a true story

One of your life so real

A story that keeps going

And makes you feel.

Tell me a story

The one of your life

A heartbreaking one

That shows the strife.

This is the story

You were created to tell

The reason you live

And will not fail.

Break their hearts

Tear it to pieces

Show them the reason

They live for Jesus.

Live a life so big and full

Learn to fly and then to soar

Follow the path

Through God’s open door

A Simple Beginning

In the country of a small town, a pale house, just off of the road, seemingly plain and ordinary, was my home for the first year of my life. A home full of laughter and love until the flames of this world engulfed each memory, family dinner, and tore the house to the ground which began the journey to a not so simple life. Along the way, at the age of 4, sitting in a Sunday school class, I chose to ask Jesus into my heart. This moment became a foundation for me that never broke, but there were moments that I walked away from what I knew.

Muddled memories carve out the first 7 years of my life. A long stretch of semi-abandonment and loss immersed the empty space, leaving me drowning in fear and despair. The literal wreckage of a seemingly happy family loomed in the distance, while the reality of shattered moments filled the air.

Kindergarten is over and first grade has yet to begun. This is where my world began to unravel. Sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth, once again thinking the yelling and slamming doors are somehow my fault. I can hear my own voice on repeat, I am sorry. I am sorry…so sorry. As silent tears roll down my cheeks, I feel a gentle tug on my arm. My brother tugs again, leading me to his room to escape the roaring sound of another fight. Bugs Bunny plays on his little t.v. as I fall asleep, only to awaken to my mom breaking pictures as she packs up all of our stuff. How do you pack memories from family time in the living room or dinners in the kitchen? What about all of the moments on the front porch with countless dogs that I found wandering around? My dad had left for work and this time, when he came home, it would be empty…almost like we were never a happy family.

A new house—much smaller—still a house in the country, just minutes from my dad. Everything is different…bedtime routines, family dinners, and I can’t just walk outside to see my dad. My brother is not the same either. Anger rages through him like a volcano waiting to explode. One night is crystal clear to me and 37 years later, I still remember every detail—each smell, sound… The fighting did not stop just because we moved out. In fact, I think it became more intense. Frustrations were high. Standing in the front yard, I can hear one side of a phone call where my mom is yelling and screaming at the top of her lungs one accusation after another. As I sat down on the sidewalk, the front door slams and my brother charges toward the garage. Not realizing I was there, he kicks the fence and the gate causing it to fall. My world is falling apart and I have no clue what it is happening. Silence takes over the entire house. Watching with widened eyes as my mom comes running, but she is too late. The tires of my brother’s car squeal as he speeds away. Behind tears of pure anger and pain, my mom tells me to get in the bath. Baths were my favorite place to escape; just my imagination and me for as long as the water was warm. Prune looking hands is the sign bath time is over. Unable to safely step out of the tall bathtub, I call out for my mom.

Mom, I am finished with my bath.

Nothing but silence in return. Panic begins to set in. Being left inside alone at our old house is completely different from here. I yell again, but still no response. Carefully, I step out of the tub and wrap myself in the towel. As I wander and drip water through the dark and empty house, fear overtakes me. Thoughts are swirling in my head. What do I do? Where do I go? It’s dark outside and I am terrified of the dark. Not thinking clearly, I step onto the porch still wrapped in my towel. Then, it hits me. The neighbor’s daughter is in my class and they only live about a quarter of a mile down the gloomy dirt road. Without a second thought, I set out on my journey to not be alone and scared. Cold, barefoot, and only a towel to block out the air, I walk until I can see the front door. The lights are on.

Oh no, here comes a truck, I quietly say to myself.

I try to quickly move off of the road, but the truck comes to a stop. Before I can say a word, I am scooped up and placed inside the truck. My dad had come to my rescue. When my mom showed up at the shop without me in tow, he asked her where I was. Without hesitation, not waiting for an answer, he jumped in his truck and hauled butt to find me. Taking me home with him would have resulted in more trouble. After getting me in my jammies and grabbing clothes for school, he took me to my friend’s house where I stayed the night—finally a night free of yelling.

During the next few months, chaos was unleashed in my life. A wreck that could have ended everything when my mom tried to jump out of the car at 65 mph still haunts my memory. An explosion of cherry icy all over the dash had everyone concerned it was my blood from the bump on my head. Another wreck—a fuzzy memory—with the words that ring in my head, If I can’t have you, no one can, as the car flies into a ditch. Months of insane outbursts like tire irons on hoods as my grandpa attempted to chase my mom off of the property, not thinking what banging a tire iron, along with threats would do to me. Countless fights resulting in my mom breaking her arm after trying to jump through the truck window and gushing blood from my dad’s head as my mom hits him with a hammer occurred. One day, while driving home, we came to a halt in the middle of a dirt road, and my mom fell