What Made Me A Stronger Me

By Christin Mott

Growing up in a small Florida town, the author's family and they often attended church services and followed Christ as their Lord and Savior. They also lived near their maternal grandparents, who were close friends. One day, the author's grandmother smashed her arm, leading to her mother's warning about consequences. The mystery behind a failed molestation attempt remains unsolved, the author never slept over at her grandmother's home again.

One Sunday, the author's cousins and aunt went on a trampoline ride, and the author got two hairline fractures in her right leg. After her maternal grandma passed away from diabetes, the author formed a close bond with her grandfather. The grandfather would take them shopping and share stories of his wartime experiences. Their friendship deepened with age and survived his second marriage.

A prostate tumor was discovered after one year, and the doctor operated immediately and started chemotherapy. After chemo, the patient appeared to be in remission. However, the author's grandfather began experiencing double visions on the drive home, which led to his death. The author's brother took him to appointments, and the author's step grandmother shared a room, where he took his last breath. The night he died, the sky was clear and calm, and their pastor prayed for them.

The author recalls walking in the woods near their house with best friend Starlight, where they noticed three unrelated carcasses and heard something walking behind them. They ran away, but none of their family believed them. They also remember getting a barn kitten from Starlight, named George, who was initially sweet but later became sassy due to an allergic reaction to a flea spray.

Peter got a gray and white male cat named Snowflake, who initially ignored him but eventually pounced on her. She would run in terror when Snowflake tried to play back, making her behavior funny but not funny at the same time.

The author enjoyed being in the choral group from middle school through junior year in high school, but never had the opportunity to further their instrumental knowledge. In sixth grade, they broke an ankle and had to have a pin put in, which affected their ability to learn vocally. After the choral group ended, the author continued singing in a choir, as they were part of the church's choir.

During this time, the author's brother Peter had been caught sleeping with his girlfriend and he charged at the author before the girlfriend pulled him away, the author was too scared to tell them about it. The author realizes that they should have said something about the incident, as it still haunts them.

The author recounts their experiences with clubbing, and the fun they had with friends. They were able to enjoy the company of their father Dan, who worked at a local Ford dealership. They learned how to change tires, brakes, and fix spark plugs from him. One day, they blamed a fish for eating their ice cream, which led to a heated argument with Uncle Jack.

As a senior in high school, they took an ASFAB test to determine their compatibility for the military. Despite not being a great test taker, they excelled in the mechanics section, outperforming most other students.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wolves Tavern
• Release date: Mar 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9781977273482

Christin Mott

A healthcare worker who has been through abusive relationships, marriage, divorce and continues to push forward. Bettering myself so that I can better help those I encounter by being able to empathize with them where they are. Also, became the first person in the family to graduate from college by earning a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice with a focal point in human services and earned high honors of Summa Cum Laude. Sparking my drive for more and now going after my master’s degree in criminal justice and in Public Administration. Cannot wait to see where this journey is going to lead or who this real-life story is going to resonate with. My hopes are that someone suffering finds this book and sees you are not alone.    

Book preview

Childhood

YOU KNEW YOU could not pull any fast ones as a kid growing up in a small Florida town where everyone knew you because they worked with one of your parents. My family and I often attended church services on Sundays, and Wednesday evenings growing up. We would attend services anytime the church was open. There was no dispute about attending church; religion was something imprinted in us from day one. At the age of nine, while attending VBS, I made a decision to follow Christ as my Lord and Savior. My parents always said, If our kids couldn’t come, then we’re not going. Although we knew who they were, my maternal grandparents also lived nearby, and we often walked over to their house for dinner and visits. When I went over there by myself one day, my grandmother was obviously not in a good mood and paid me no mind.

In an effort to catch her attention, I softly stroked her arm, prompting her to smack me so hard that my arm instantly flushed. My mother asked me what was wrong when I stormed out and came home in a rage. After touching Ethel’s arm, I showed her my own arm and explained who had done it. Ethel sped out of there before anyone could blink, warning her that she would face consequences if she assaulted me again. Dan and Peter had gone camping with the Boy Scouts, so Ethel and I slept over one night. Since I had Ethel with me, everything seemed to be working out. After a restless night, I was surprised to find my underpants on the floor next to the bed when I woke up the next morning. I brought it up to my mother, and she said I probably did that, but I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t sleep with mine on. We never stayed the night again after that; it’s hilarious since she insisted on saying never and I questioned them on how they had gotten there. That unsolved enigma keeps popping into my head every once in a while.

Once in a while, after church on a Sunday, we’d head over to my paternal grandparents’ house for lunch. Until it was time to leave, my cousins, aunt, and I would go on walks around the neighborhood, play tag in the backyard, and then walk down the street a block to jump on a different friend’s trampoline. One Sunday we were all on the trampoline and I got flipped off. I landed improperly, generating two hairline fractures in my right leg. It was annoying to be in a walking cast for six weeks after fracturing a bone for the first time.

How a cast can stop your leg from growing is beyond my comprehension. People would point and laugh at me, saying things like Hey, look at the short girl with the leg shorter than the other. But the difference between my left and right legs wasn’t that great. My grandparents on my father’s side and I never really got along, unfortunately.

My maternal grandma passed away from problems brought on by diabetes several years later. That was the start of my close bond with my grandfather. He would take us kids shopping and tell us tales of his wartime experiences. He would march up and down those aisles like he was still in the army. He was probably hearing the marching song in his head as he took the corners as closely as possible, like a formation.

His expression brightened whenever we imitated him, and he’d straighten his shoulders and keep going. Our friendship deepened with age and survived his second marriage. His annual checkup revealed a prostate tumor after one year. When the biopsy results confirmed malignancy, the doctors operated immediately and started him on chemotherapy. After his final round of chemo, they performed a PT scan and reported that he appeared to be in remission.

After a week or two visiting her daughter in Louisiana with his wife, he began experiencing double vision on the drive home. He pulled over and told her that he couldn’t finish the drive home. He informed her, I think it’s back, and it’s messing with my vision, when she asked what was wrong.

He called his oncologist immediately and had an appointment the next business day at which they confirmed it had come back and was in his bones now. This time, though, he looked at his wife and told her without a doubt that he knew this one was going to cause his death. Another set of treatments started; my brother took him to most of these appointments. I was a ninth-grader in high school, and we were getting ready for a chorus concert. I couldn’t attend it since my grandfather was going downhill rapidly. During his treatments, sometimes he would look up at the sky at night and say, This is a good night to fly. We went to bed that night in the late 1990s in their home, knowing his time was close. My stepgrandmother and I shared a room, and at the exact time he took his last breath, I apparently kicked her in her hip, which woke her up. Not long after that, her daughter opened the door to tell us he was gone. We all remembered his words the night he died—the sky was so clear, no clouds just darkness and stars, with cool calm breezes coming in and out. Their pastor came over and prayed with and for us.

I remember walking in the woods near the house with my best friend Starlight. Nothing unusual, just