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In Care Of?

In Care Of?

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In Care Of?

152 pagine
2 ore
Oct 7, 2011


This is a story about the life of only one child, who spoke out and asked for help and didn't receive any. It is about a family that was torn apart by one person's unfaithfulness and infidelity. It's also about the children who are often forgotten and most always abused. What happens to the children when a family is torn apart by divorce.
Oct 7, 2011

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In Care Of? - Courtney Knox


© 2011 by Courtney Knox. 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.

First published by AuthorHouse 10/03/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4670-3949-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-3948-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-3947-5 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011917138

Printed in the United States of America

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.

I would like to extend my special thanks and appreciation,

to all whom have helped me tremendously,

in this my first endeavour, as a writer.

First and foremost, my husband James, for I believe without him, this book would not have been written! Also, my wonderful son Matt, for all his input and his creative interjections. Authorhouse, for all their help. And lastly my best friend Bill, who knows how much, he helped. They are all a crucial part of my moral support team.

I’VE DEDICATED THIS book, to my husband, James, my most amazing man in the whole world, For without him, this book would not have been possible. He gave me Love, understanding, support and most of all; he gave me the courage that I needed to write it.

As well I also would like to dedicate it to my two wonderful children, for whom, without them, I believe that my life might not have been. They gave me the strength to carry on and the need to go on. They are all as important to me as the breath that I breathe. I love you all, with all my heart, forever, now and always, no matter what.

This is a story about the life of only one child, who spoke out and asked for help and didn’t receive any. It is about a family that was torn apart by one person’s unfaithfulness and infidelity. It’s also about the children who are often forgotten and most always abused. What happens to the children when a family is torn apart by divorce?

Family is about who we are in life and if we don’t have family, then who are we and what do we have? Where do we go? Who do we become? Who can we trust? Who do we turn to; when there is no one there you can trust? Who will take care of us and keep us safe? Who will keep us safe?

These questions and so many more, is what were in my head, on a day to day basis. These are the kinds of things that I would worry about and so much more, as a child of ten. Although my insecurities started way before the age of ten, and that is quite understandable, being that I was born in a dysfunctional family.

Everybody seems to forget about the children. When a relationship falls apart, so does the family. Sad, but true, and again, what happens to the children? Well, I can only tell you my story as I saw it. And only through my eyes!

I know that this book will shock a lot of people and surly offend others. But only know that I did not write it to hurt anyone. I wrote it for me and I wrote it for all the other adults and children going through or that have gone through, somewhat of the same ordeal. I want you all to know, that if you seem to be alone and that it seems that no one is listening to you, remember that, you do have the strength in you to go through whatever is necessary! Be strong, and believe in yourself. Believe that one day it will all be ok, and remember this one important factor,

"If God brings you to it,

He’ll also carry you through it."

This was one of my dad’s sayings and I always repeated it to myself when things got unbearable, or when things seemed to be really bad.

It can only get better and know as well, that it could always be so much worse!

No matter what, this statement is so true. That’s just how I saw my childhood, as an ordeal.

ANYHOW, HERE IS my story.

Silent cries from victims eyes,

Whose tears have dried up long ago?

I do not dwell,

For the past was hell,

And left it all behind me,

I now look ahead,

For the past was dead,

And the future is where I’m headed,

So, don’t cry for me,

Just let it be,

For I can smile once again!

Written by, My Son

MY NAME IS Courtney Knox and I was born in 1958, in small town of Sudbury, Ontario, Canada. In fact, it is the Nickel Capital of the world.

My mother’s name, as I knew it, was Carmelita. She was born in 1932 in a small town named Blind River, Ontario, Canada. Her father’s name was Stewart and her mother’s name was Stacy.

My grandmother Stacy died at a very young age, and I am assuming, that she did not get to know her very well. My mother didn’t really say much about her, except that she was a kind and soft spoken woman.

My Mom said that after her mother passed away, her father remarried this woman named Gretchen. My Mom knew by the look in her eyes that she had the demon in her. She also stated that she was the wicked step mother of all times. Gretchen was really mean to her and my mom had felt as though she was not wanted around, nor did she feel that she was liked by her, let alone, loved!

My mom really didn’t say much about her, other than what I have mentioned and maybe a few other things. Obviously, she did not want to bring it up, for one reason or another, and by the sounds of it, I can’t say that I blamed her.

My mother also told me that her father was also a drunk and a son of a bitch and he and his new wife, mentally and physically abused her. As well her own dad repeatedly raped her, on many occasions in her youth. My mom was not even loved by her own dad. At least not the way a Daddy should love his little girl. I didn’t find any of this out though, until my mother told me, when I was in my late thirties. So this was why she was always running away from her home! She was trying to find a safe house for her to go to and it surely was not her own.

Of course, I was shocked when my mom told me about all this, but it did explain a lot of her wandering ways. Whenever I would question her about her past, she’d say to me, Let sleeping Dogs Lie. Then, pretty much the subject was never brought up again. They were both dead, her father and step-mother, so it really didn’t matter much anymore to my mother and she figured that there just wasn’t any point in hashing it all up.

My father’s name was Leonard Knox, born 1915 in Waverly, Liverpool, England. I wasn’t told much about his parents except for the fact that his mom died on the operating table when he was very young and that his father was killed by mustard gas in the First World War.

My father and his siblings were raised in an orphanage. There were six of them, four boys, and two girls. One of their sisters was predeceased by the time that they came to Canada and her name was Patty-Lynn I don’t know what happened to her. Just for the fact that she once existed.

My father and his siblings came to Canada by the way of the Catholic Church. After, their parents had passed away. There was now no-one to help take care of them, so, they all ended up in the orphanage. I’m told that’s how and why my Aunt Christine became had a Nun, and also, My Uncle Patrick became a brother of the church. I assume it was because they did spend so much time with the members of the church, and as well the nuns and priests were the ones who ran the orphanage.

They were all asked to join the church on numerous occasions. So, the Catholic Church did end up recruiting two out of five siblings. That’s pretty good statistics, I’d say. They spent a large portion of the young lives in and out of different orphanages.

Then with the helping hands of the Catholic Church in the 1930’s they arrived by boat. They did not all arrive in Canada together but they did meet up later.

My story continues,

My Mother and Father were married in 1954 at a small catholic church in a quaint Northern Ontario town. As I was told, my mother was a resident of our local town Convent for quite some time.

The convent was run by the Nuns as a home for girls who wouldn’t or couldn’t obey the rules and regulations of everyday life. The disobedient girls, the girls who just wouldn’t listen, the uncontrollable ones, It was a convent for girls that the court would appoint to go and on a rare occasion for the girl who just had nowhere else to go.

My mom for some reason was having a heck of a time at home, and was being abused by her father and step mother, so, yes I am sure she really did not want to stay with them and because of the constant abuse she was always running away from her home of destruction and the police would always bring her back. Back to her HELL on earth!!

That’s actually how she ended up at my aunt Jessica’s home. My mom ran there and asked if she could live with her. My Aunt agreed to let my mom stay with her and Uncle Berry and their four children. Only under the condition that she didn’t cause them any trouble. My Aunt Jessica had a lot of her own problems to deal with, and she really did not need any of my mother’s games, that was for sure.

My Uncle Berry was no prince charming. He was a mean and nasty drunk. Anyhow, she figured she had to give my mother a try; after all she was her sister. So she did let my mother stay with them, but shortly after my mother,s arrival there were too many problems with my mom. My aunt Jessica said that she couldn’t control her and that my mom just wouldn’t listen to anyone or anything period. She also said that she was always being brought home by the police, for one reason or another.

I was told that my mom wasn’t a really bad child; she just did not want to go to school. For she had her own agenda and it mostly involved men. My Aunt Jessica said she was always being caught by the police in the company of the opposite sex. Well, what would anyone expect after what her own father taught her. I always wondered about the way that she loved men, and I understand it now, O so well!

When an adult sexually abuses a child, whether they want to acknowledge it or not, it’s like a contagious disease and it most always spreads like a wild fire and probably as fast. They would all say, All she had to do, was to go to school on a regular basis, and she couldn’t even do that.

So that’s when my Aunt Jessica said that she had no other choice, that it was the convent or jail for my mother. My Aunt Jessica told me that she couldn’t see my mother in jail, nor could she put her there. So she chose the convent for her. Well it was actually the courts that had given my mother the ultimatum. My Aunt let her decide where she wanted to go. She had no other choice now. So that’s how my mom ended up in the convent for girls.

I am not going to justify anything that my mom did or did not do, but I do know that she had one hell of a childhood. With no one there to take care of her and no one there to love her. The nasty cycle continues and my story goes on.

Once my father came to Canada, he was hired by the nuns, to help maintain the building and the property of the Convent. Basically, he was to take care of everything and anything that needed fixing. In return for his services, my dad was given a small house at the back end of the convent for himself. It was not much but it was a roof over his head. He also got paid some money for his hard work so that he could buy the everyday necessities that he needed.

The Convent is where my mother and father met. My mom now lived here and my dad worked here. I’m sure it didn’t take my mother long to notice my father. Knowing my father, if my mom gave him any special attention, he most likely fell madly in

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