Rummaging Through Boxes Today That I Had Packed Up When I Moved Here To Marks, I Came Across Something That I Had Totally Forgotten About. My Journal. I Began This Journal When I Was 22 Years Old. Alot In My LIfe Has Happened Since Then. Some Wonderful Moments....Some Not So Wonderful. But, Everyone Has That In Life. I Had Given This Journal A Title. It Is Called "They Shoot Fat QUEENS Don't They?" I Had Borrowed The Title From The Designing Women Episode Called "They Shoot Fat Women Don't They?" I Wonder Now, What In The World I Was Actually Thinking When I Bestowed That Title To The MEAD Notebook Journal. But....What I Found I Had Written In This Made Me Stop For A Moment And Relive Alot Of Painful Memories. Ok, Actually THE MOST Painful Memory Of My Life. The Death Of My Grandmother. I Would Like To Share This With You All.

Sometimes........when I close my eyes, I can still hear her calling me. "Doodle Bug!!!! Time to come in!!! It's Dinner time!!" Bare foot, redhaired and freckles I would run to the house and into her arms. My grandmother, the one person who i felt loved me regardless of anything was my whole world.
She would wear her house coat and hair net everyday while doing her day to day cooking and house work. She thought of them to be nothing more than "old rags" but to me she was as beautiful as CINDERELLA at the ball. Her hair net, symbolizing a beautiful tiara upon her head.
I lived with my grandparents from the age of six months until I was 12 years old. I will never forget that year in my life. The year was 1984. The year my whole life changed. The year my best friend, my mother, my shelter, my rescuer-------my grandmother passed away.

At that particular time, I felt she had been taken from me by GOD as a means of punishment. For all the "unclean" thoughts I had began to have. Those of men. The physicians, nurses and specialists who were called in to consult my grandmothers case were all puzzled. All of their years in medical school and indepth training could not equip them with the knowledge to confirm a diagnosis.
In my heart I knew that it was out of their hands. There was something of a higher power playing a role in this..........and it was ALL MY fault. MY doing. MY shame.
My grandmother was a very religious woman.. As poor as my grandparents were she never once asked GOD "WHY?" She came from a wealthy family in Great Neck, NY but when she was found to be pregnant with my mother, her parents placed her on the first train back to Virginia and closed themselves out of her life, forever. In the end her own mother did not come to her funeral.

I remember one day while sitting on her lap in the rocking chair, she told me of all the things she was most grateful for in her life. The most being....... Me. My grandmother had 8 grandchildren, all of whom she loved dearly, but that day in that rocking chair she added...." I love all my grandchildren, but Doodlebug, you are my first------and you are my heart. You are very special, and i know that. One day when you are older you will know what i mean by this."

The day her heart stopped beating....so did mine. The day of the viewing, I sat upon the hill across my grandparents house, watching everyone get into their cars. All of them unaware that I was watching. All of them unaware of my disappearance. They didn't even know I wasn't there around them. They must blame me too, I thought.

I would ask myself, "Why am I having all these unclean thoughts about boys? Why don't I like girls? I'm a boy, I am SUPPOSE to like girls. Am I really the name that all those mean kids at school call me? Am I Gay?" GOD says it's a sin. The preacher says so too, and he knows GOD better than anybody. GOD punishes those who go against the Bible and its teachings, the preacher says. So....I am now being punished for mine. Good Job GOD. What better way to punish me than to take away the one person who means the most to me. It was this day that i turned my back on christianity and became a wiccan. A choice i have never regretted, even to this day.

My grandmother used to love to sing. She passed her love for music onto me. I never had any real formal training in music, but can hear something a few times and sit to the piano and play it by ear. That amazed her. We would also sit outside on the porch swing and just sing for hours. She loved to hear me sing. It made her happy. That in return, made me happy. But after her death, happiness was erased from my life for as long as i can remember. Christmas after her passing was no longer the same. All the other kids would be elated. Not me. I always knew that Santa Claus could NEVER bring to me the one gift that I wanted more than anything else in the whole world. My Grandmother. Christmas was also the time, that I was reminded of my grandmothers death. It was during this "Jolly Good Time" in 1984, that she was snatched away from me. I still remember that December when she fell ill and passed away. All of her Christmas gifts were still under the tree......never to be opened and enjoyed.

"And I Hope GOD KNows If He Lets You Go.....I'll Never Give You Back"......IF YOU CAME BACK FROM HEAVEN: Artist: Lorrie Morgan