Little Aussie Battler

Susan Jackson

Description

This is a story written from my journals. From immigrating as a four-year-old and trying to fit into a different culture to turning away from God in my teens. From a violent marriage doomed to fail and the death of my son, with the repercussions that followed. And yet, also between the lines, there is the joy and reverence for life itself. Making a lot of mistakes through life, I have learned not to give myself over to another set of values, or to another human being. It took me a long time to find myself and to love the person I was meant to be. I still have a lot to learn, even now, about love and how we are to address love and forgiveness in our lives. My story is a testimony to "the old truths." To me, it is a reminder not to make the same mistakes. In the end, it turned out to be not only the story of the first forty years of my life, but my spiritual journey as well. There are still thirty years of untouched journals

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• Memoir

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 29 mai 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781645366782
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

The Little Aussie Battler
Susan Jackson
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-05-29
The Little Aussie Battler About The Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgements Synopsis Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Chapter Forty-Seven Chapter Forty-Eight Chapter Forty-Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-One Chapter Fifty-Two Chapter Fifty-Three Chapter Fifty-Four Chapter Fifty-Five Chapter Fifty-Six Chapter Fifty-Seven Chapter Fifty-Eight Chapter Fifty-Nine Chapter Sixty Chapter Sixty-One Chapter Sixty-Two Chapter Sixty-Three Chapter Sixty-Four Chapter Sixty-Five Chapter Sixty-Six Chapter Sixty-Seven Chapter Sixty-Eight Chapter Sixty-Nine Chapter Seventy Chapter Seventy-One Chapter Seventy-Two Chapter Seventy-Three Chapter Seventy-Four Chapter Seventy-Five Chapter Seventy-Six Chapter Seventy-Seven Chapter Seventy-Eight Chapter Seventy-Nine Chapter Eighty Chapter Eighty-One Chapter Eighty-Two Chapter Eighty-Three Chapter Eighty-Four Chapter Eighty-Five Chapter Eighty-Six Chapter Eighty-Seven Chapter Eighty-Eight Chapter Eighty-Nine Chapter Ninety Chapter Ninety-One Chapter Ninety-Two Chapter Ninety-Three Chapter Ninety-Four Chapter Ninety-Five Chapter Ninety-Six Chapter Ninety-Seven Chapter Ninety-Eight Chapter Ninety-Nine Chapter Hundred
About The Author
Susan Jackson is aged seventy and has always kept a diary. She is a mother to six, grandmother to seventeen, and great-grandmother to fifteen. She has been married for thirty-two years and for the second time. She is a survivor against odds that seemed to want to destroy her. She made a lot of mistakes throughout her life and learned not to give herself over to another set of values or to another human being, to be someone who she could no longer live with. It’s taken her a long time to find herself and to love the person she was meant to be. She still has so much to learn, even now, about love and how we are to address love in our lives. She lives these days in a small rural town in Northern New South Wales, Australia, hence the title of her book. She loves to read, write, garden, and do crafts. Her life is simple and quiet for the most part, yet still, with such a big family, dramas manage to find their way into hers. Her memoirs tell of how she has overcome the immense odds of daily life in the first forty years of life. She still has thirty journals she hasn’t touched yet, another book she believes.
Dedication
Dedicated to my son, Shane Robert Robinson
(1971–1982)
Copyright Information ©
Susan Jackson (2020)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, 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.
Ordering Information:
Quantity sales: special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.
Publisher’s Cataloguing-in-Publication data
Jackson, Susan
The Little Aussie Battler
ISBN 9781643780627 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781643780634 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781645366782 (ePub e-book)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020902301
www.austinmacauley.com/us
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers LLC
40 Wall Street, 28th Floor
New York, NY 10005
USA
[e-mail]
[phone]
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my husband who taught me it was OK to be me and loved me anyway.
To my children who shine their light wherever they go and pass it on to all others. As their mother, I can’t be more proud.
To my granddaughter, Penny, who helped me with all of her computer skills.
Synopsis
This manuscript is written from my journals. It starts from birth and encompasses immigrating to Australia as a four-and-a-half-year-old and trying to fit into a different culture. Turning from God in my teens to a violent marriage doomed to fail and the death of a son, the repercussions that followed are full of hardships and trials and yet also between the lines there is the joy and reverence for life itself, a testimony to ‘the old truths.’ It is a reminder not to make the same mistakes. In the end, it turned out to be not only my life story but, to my surprise, my spiritual journey as well.
Prologue
‘They killed my baby,’ I thought as I opened my eyes to a new day. ‘They killed my baby.’ Then I heard a voice from the depth of my being so gentle yet demanding; I could not refuse to listen.
“Don’t think like that, it will destroy you,” the voice said.
‘God, please give me the courage to face this day. I seem to be in a daze. Things just seem to be happening around me. People calling in to say “sorry,” I don’t know how to react, never been through anything like this before. Put on a brave face and say “thank you.” Cry again.’
Chapter One
I arrived on Planet Earth on the twentieth day of June in the year of Our Lord, 1947. An evil force had just finished ravishing the planet in the form of a global war. I was born in the Northern Hemisphere. Both of my parents were British. My father was of German descent and my mother had the blood of the Irish.
Carried within my mother’s womb, I had experienced sound and movement and felt the love between these two who were to nurture and care for me. I was totally secure in this environment, my mind resting and dreaming. After three seasons, I felt the first waves of birth waters. It was time to be born and enter the world. I had no choice then but to pass from one time-space into another. I was more than nervous about this fact, so much so that when I was born, my little body refused to accept my mother’s life-saving milk and so I was fed by tubes to keep me alive. A priest was called in to Baptize me as indicators showed my future was in doubt.
My father left the hospital in a fit of gloom. He didn’t think his tiny firstborn child would be able to survive. My mother, on the other hand, had the upbringing of an Irish Catholic and had faith in God. Every day she persevered to express her milk to take to the hospital so I could be fed. After six long weeks, I was taken home. Much love and tenderness were showered upon me and I grew to be a perfectly healthy child.
Just one week before my second birthday, my mother gave birth to another girl child. I wasn’t really sure about this new addition to our family and sometimes found it hard to understand the fuss that outsiders made of my new sister.
My mother would take us for long walks in the fresh air on Wimbledon Common. Passers-by would stop and peer into the pram to see the new baby. “Can we go home now, Mummy?” I would say, not liking the attention the baby was getting. It was at this time I took to sucking my thumb. I found it to be very soothing and it became a habit I would foster over the next ten years.
My days were pleasant and comfortable. Like all little ones, I was absorbed with learning all about my environment. I’m told I was a placid child. Totally receptive, I was like a new computer waiting to be programmed. As with all children, I stored multitudes of facts in my mind and, in my own good time, would assimilate them also. Little did I know it would take more than thirty long years before I would understand some of the mysteries of this life I was then about to experience.
As my sister grew, I delighted in having a playmate and our world was secure and happy. Two years later, however, our parents decided on a course that would change our lives forever. My father wanted a brighter future than post-war England could offer. We were to leave the country of our birth and travel 12,000 miles to foreign shores. My world, as I knew it, was shattered.
I left behind the comfy, warm laps of my grandmothers and the cuddles of my grandfathers. I especially loved my grandmothers. They were big, warm, cuddly women. When sitting on my paternal grandma’s lap, I would sometimes get a surprise. She would unexpectedly part her knees and I would fall through them but I was never afraid ’cos I was always saved by the skirt of Nanny’s dress which caught me every time. Nanny’s dresses were very slippery and felt like silk.
I remember she loved music. She used to sing around the house along with the radio or just break into songs whenever the mood took her. I had seen tears in my grandmother’s eyes once while she sang along with one of these songs. I was sad to see Nanny crying, not realizing in my tender years that they could have been happy tears, tears of joy, at remembering a feeling when the words brought back some long-forgotten memories. There is a lot that wi