THE LIFE OF A LILY BY LILY RATLIFF EXCERPT “Mommy Dearest” Mrs. Doretha (Brown) Hooker was born on March 11, 1937 to Lillie Mae Brown (where I got my first name from) and Norman Brown, in Rock Hill, South Carolina. This was my grandmother; a woman that I can just truly say was “real”. Growing up during the forties and fifties wasn’t always easy. She had to defend herself many times in school. During the time she was on the earth, I didn’t know her to have very many friends, which at the time she always felt it was better that way. But now, I feel that no one ever really got the chance to see her for who she really was. Even though she only had an eleventh grade education, her sense of self and overall character truly outshined and was beyond her years. She had such wisdom, common street sense, and a style about her that I think she passed on to me. She felt that even though we didn’t have all the money in the world didn’t mean we had to dress that way. She went out and made sure that we all had the best of everything. Was I spoiled? Maybe. But at the same time, she taught me how to save. She was also very particular about what I wore and how my hair was done. She was definitely a believer that a woman’s hair is a glory to her. She never wanted me to cut or even trim my hair. I guess because as a baby, I had to have little bows taped on my head to show that I was a girl. So she kept moisturizing it, brushing and grooming it until it became long down my back. She was therefore, very protective of my hair, as if it were her own. I remember my grandmother always telling people, “you know Lynn is different, don’t fault her because she’s that way.” I never really understood what she meant by that. But now I think I do. Because I was considered an only child in the eyes of so many people, even though I had a younger half brother that I was not raised with on my biological mother’s side. I was spoiled, never had to do much of anything, and was much different than the rest of the family and I think she kind of conditioned me that way. She looked at me very highly, and treated me as such by the way she dressed me, she kept me in the church, and instilled in me great morals and what she calls “future mother wit and common sense.” And because of that, even when I was around other family members at gatherings, I could tell I was treated and perceived differently, and when I would come around, conversations would change, even in their language and tone of voice. Like, “there’s Lynn, we better not say that.” In many ways, I felt really bad about that, because I felt like an outcast. It was bad enough that I felt like I was not wanted by my biological parents and pawned off to be taken care of by my grandparents. But don’t get me wrong; if it had not been for them, as I look back, I don’t Copyright © 2008
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THE LIFE OF A LILY BY LILY RATLIFF know where I would be. I’m blessed the more for being raised appropriately by them, and look at me now. So I understand these things now. Throughout the time of her living, which was up to my being 25 years of age, she always told me that she wanted me to be better than she was. She wanted me to be independent enough to where I didn’t need a man to take care of me. She always knew I wanted to be a teacher, so she would go around and make sure everyone knew I was going to be one. I believe she was very proud of me, not necessarily for who I was, but for whom she knew I was going to become. “Can The Real Dead-Beat Dad Please Stand Up?” My biological father has been in and out of my life ever since I was born. Around age 56 now, he has since my becoming the age of 32, played “Santa” maybe five or six times in my life. Each time, he has tried to prove himself around my grandparents by giving money, lavish presents, and trying to take me around to see other family members or friends to introduce me as “his daughter”. What was once an outcast, by age 9, I was finally worth loving. Maybe I started to look like him. Why am I saying all this, you may ask? Because as a little girl, my grandmother told me stories on the reasons why I was adopted. The only thing the stories did was fuel up negative energy towards my father. Year after year many different holidays and birthdays came and I waited to be able to see him walk through the door. But he didn’t show. So of course, after a while, I would go on with life as if knowing he would not be a part of it. Until he would show years later with the same routine. If you’ve ever had a situation in your life like this, then this is definitely for you. Emotionally over time after constantly feeling abandoned, then to have someone turn around and play “ping pong” and bounce the ball back in your corner can have dramatic effects in the long term development into adulthood. Ultimately, your “past” feelings of neglect will rise up in every future relationship you try to have with other people. To conquer it, you would have to undergo deliverance from it, asking God to restore you and your past, which God will so graciously do, if one would just ask and receive the salvation of the Lord. But unfortunately for years, I didn’t see it that way. Up until the age of 13, I was lost with very low self-esteem, timid, feeble, sickly, and constantly thought of as one who was hanging on by a string. No one, and I’m sure, including my father, thought that I would make something of myself; I would be dead before I’d even get out of grade school. I’m saying this because of the previous illnesses in which I had. If not fully recovered, a flare up of TB could occur again. From the time my grandmother first told me about my being adopted, I automatically assumed that no one loved me or wanted me around. If it had not been for the Lord watching over me, I would have either been Copyright © 2008
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THE LIFE OF A LILY BY LILY RATLIFF dead or sent around to every foster or orphanage home known to man. But I really feel God equipped my grandparents with the task of caring for me-no matter what the price. Because of that, I felt it really didn’t matter whether I had my biological father in my life or not.
To learn more about The Life of Lily: Growing in His Strength, Blooming in His Love visit www.thelifeofalily.com.
Copyright Š 2008
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