EPOCH Part 1
(Epoch - a period of time marked by notable events)
My life has evolved in thirty years epochs, that is how it appears when I review how my present is unfolding. The first question was, why the eliminated colon cancer revived itself and roam around in my body as if it was the owner of my body? After, I told the cancer it is not welcomed into the body I created for myself and it should get out, the thought came that it is fifteen years since it was first evicted; that is half an epoch of my current incarnation story
The first thirty years begun at age fifteen, the year I entered secondary school. In elementary school I was known as Joyce Smith and upon registering for secondary I asked to be known as Cecelia choosing to be known by my middle name. That was good for my new school mates and teachers but not my family and community who insisted on using the name by which they had always known me. I fought this with every emotional weapon I could muster, as being called Joyce was a painful experience for me. At that time, I did not know why being called Joyce made me so very angry, but it did. The reason for my anger was I thought Joyce was a nasty little beastie and I was not her, I was Cecelia an intelligent and curious girl who loved to read and write who had a bright future.
The first marker appeared that year in the form of a huge and painful vaginal abscess treated by my mother with a poultice of warm castor oil and pepper leaf. When it erupted after many days of agony the stench was ugly to say the least. All was calm after that and I continued my schooling and did not show any damage on the outside, but that abscess recurred for the next, thirty years over an over time and again it would come doctors did all kinds of probing but there appeared no physical cause for its appearance. The last one came the year my mother died and I as forty-five; thirty years.
The reason for its disappearance is in the next blog.
Comments
I had a similar issue with my name. My father was intent that it be pronounced the French way, to honor our French heritage.
He wrote on my birth certificate ("zhuh-meel").
After he died when I was 4, I had grown up as Jemille - with the hard J. Mom remarried when I was 5 and changed my name to Chase - her husband's name.
When I was 15 and getting my learner's permit I saw my birth certificate for the first time. I was told since I had not been adopted, that Jemille Williams was my legal name, and it gave me so much pride and freedom from my abusive stepfather to be called by my beloved father's name.
And I asked Mom why she pronounced my name incorrectly, and she shrugged and said that it was just easier.
I protested, "But Daddy was so adamant that it be prounounced correctly that he literally wrote it on my birth certificate! I've never known anyone to have anything written on theirs.
Try as I might, I could not get my friends and family to say it, but once I went to college, as one does, I reinvented myself to what I should have always been called.
My mother and blood sister were the worst about it. My stepsister actually was best at remembering it.
Good for you for holding your ground.
Continuing to pray for you every day! Miss you! XOXO