Ghost No More, my review

This is my journey back from fear and hopelessness, and how I went from feeling like a ghost, to realizing my voice and value.

I once hated my past. It had broken and twisted me, but now I appreciate all the beauty and redemption God has brought from each broken area.

Those words are from the introduction to CeeCee James' powerful memoir, Ghost No More, in which she details her life as an only child not valued by the parents who manipulate, abuse, and hold her hostage to their whims because of their insane selfishness and brokenness.

CeeCee's mother loves animals and values friends' company but isolates and torments her own daughter. Seemingly jealous of any attention her daughter receives from the people in their lives, even relatives, she compels her daughter to jump through hoop after emotional hoop in order to be rewarded with some attention from her, mostly negative. Usually she confines her daughter to a room or space out of her way, viciously uses the denial of food as punishment, and only welcomes the caresses of a little girl desperate for acknowledgement and love when she finds herself too ill to cope. The contrast between the mother's habitual neglect and CeeCee tender care of her ill mother is painful.

CeeCee's dad and mom are an unhealthy combination. Their own distrust of and disdain for each other fuels the mistreatment of their only child. Early on we read of the bizarre incident of the Easter candy, and how CeeCee's dad punishes her for sneaking it. Later we must witness her mother's response to a complaint by hitting her daughter across the jaw with a wooden spoon. As with many other cases of child abuse, the "discipline" that CeeCee's parents choose for her is always extreme and harsh without any loving effort to correct behavior. More heartbreaking still is the fact that often there is no behavior to correct, only an imaginary offence that seems concocted as an excuse for doing harm.

Despite the lack of love and respect in her life, CeeCee has a powerful awareness of God's presence. However, because she is consistently fed the idea of her worthlessness, her first prayers are for God to make her "a good girl".

"Please God, let me start over...I will be good this time. I will be a good girl."

This is always a horrific effect of child abuse: the child feels they are somehow to blame for how they are treated. They are punished merely for being human, and they suffer because of their parents' inhumanity.

When the mother finally leaves the father, she tells CeeCee it is her fault that she stayed with him so long. She also childishly tells CeeCee not to talk to her friends and demeans her little girl anytime others praise her or even acknowledge her. Or she ridicules her simply for breathing funny. The mother places inhumane pressure on CeeCee to not "shame" her, the definition of such shaming defined entirely by the woman's utter self-absorption. She smothers her pet kittens and emotionally starves her daughter, leaving others to offer her the phantom of a mother's care.

Each slapping and spanking is gut-wrenchingly painful in its cruelty, as is the mortification that CeeCee suffers as she grows older. Each fleeting, small kindness is painful, too, because the reader learns to recognize the patterns of eventual abandonment.

When people enter CeeCee's life with some understanding of what her familial life is like, recognizing her mother's nature despite the false persona she chooses to present, the reader feels relieved that CeeCee has encountered kindness. When CeeCee spends time in nature away from her mother, a weight is lifted momentarily, but as she grows older, the outdoors becomes just another form of isolation enforced by her mother.

There is a term, "throw-away children" that describes not what the children are but how their parents and others treat them and what misfortune finds them because of the lack of parental concern for their welfare. CeeCee suffers abuse not only at her mother's hands but also at the hands of others, particularly her grandfather. When her mother discovers it, her response is a self-centered one, and she only addresses her daughter's psychological scars when forced to do so by Child Protection Services.

Unfortunately, in all this CeeCee cannot turn to her father, because their relationship, reestablished in her teenage years, is made awkward by distance and the memory of past intimidation and neglect. But when she visits him during summer and holiday vacations there's at least more peace, more care and more food.

There are more glimmers of hope in this memoir as CeeCee is shielded from her mother and aided and encouraged by neighbors, her friend Sandy's family, and the school librarian who recognizes her gift with words. CeeCee also experiences unusual consolation in prayer, an embracing and calming warmth, during desperate moments when she fears for her mother's health or fearfully prays for protection from her mother.

As CeeCee develops into a young woman, we walk with her as she faces her demons. Part of that entails confronting her grandfather and refusing to let him harm her again. How she copes with the continuing abuse, derision and neglect of her mother, although not surprising, is heartbreaking. It is only after she is removed from that woman's poisoning influence and meets a young man who loves Jesus and loves her that she eventually stops harming herself and begins slowly healing while learning to value and love herself.

I am always amazed by the power of the human spirit when I read such testimonies as that of CeeCee James in Ghost No More. I am always awed by how God can sustain and bolster us in the bleakest and most disordered circumstances and environments, environments alien to His love and mercy. Love does not suppress our pain. It does not erase it. It does not blind us to its causes. But it can renew and strengthen us while bringing something achingly beautiful and startling clear from our experience, and by doing so gives us something enlightening to share with others who know little hope and hardly any comfort in confronting their own history or present circumstances. I think this is what CeeCee James has done with Ghost No More.

That is invaluable. That is realizing your voice and value.

May God bless her for it.

Consequences

I am saddened by the death of Jerry Brown. I am discouraged that his death is the result of poor decisions made by his close friend who now faces manslaughter charges.

In talking about this tragedy, former Indianapolis Colts coach Tony Dungy spoke about the need to discuss life choices with players, and with one's own children. He related how he had met a young man years earlier who had gone to prison for nine years on vehicular homicide charges. This man told Coach Dungy that those nine years were nothing compared to waking up every morning knowing that he had been responsible for the death of three people. Coach had to have him speak to the team - an ultimate lesson from horrible experience.

When I learned of Brown's death, I spoke to my ten-year-old son. These moments are not ones to let slip by without having a discussion, a preventative good that can come from something so senseless.

"Can you imagine carrying around that guilt for the rest of your life?" I said to my son. "Knowing that you had killed someone by your stupid decisions?"

My husband also pointed out that now the man responsible, Josh Brent, would go to prison for his mistake.

This is not a new topic, though we speak of different lives being affected. After our car accident this fall, I asked my husband to speak to our two eldest, who had not been in the van, about the motorcyclist who hit us and the circumstances that led up to his death. The conversation was a lengthy one, but my children will not forget it. They know the impact.

He had been in a minor accident just minutes before ours and had fled that scene before he made the decision to run the red light at the intersection where I was preparing to turn left. When his motorcycle hit the front of our van at such a high speed, he and his bike were thrown. He was not wearing a helmet.

It devastates me that he died. It devastates me that I was involved in an accident that ended a life when I wish to do harm to no one. And, as I recently told my closest friends, I feel that I now have a responsibility to mourn that man all my life, though my sorrow must be far less than what his family and friends feel.

Lives are forever altered by split-second decisions which is why we must give our children the tools to be circumspect in the face of temptation. Sometimes, no matter how badly we wish it for someone, there are no second (or third or fourth) chances. I do not see a motorcycle now without thinking about a bulky black bike lying on the pavement. Certainly I will never gaze at some tough motorcyclist wearing no helmet without righteous anger that the state of Arizona has no law requiring him to wear one. And when, as happened just this week, traffic becomes congested at an odd time and someone mentions that it's because of a bad motorcycle accident, I will be reminded and grieve all over again for the man who hit me and for all the people affected by a fresh tragedy.

I am sad now about something very particular. But I cannot imagine the sadness Josh Brent will carry, because he chose to drive impaired.