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Thursday, March 19, 2015
My Father Was a Pretty Bad Man, But I Am a Blessing and Should Be Treated So! by Cindy Lambert
It’s hard to know where to start with my story -- I guess
from the beginning. I was conceived when
my mom was raped by an encyclopedia salesman who forced his way into my mom’s
mobile home, while my 3 year old brother was asleep. He raped her, and then left. She was in
shock and didn’t know what to do. She
was on assistance and had a wonderful social worker, but was afraid to even
tell her.
Approximately two weeks later, he returned around 11:30 at
night. He knocked and knocked, but my mom froze. He proceeded to break in and she thought he
would rape her again. She told him that he WAS NOT going to do that again
-- that he would have to kill her first. They struggled over lights, and
she was able to grab a hold of a phone and call the Police Department.
Incredibly, the Police told her that they couldn’t help her because she had to
call the Sherriff since her home was out of the city limits.
The rapist grabbed her by the neck and started choking
her. When she was slinking to the floor and no longer screaming, he suddenly
ran out. Shortly after that, the Sherriff did come, took her
statement and looked at her neck. They said they didn’t see any marks,
then told her there was nothing they could do!
She said she felt ashamed and alone. She did contact her social worker, who
instructed my mom to go to the hospital and get checked out, so she did.
A couple of weeks following, a Sherriff came to the office
where my mom worked and spoke to her again regarding what had happened.
She said she sensed that he did not believe her. But the following
week, she got a call to come to the Police station to make an identity in a
lineup. The rapist was picked up on a drunken driving charge.
And YES, he was in the lineup. The Police took his
statement -- shockingly, it was identical to hers! He confessed the whole thing.
My mom found out that she had become pregnant with me from
this rape, and he was ordered to pay $10.00 a week in a Court Proceeding
-- until I was 18 years old. She was later told that his family
paid the weekly support, so as to not suffer more embarrassment to the family.
My mom’s Social Worker later informed her that the rapist
was under suspicion, but not charged at that time, with a rape / murder of
another girl prior to raping my mom, so my mom and I are both lucky to be
alive. She was also later told by her Social
Worker that the rapist was in and out of the mental institution as a result of
psychological trauma from his military service.
So that’s the story of my rape conception. Mom and I did later
in life talk about abortion and she said it was never a consideration. She did, however, follow it up with saying “I
always did want a girl -- good thing I was a girl.” That kind of took me aback.
There is one thing I want to make clear: I love my Mom with all my heart. I know it wasn’t easy making the decision to
have me and to keep me. She had a very
hard childhood. She had an abusive
father who drank heavily, and lost her mother to an illness when she was only
14. Most of the memories my mother had
for her own mom was of her being sick. So my mother didn’t really have anyone to
teach her things about life experiences.
My mom made mistakes and as would be understandable, she
didn’t make good choices in men. I was
still a baby when she met a man twice her age – 32 years older than her who
made her feel safe and took away some of the loneliness she had. He drank
heavily and sure didn’t like me at all. He wanted his own little girl and I
guess I wasn’t good enough. Later, he
got his wish and got his little girl -- my sister whom I loved so much. So
growing up, my brother loved my step-father, and so did my sister, but I felt
like the black sheep all the time. Mom
was afraid for me to be alone with him, so I had to stay hidden while she was
at work. On one occasion when I was a baby, my mom found
him choking me until I had turned blue.
He eventually died of a heart attack, and our adoption was finalized two
weeks later. I was forced to take his
name, which was another embarrassment for me.
When I was about 6 years old, I found out that I was
conceived in rape. What 6 year old knows what
rape is? My cousin and her friends were talking about me, but they didn’t know
I was under the table playing. All I
heard was that I came from rape and that the rapist got off by pleading
insanity. I ran to the bathroom and
locked myself in. I cried so hard
thinking I must be tainted and really stupid, and that people are just being
nice to me. I know that sounds
ridiculous now, but it hurt so bad at the time. It was all I could reason for the way people
made me feel.
My aunt came home and I let her in. She hugged me and told me it’s ok and that one
day my mom would tell me more when I get older. All through school, I didn’t know what to say
why I didn’t have a father. That was in the 60’s and it just wasn’t that
normal. My mom had to work early in the morning in a factory and no one helped
me get dressed or fed me. One teacher would hide me behind the easel to give me
toast and orange juice. I had no friends
and I didn’t know how to socialize, so I played with myself. I made up friends at home and most the time, I
played like I was a teacher and everyone wanted to be my friend.
As I grew into a teenager, I wanted to know more, but I
didn’t know how to tell mom that I already knew. I was afraid she would be mad at me. Mom and I started fighting a lot. I did get to go to church, and I learned at a
very early age that Jesus loves me always, no matter what, and that God was
watching over me. He gave me special
people along the way when I needed them most. I have never lost my faith; it was the only
thing good in my life.
The one thing I really dreamed about was having a wonderful
man who would love me -- really love me, and who would be my best friend. One day when I was 11, I met this young man
and I just knew he was to be mine. How
could this be, he was so cool and I was so young and plain? I prayed for him to be mine every day. I kept a diary and told all the silly things I
did to get his attention. Finally one
day, when I was 14 and he was 17, Paul walked 22 miles in the hot country sun
to my house to ask me to “go steady” with him.
I told him right away about my
conception – that I never had a father and my mother was raped, and he never
ever had a problem with it. He says it only
made him love me more. God gave me a wonderful man and not just
any man, but the one of my dreams! He
also gave me two wonderful sons who have made us proud parents. It was July 3rd 1973 we started our
life together, and with ups and downs like normal, we are still in love with
each other and are best friends. We dated for 5 years and have been married since 1978!
Even still, I fight moments of feeling insignificant. I sometimes wonder if things would be
different for me if mom had given me away to a loving family. But in the end, I am who I am and God wants me
to do my best in life and show compassion to those who need it when I can.
When I think about it, I feel like I am so lucky to have
been given life, even though it wasn’t easy and happy all the time. I know that I have to make my life count – to
make God proud of me for giving me a chance at life.
I know my mom went through hard times too for me and she
endured a lot of pain and loneliness. I
am glad to have my mother and to have known her all these years. She couldn’t give me the nurturing I really
needed growing up because she didn’t know how and it just felt uncomfortable --
I get that. But I know she loves me and
that is all I need. I just have to work
on loving me every day. One wish I have
would be that people would not look down on people like me because of how we
were conceived, and that still affects me.
I never knew the man who raped my mother or his family. It sounds like he was a pretty bad man, but I
am a blessing and should be treated so. I
feel like pieces are missing in my life and I wish people knew how it hurts so
bad sometimes because you can’t tell what causes you to be sad sometimes. But my
mom always tells me, “Chin up!” When I’m feeling down. And I know it’s hard to be down if you have
your chin up!
BIO: Cindy Lambert is
a wife, mother, jewelry designer/crafter, and pro-life blogger for and member of Save The 1.
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