Back to front and left to right: Tom (brother-in-law), Me, Sister Vicki, Dad, Mom, Nephew TJ and his sister Tabitha

I need to rant today. I’m sorry but I do. It’s a matter of trying to cleanse my own tortured soul. So between my tangents and ramblings I hope I can deliver some sort of message of value that will help someone, somewhere.

My family has been hit with a series of calamities over the last several years. Daddy (me) got sick and can barely do what he does best anymore, which is write. Please, if you dare to differ hold your opinion. 😉 The birth of our, now 3 year old, twins was dramatic and saw us spending some time living in a McDonald House in Springfield, MO. They were born premature and Bailey (one of the twins) had to spend 2 weeks in NICU before she was strong enough to come home.

It seemed like hell at the time, but I truly had no idea what hell was, and maybe I still don’t. More on that later.

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But first, let’s backtrack please.

I spent 3 years in a Catholic Seminary when I was younger. I was raised a believer and my Mom made sure my rear was in church every Sunday.

I have since parted with Catholic doctrine but never with the wonderful people of the Church.

So I am a believer, but not a “Biblical Scholar.” In the Catholic faith there is not a lot of encouragement for one to do their own searching. Parishioners are fed the approved readings and gospels every Sunday and not really pushed to do much outside of that. Maybe that was just my perception. I certainly mean no offense to my Catholic friends.

But one of the reasons I eventually left the Church is because that is not me.

I am that typical “Doubting Thomas” that doesn’t like to be told what to believe. Yes that’s me. Maybe that’s the reason I do what I do. For those who don’t know, I publish an online blog/website called D.C. Clothesline. I seldom get to write for a variety of reasons, but after 4 strokes in the last 2 years it is doubtful I would make much sense anyway.

Our site’s tagline is “Airing out America’s Dirty Laundry” and that’s just what I want to do today, albeit in an atypical fashion.

Life has thrown a nasty curveball at me and my family lately and I just need to write today for my own mental health.

I think back to my last moment with my dead Mother and I think Americans need to hear my story, and, more importantly, her words. It won’t be polished and professional. Few things are with me. You get what you get.

But what you get is truth.

Many years ago, my Mom went in for routine surgery. It was a simple procedure. Chances of survival were near 100% I’m sure. However, during the procedure it was found that my Mom had arterial sclerosis. Everything went haywire and she had a cluster stroke on the table. She was basically dead on November 1st (Catholic All Saints Day).

Brain dead.

I never got to say goodbye.

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The family was devastated and we didn’t actually pull life support until November 8th, a full week after Mom was basically dead and just being kept alive (technically of course) by machines. I always give her the honor she deserves. To me she died on November 1st. Because if ever a saint walked this earth, it was my Mom.

A couple of days before the plug was pulled, I got to try to say my final goodbye and my braindead mother surprisingly talked back.

This is my testimony.

My ex-wife and I went to her bedside so I could try to make sense of what had happened and try to utter my final words to her. I am a drama queen by nature. Can men be drama queens? Oh well. It fits. There was chaos to be discussed. There always is with me. 🙂

So I was sorting through all that was going on in life at that moment and promising my mother that I would pick up where she left off. I would bear the burden of holding the family together (a promise I have not kept well) and basically I was just trying to get it all out.

I held one of her hands while my ex-wife held the other.

Then the miracle happened.

My braindead mother squeezed my hand and Carolyn’s hand simultaneously, and with authority I might add.

In one moment she had made everything clear to me. God was with us.

I’m crying now as I cried then.

You have no idea what kind of impact that miracle made to this Doubting Thomas.

Was it her? Was it God?

I’m sure some egghead Doctor would tell me that it was just a seizure or spasm or whatever the scientific/medical explanation might be.

I never sought that explanation for I had just seen enough.

Maybe Mom heard me, but if she did not I can guarantee you that God did. It’s one of those “had to be there” moments but one that changed the course of my life forever.

There is no longer any shred of doubt in my mind. You may hear more powerful and polished testimonies. But you won’t find anyone sharing them that is more steadfast in belief than I.

Funny thing is that on November 8th in Springfield, Missouri the sun decided to shine. It had not done that in all the days we waited for the final passing of my dead mother’s body. It was gloomy until we pulled the plug that day. Coincidence? Maybe. I saw it as a sign that my suspicions were correct. God spoke to me again shortly after her official passing.

So what’s the point?

The point is that America needs God way worse than we need Donald Trump, or this so-called “conservative” party that has seemingly turned their collective backs on Him AND us. I have some hope for President Trump, but absolutely none for the Republican Party that I once loved.

Everything comes full circle and We the People don’t often understand why things are as they are. But God is with us and His people need to know it.

I need to know it more than ever now.

That curveball I talked about earlier is a very sick son. My first. Ryker Alan Dale Garrison was born on February 21st. I set his picture as a “featured-image” for Facebook before I retrieved the above picture of our family. Ryker is currently 5 hours away with Mommy while my 3 youngest girls, and I, try to survive at home. We certainly aren’t thriving.

Ryker has heart problems that will require surgery. He has seizures. Mommy probably had a heart attack while with him and has not been able to fit an angiogram into her schedule.

My family is crushed financially and that is not just because of hundreds of thousands in medical bills. But, thanks to Obamacare, it sure doesn’t help.

I could provide an unbelievable laundry list of all the challenges in our lives right now. But, then again, maybe it would be entirely believable because we all have them and that is the entire point.

God is with us all. What my Mom couldn’t tell me with her mouth, she told me with the squeeze of my hand.

And my dead mother is speaking to you just as she did me.

America, are you going to forget that God is with us? and… Are you going to let others forget?

America never needed Donald Trump as much as she needs her God.

Please don’t let all of those who have passed before us die in vain. I’m sure that many of them tried to convey the same message to you.

God Bless You all, and I hate to ask but if you feel compelled to help with Ryker’s bills you can do that here. But a prayer for my family and/or America in general is all that we really need.

In a time where every day seems to stem more controversy, suffering and strife, we need to keep things simple and NOT put our faith in elected servants who seek to be our masters.

Our God will take over from there. He has ways of working it all out.

God is with us and please never forget that. And if you think my ramblings are worth anything at all, please feel free to reprint or share. America needs to remember from where she came. Now more than ever.

The truth will not die with me. My Mom would kick my ____.