Dating : Secrets of Cherish Lake Part One…

Cherish Lake was the place I went to, to hide from my problems to forget the world around me. Especially to forget Daddy.

Daddy was a bigot, a man full of hate, bigot is the only word I can use to describe Daddy, he was blinded by hate, hate for anyone not white, not “perfect” in his eyes, after my accident, an accident that occurred when I was ten, after I was thrown off a horse, and paralyzed from the waist down Daddy began to hate me too.

Daddy’s abuse wasn’t physical he never hit us, but he certainly made me know how worthless I was. I hated being around Daddy he made me feel as if I was nothing more than garbage, that I was worthless.

Cherish Lake was a place I could go to and pretend, pretend that I didn’t have a Daddy who hated me because I was less than perfect. I could pretend that my Mom wasn’t afraid to say anything to my Dad.

I found peace and hope on Cherish Lake.

Little did I know that in a matter of a short time it would be Cherish Lake that would change my life was again, and launch me into a family mystery that dated back to the Civil war.

The first time I went to Cherish Lake after I was released from the hospital I was thinking of nothing but getting away from Daddy. The secrets of Cherish Lake never crossed my mind, because I didn’t know Cherish Lake had any secrets, the secrets would come out later.

Cherish Lake was actually a creek that ran off of our property, but at one time it had been a lake, a lake where my ancestors had bathed, a lake where blood had been shed. The lake had history, a history I was not aware of during those first visits to Cherish Lake.

Before the accident I spent time at Cherish Lake but then it hadn’t really been my refuge, it was just a place my friends and I went to play. After the accident when I was ten it became a refuge away from my father, who was so full of hate it buried deep inside him.

I wondered what made Daddy hate so much, wondered why color of skin mattered to him, and what made Mamma want to marry a man so full of hate. Mamma was a nice lady, without an ounce of hate in her. She was never prejudiced, nor were her family, now I understood why her Mamma and Daddy objected to their marriage.

“Sheri Lynn get out of my face.” Daddy yelled at me one hot summer day. I was only asking him if I could ride to town with him. “I’m not taking you anywhere.”

I would have ran off if I could have, of course running out the door was not really an option, not leaning on heavy medal crutches that reminded Daddy that I was not perfect. Reminded Daddy how much he did not like me, of course Daddy did not like himself much.

“Sherri Lynn you know how your Daddy is.” Mamma tried to comfort. “You and

I can do something together.”

“Why does he hate me Mamma.”

“Daddy hates himself sometimes.”

“Why don’t we leave Mamma?”

When Mamma didn’t answer, I knew it was because she was afraid to leave, and my only respite would be Cherish Lake and later a history that went back to the time of the Civil War, a history that would change my life once again.

I spent most of my time trying to hide from Daddy, staying out of his way, he had never hit me, but I didn’t trust him enough to think he never would. He was so full of hate their was no telling what he might do.

Daddy was abusive to Mamma too, not with his fists, but with his words. I can not recall ever seeing him offer her love, only words of hate. I could never understand how much hate one man could hold.

After the accident I questioned his hatred more than ever. What made him love me less after the accident? What made me less of a person? I did not understand any of it. All I wanted was a father who loved me and I could not understand why I could not have that kind of Father.

Mamma and I went to Church, so I always prayed for Daddy, but he would never come. He said church was for “fools” and anyone who went was buying into lies. The only lies I was familiar with were the lies he told himself, lies that said he was better than everyone else.

It was at Church that I learned to deal with my paralysis, learn to live a life that I had not expect to lead, but was leading now because a throw off a horse. I had ridden horses all of my life and had never expected something like this to happen.

For months after getting home from the hospital I was afraid to even get around the horses. Afraid of what might happen to me. I would outgrow that fear, but never outgrow what the hatred did to me, the hatred of a Dad who was suppose to love me.

I was in kindergarten the first time I learned just what kind of Man Daddy was, I had brought my best friend from school home, and because she was colored, Daddy gave me a talking too, and told me that he would not allow a “child like that.” in his house, meaning a child with dark skin. I could not understand Daddy’s hatred in fact I still can not, especially knowing what I know now.

“Daddy what’s wrong with my friend? Why can’t she come over?”

“Because she can’t, and I don’t want you playing with her anymore.”

I made a vow right then that I would play with Amy, whenever I wanted, even if I had to play with her at school. Daddy didn’t have to know. If Daddy was going to make

silly rules that I did not understand I wasn’t going to force myself to obey them. Sometimes Daddy just did not make sense. Actually to me it was almost all the time.

“Mamma why does Daddy hate Amy?” I had asked Mamma that night when Daddy was out doing whatever it was that Daddy did when he was out.

“I don’t know honey, Daddy is just confused.”

That made two of us.

“When is Daddy going to stop being confused and let Amy come over and play?”

“I don’t know honey, but for right now I wouldn’t even talk about Amy.”

“Why Mommy?”

“Because I said so.”

I hated when Mamma said because I said so, I wanted to know why, but I knew the conversation was over.

“Okay Mommy.” I knew I had no choice but to relent, as I got older I would question Mommy more about the way she let Daddy walk over her, but then I was only five, and didn’t know what else to do.

That memory came back to me as I sat down in the grass near Cherish Lake, the year I was twelve. I was going to Junior high, and now my friends were going to be joining cheerleading, and that was something I could not do. I could not be a cheerleader, that just was not an option.

I was angry that summer because my friends were doing the things I could not do, and I was feeling left out. I guess when you come down to it I was just plain Jealous.

Jealous because I was left out of the things my friends were doing, and I felt as if I was being left behind in childhood, at least physically while they were growing into teenager, and doing the things teenagers do.

Lord why doesn’t Daddy love me? Why is Daddy so full of hate? Why is he so against everyone?

It was a common question to the Lord as I sat in front of Cherish Lake, listening to the quiet around me. Birds busy in a distance, water flowing, some say quiet does not have a sound, but I hear sounds in the quiet all the time, and I especially heard of it in front of Cherish Lake the Summers of my twelfth and thirteenth year.

I rarely talked to Mom about Daddy anymore. I think deep down she was as confused as I was. I heard stories of Daddy from his courting days with Mamma, and Daddy says he was a complete gentlemen at first, it was afterwards when his viewed started to show, and his hatred began to surface that Mamma’s family began to warn Mamma of this man, but she didn’t listen and she married him anyway.

Was there a time when Daddy was nice Lord?

I had been able to remember a time when it was at least bearable to be around Daddy. The times before the accident when he would take me horse back riding or take me to town to get Soda’s on hot summer days. I missed the days like that when Daddy was not ashamed of me, didn’t think of me as a burden.

I knew part of it was the drink that changed Daddy, when he came back from town reeking of Budweiser I knew it was time for me to hide out, because Daddy got really mean with his words when he was drinking, and I was afraid he would get mean with Mamma and actually hit her. I think he was scared though, because Mamma’s Daddy had warned Daddy that if he so much as laid a hand on his daughter or on me he would personally come and shoot Daddy. Daddy had reason to be afraid, because Grandpa was real protective of Mamma and he was getting protective of me.

I longed for those days when Mamma would drive me the hundred miles to spend time on Grandma and Grandpa Spencer’s farm, when I was there I knew I was loved and Daddy’s hatred didn’t eat at me like it did when I was home.

I vowed that I would never allow myself to be so full of hate as Daddy was, against people whose skin was darker than his, whose religion was different than his, who happened to have a physical or mentally disability. Daddy was prejudiced against a lot of people, and I thought at times he was prejudiced against himself.

Lord I want Daddy to love people, and he doesn’t, Lord he doesn’t even love me.

I felt the pain from that pact even more as I grew older, and my friends started getting into cheerleading, and I was left behind. I would never be a cheerleader I knew that, but I wished that at least I had a nice Daddy who loved me.

The truth was most people were afraid of Daddy including me, and many of my friends did not get to come over unless their parents knew Daddy was away. It was fine for them to come over when it was just Mamma and Me, but with Daddy there, no one knew what would happen.

I had learned that the year I was five, and brought my friend Amy home. Daddy hated this little girl because of the color of her skin.

I would not allow myself to be engulfed in the hatred Daddy was. I would not allow myself to treat someone differently because of the color of their skin, or because they had a disability.

Daddy I wish you could see the good in people and not see so much bad. I wish he would look beyond the outside and see what a person was on the inside dear Lord.

I use to lay in bed at night dreaming of having a different Daddy, a daddy that didn’t hate people who had skin that was dark, or a daddy who didn’t think a daughter who was disabled wasn’t worth having. I wanted a daddy that cared.

During summer days it was Cherish Lake that took me away and let me find my solace. I loved that about Cherish Lake, and loved the fact it gave me time away from my father. Any place away from my father became a place I wanted to be in my books, and I was glad for any time away from him especially when he got to drinking.

Mamma was scared of Daddy, but I wasn’t scared of him not in the same way Mamma was. The simple fact was I really just didn’t like Daddy. He made no efforts to show me that he cared about me after the accident, he treated me as if I had the plague.

Daddy your horse spooked, that’s how I fell, that’s how I became paralyzed. Your horse Daddy, you should have treated it right. You don’t treat us right and you don’t treat your animals right. Daddy what’s wrong with you?

Now I understand what was wrong with Daddy, he was to full of hate and drink to know anything else. I wondered how Mamma could ever marry such a man, but she was in love and I guess it’s true that love is sometimes blind. I am going ahead of myself here so let me go back.

I was twelve that summer, on the verge of being a young women, the summer I found something at Cherish Lake that would forever change my life, and I hoped in return it would change my Fathers.

The day had been warm but a little breezy in general a typical day for early summer. I had ridden Freedom my horse down to Cherish Lake as I so often did. I named my horse Freedom because I felt free on the horse. Grandma and Grandpa had given me him after my accident. Daddy had only scowled about how it was only another critter to feed, but even Daddy was not stupid enough to cross Grandma and Grandpa.

They had set him in his place more than once.

The accident had taken away my ability to walk without help, but on Freedom I didn’t think about that, or the Heavy Medal braces that now covered a good portion of my legs on Freedom I felt just as his name said Freedom.

I had learned to get myself off the horse alone without hurting myself, and somehow I always managed to get back on. That was a miracle in itself really, but I guess knew that riding was something I really needed so he allowed me to be able to do that.

I settled myself on my favorite spot near the lake, Freedom standing next to me. He was a well behaved horse and seemed to know that if he ran I couldn’t chase him so he never ran from me. He was my horse and I gave him love and attention and he gave it back. I liked that about Freedom.

After settling down I saw that there was a hole, a small one that someone had dug, and out of curiosity I started digging myself. Inside was a small book, old, when I opened it I found it had been someone’s journal and had dated back to before the Civil War, opening the journal and seeing the last name, and remembering stories being told I realized it had been my Great Grandmothers. Finding this journal was the beginning of finding secrets to my families past. Secrets Daddy could not run away from, and many he should not want to run away from.

Opening the journal I let myself get lost in the pages. The journal was better than any episode of Little House on the Prairie my favorite show when I was a little kid, and maybe the journal would help me get answers about my past.

Jan. 5.1825

Winter has not been here long and already I grow tired of the cold. The Heavy quilt ma made for me is not enough to keep my teeth from shattering at night. Ma says this is the coldest winter she’s seen in these parts since she was a little girl, I believe she is right.

Pa’s been out in this weather, chopping wood when the snow isn’t blinding him, and he comes back freezing as a piece of ice. Ma’s worried he’s gone to take sick and I am too.

Ma and Pa rode into town before Christmas, and we had a good Christmas, Ma even got me this journal and ribbons to mark my pages. Imagine my own book to write in. Ma says I must take care to be sure that my spelling and grammar is right, so I am being extra careful.

Pa’s not good with writing and reading, he left school before he finished two years because he had to work, but Ma makes sure I know how to read and spell right.

She’s real particular about things like that. She says maybe in a couple of years when I am fifteen I can go to teachers college, and then teach at the school that they want to open here.

I tucked the small journal into my pocket and rode home. Mom would have dinner ready soon, and for some reason I didn’t want to leave the journal buried in some whole. It had once belonged to my Great, Great Grandmother, it was hard to imagine but I was holding the history of my family in my hands.

Authors Note:

I wrote this story in 2005, I’ve grown in the craft since then, but some older stories have a way of sticking with you….