Finding Destiny: The Curse Broken

Finding Destiny

The Curse Broken

Gina James

Finding Destiny

By Gina James

Copyright © 2018 by Gina James

ISBN: 978-0-9989239-6-3

Published by True Vine Publishing Co.

P.O. Box 280386

Nashville, TN. 37228

www.TrueVinePublishing.org

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system with the exception of a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper or magazine without permission from the publisher.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover Design: Symmetry Designs

Editing by Alyson Cunningham: First Priority Services

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my four beautiful daughters: Morgan,  Toni, Jordyn, and Ryan.  When hard decisions come my way, you all make me want to be a better woman and mother to teach you all the way to travel this journey called life.  I hope you learn from my mistakes and mimic my triumphs!

Also to my husband Tony.  We have definitely had our ups and downs, but we have found our way back to each other and are doing our best to raise our girls in a loving household.  I love the husband and father that you have grown to be. Thank you for always supporting me.

To my parents Bill and Ginger for all the love that you have given me.  You never gave up on me and supported me through every tough time. I don't know where I would be today if you hadn't decided that I was meant to be your daughter. I love you both!

And lastly, to all my friends and loved ones who want to see me do great things, and push me and encourage me to go after my goals and dreams!

Table of Contents

Introduction

Tennessee Federal Prison Camp 2010

Brenda’s Story

Mary’s Story

Love at First Sight

Destiney Didn’t Get A Choice

Tennessee Federal Prison Camp–Christmas Week

Tennesse Federal Prison Camp 2012

Quincy

Ms. Cece

The Old Man

Strip Search

Pennsylvania Federal Prison Camp 2012

The Haunted Woods

The Darker Side Of Red

Three Lives For Nothing

Breaking The Curse

Fireworks On 4th Of July

Thinking Differently

Bad Decisions: Teaching An Old Dog New Tricks

Crabs In A Barrell

Freedom

Too Good To Be True

A New Beginning

My Lesson

Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards. - Soren Kierkegaard

Generational Curse: the belief that problems, proclivities, and misfortune are inherited from one’s parents or ancestors.

Introduction

My name is Destiney Cartwright. I was born to Brenda Wilson who was given away by her mother—Collette. Collette was also given away by her mother. I don’t know her name. I was given away by Brenda to my adopted mother, Mary, who was also given away by her mother. Recognize a pattern?

Soren Kierkegaard said, Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards. I guess that’s how I found the peace, love, and success I have come to know in my life. I had to find out what made me the way I was, but I also had to keep moving forward to get beyond my problems. So many people can’t move forward. Brenda couldn’t do both.

To understand me, you first have to understand my mother, Brenda. And you also have to know her mother—my grandmother, Collette. I was raised by two of the sweetest people in the world, and as much as my parents tried to protect me from Brenda’s life and decisions, I was bound to repeat them.

Brenda was always in my life. She was like a big sister who was away for college. I didn’t spend much time with her, but every moment I did spend with her was filled with fun memories. I didn’t see a burdened and troubled soul like the rest of the world did. I had loving memories of Momma Brenda: a woman who loved to fish, worked on cars, laughed and played hide and seek with me. I remember the loving and doting woman who would tell me,

One day, when I get myself together, I’m going to come back to get you and it’s going to be me and you, forever.

Lucky for me, I didn’t know her as a drug addict. I didn’t know her as an alcoholic. I didn’t know the woman who my mother would later explain tried to sell me twice. I’m glad I never met that woman, but somehow, as I sit in this jail cell, I feel as though I have followed her every step. How? How did I repeat the destructive decisions of a woman I only saw on weekends?

This is my story.

Tennessee Federal Prison Camp 2010

Visitation was the best part of prison. In spite of the living hell that prison was, the sun always shone bright on visitation day. Even on cloudy, rainy days, it seemed like the sun was shining on me alone. I got a chance to see my baby.

The process for being released into the visitation room was humiliating and dehumanizing.

"Cartwright!" The guard called.

"I’m here!" I walked up with a smile. I saw my family through the cracked door as the previous prisoner walked through.  I couldn’t wait to hold my daughter, smell her, play with her growing hair.

"Strip." The guard was blunt and callous.

Before any prisoner is released to see visitors, the guards first do a strip search to make sure you’re not trying to export anything from the prison, and strip searched again after the visit to make sure you’re not trying to bring anything back in.

"Bend over and spread ‘em."

I turned around, bent over and spread my ass cheeks.

"Cough." The guard commanded.

This invasion of my personal sanctum was all too reminiscent of how I wound up in this shit hole in the first place. I put my clothes back on and rushed out of the doors to see my family.

"Momma!" I yelled in glee as I walked out of the door to see my family. The guards gave a curt disapproving glance. I didn’t give a damn.

The guards were very strict about touching, but never gave me any trouble when it came to holding my daughter. Prison guards have hearts, too. It didn’t hurt that I was a model prisoner, never getting into any trouble. The guard was also attracted to me, always making sly remarks about hooking up when I got out.

Visitation was like having your favorite dessert: every bite is like an eternity of pleasure, but at the same time, it disappears like a vapor. As I held my baby and soaked in the smile on my parents’ faces, I couldn’t contain myself. I knew I had just over one year left, but it was like when you have to use the restroom: the closer you get to the toilet, the more intense the pressure becomes.

As hard as I tried to keep the conversations light on visit days, I couldn’t take it and broke down in tears.

"I can’t take this anymore, Momma and Daddy."

My father reached out just short of touching me.

"Baby, you just have a little while left."

"I know. But I don’t know how I got to this point in my life. What is wrong with me?"

My mother wept.

"Baby, I don’t know. I wish I knew what I did or didn’t do."

I stopped her mid-sentence.

"No, Momma. Don’t do that to yourself. You didn’t do this to me. I did this to myself. I know you taught me better than this. You didn’t make me sell drugs. I made that choice. Maybe I’m cursed to be just like Brenda."

Brenda’s Story

Collette pushed and screamed in the delivery bed. Sadly, her labor pangs were not borne in love. She hated the idea of having another baby. She was in the delivery room alone. Winston, her husband, was an abusive tyrant of a man. She loved him still, but she knew that he was an addict and that a baby was not safe in their home. The thought of bringing another baby into their lives was a huge burden. She had already given away four of her current six children to family members. She didn’t have any more family members that could take this baby.

Alright, you’re almost there, Mrs. Jones. Keep pushing! The nurse said with excitement.  Are you excited to see the baby?

Just get this thing out of me! Collette screamed.

With one more forceful push and scream, out came the slimy body of a crying baby girl.

It’s a girl! The nurse proclaimed.

Collette laid her sweating head back with relief that the ordeal was over. She didn’t even look towards the baby as the doctors cleaned her body and wrapped her in the small blanket. Instead she gazed out of the window into the distance with a single tear falling from the corner of her eye.

Mom, do you want to hold your baby? The doctor asked, handing over the baby. Collette reluctantly took possession of the child. She forced a grin on her face.

Thank you, doctor.

So, do you have a name for your baby girl?

Umm. Not yet.

That’s okay, take your time. A nurse will come in later to get the information for the birth certificate. Just get some rest, he said.

Thank you. Can you take the baby to the nursery, please? Collette asked.

Ok. Sure. Will you be breastfeeding? If so, we can bring her back to feed later.

No. You can feed her formula. Collette rolled onto her side, turning her back to the doctor.

Collette slept all day, refusing offers from the nurses to spend time with the child. The next day, a bed nurse came to attend to Collette. She was an older woman, a grandmotherly figure who felt free to speak her mind and share her words of wisdom. The robust woman mopped the floors humming hymns to herself until finally she stopped abruptly.

Baby girl, the bed nurse said you haven’t seen your baby since you had her. Now that’s not right.

Collette attempted to justify herself.

I’ve just been too tired to care for her properly. This was a hard labor.

Mmhmm the old lady mumbled. I’ve seen hard labors. This is not one of them. You are scared. I can spot a scared mother a mile away. She chuckled to herself. This is your first baby, huh?

Collette let the old woman think she had the situation figured out. She didn’t reply to the question. She just smiled at the lady.

Listen, baby. No matter what, God is always going to make a way. Old folk like me always say ‘God takes care of babies and fools’. So, don’t you worry about how you’re going to take care of this baby. When you walk out these doors, God is going to send the right people to help you.

With those words, Collette felt the worries of her heart float away. She didn’t know how, but she felt like an angel had just walked in the room to calm all of her fears.

It’s going to work out, she thought. Her heart was as light as a butterfly.

Thank you, ma’am. I really needed to hear that. Can you tell the nurse that I’d like to see my baby?

Now that’s more like it the old lady said with a hearty laugh. Everything is going to be alright.

As she walked toward the door to leave, Collette called back.

Ma’am, what was your name?

You can call me Ms. Brenda.

Thank you again, Ms. Brenda.

The nursed wheeled the baby in and Collette held her with a new look of love on her face.

Have you decided on a name? The nurse asked.

Yes. Her name is Brenda.

***

I don’t know what you’re going to do with that baby, but you can’t keep it here, Winston demanded as Collette struggled to get all of her belongings and the newborn child through the door. She had to catch a cab home. Winston refused to pick her up. He was sprawled out on the couch watching television with a cigarette hanging precariously from his lips.

Did you hear what I said?

Collette couldn't ignore the abusive tone again, she wasn’t sure what his next action would be. She had to think about the safety of this vulnerable child.

Yes, Winston. I hear you. I’m working on it. I’ll call my sister as soon as I get settled.

"Good. And keep that damn thing quiet. I don’t want