Barbie Perkins-Cooper, Author

Tag: relationships

  • Domestic Abuse — Just WHEN Will It End???


    Dearest Readers:

    This will probably be the shortest blog I have written in a while. I am busy with life today…cleaning the house, getting dressed to go to the doctor for my last Supartz injection and caring for a husband with a neck ache. I’ve always said my husband is a pain in the neck, and now I suppose that is true!

    Today, I simply must express a bit about domestic abuse. I know lots about the subject matter since I served as the referee between my mother and dad when they fought, sometimes attempting to kill each other from their raging, violent tempers and toxic voices. Back when I was a child, domestic abuse was not an issue or a crime. People simply swept it under the rugs, while whispering “He Beats Her…” Yes, and she “beats him!” Never could I call the police, or 911. Crimes of ‘passion’ from parental hatred and jealousy simply did not exist. Thank goodness our Nation finally recognized that domestic abuse DOES EXIST, and it is definitely A CRIME!

    Yesterday, I got a phone call from a close, respectable friend, sharing with me that one of our co-workers at Johnson & Wales University was killed by her boyfriend. http://www.postandcourier.com/article/20130824/PC16/130829578/1009/boyfriend-charged-with-killing-woman-in-west-ashley&source=RSS

    I am so outraged I could scream. Reportedly, he is in jail now. How I hope and pray he will remain there for the rest of his life, but as we know, these maniacs manage to get out of jail. Reportedly, he beat her badly, leaving internal injuries and strangulation. Obviously, David Reagan meant to kill her. They found an empty purse by her body. He reportedly used her credit cards after the crime, to purchase beer. Just what an abusive maniac needs, isn’t it!

    I don’t have many details at the moment, but I am so sad to hear and read about how Kathy Hawkins died. She was 52 years of age, with a nine-year-old daughter. Like all who succumb to domestic abuse, she did not deserve to die in such a violent manner.

    As I’ve stated, I know a lot about domestic abuse. Not from my husband, or any prior boyfriends before marriage. I observed domestic abuse as a child, standing between my mother and father, telling them it was time to stop the fighting and be nice to each other. When I was five years old, I saw my dad knock my mother to the ground for the first time, leaving her head bleeding from the force of his temper and rage. I made a promise to myself that I would never allow anyone to beat me, and that is what domestic abuse is — a beating — and now, a crime.

    Please, let us do all that we can to STOP DOMESTIC ABUSE. And let us remember, it is not just a crime for women. There are many women in the world who abuse their loved ones, regardless of who they might be. Domestic abuse is wrong. It should end…NOW! No one deserves to die from the violence of someone we once loved and trusted. NO ONE!

    Stop the abuse now – the abuse related to children, spouses, elderly, family members, animals…just abuse in general. I will have more blogs about domestic abuse later..after all, I observed it as a child. Never did I speak about it to others. I was too afraid I would be physically abused because I spoke up. Years later, I do speak up about it. My husband and I rescued one of my sisters from a domestic abuse situation many years ago, moving her closer to get away from a maniac, now ex husband. I will continue to vocalize my beliefs about domestic abuse. I will stand on my soapbox to do all that I can to stop abuse. I’ve seen friends abused and when I do, I react – jumping right into the fire, daring the abuser to hit me. So far, no one has taken my dare. I suppose they know — they will end up in jail. I will not be quiet. I will not walk away, and I will make certain I do not look the other way, like so many people choose to do.

    Kathy Hawkins was the victim I am speaking about today. She is now deceased, from the hands of a boyfriend. Kathy was a lovely, friendly woman who deserved to see her nine-year-old daughter grow into adulthood. She deserved so much more. Rest in peace, Kathy Hawkins. How I hope David Reagan remains in jail, but I doubt it! Someone will probably bail him out.

    More later! Trust me, this issue is not something I will keep to myself. Domestic abuse MUST END! It is a crime. Too many victims are murdered and murder is a crime!

  • Lightning, The Roaring Thunders – And Inner Storms for Charleston, SC And A Child of the Chattahoochee


    Storming outside — reminding me of the many storms I have endured, especially as a child. Still, these storms, especially when I see lightning, take me back to the sadness and pain I hid away for much too long. Perhaps the torrential rains are tears – the tears I cried as a child, then — refused to cry as an adult. Today is a day to go on record…effective next week, I will start a new challenge…

    This is my announcement to my fans, readers, and close friends. Many of you know how long I have played with the story idea I started many years ago. Now, I have convinced myself it is time — time for me to finish “Chattahoochee Child.”

    The story is a complicated one that at first, I had no concept of what it should be about. I kept changing it, basing it on life in the Chattahoochee, within the mill village of Bibb City. Nevertheless, after the death of my mother, I realized I have more material, plot points and characters to bring to life.

    And so, effective next Monday, I will set a new goal — to WRITE! I confess, I have not touched “Chattahoochee Child” in months. While reading about writing today, I realize the subjects in the materials I am reading today are written about me! I can so relate to the inner voice and the inner critic. A dialogue keeps playing with my mind, telling me — “You silly girl. You are NOT a writer.” Another critic shouts, “You’re too stupid to be a writer…Stupid is as stupid does…and YOU, are STUPID!”

    Sometimes at night, while fighting sleep, I hear these words, recognizing they are the words I heard as a child – for much too long. The cold, cruel, ridiculing words from my mother’s lips…And now, I know…I must complete this story. I must write it…shout it…scream it, if necessary, because I am a writer!

    Effective Monday, August 19, 2013, I will write 500 words daily – based on five working days. My goal is to complete “Chattahoochee Child” within six months and begin the marketing aspect of getting this story published.

    I am sharing this with my reading public to force me to complete this story. I must confront my inner critics, inner voices and WRITE!

  • Meeting Influential People Who Change Our Lives – A Toast


    “People…People who need people are the luckiest people in the world…” and so goes the song recorded in September, 1964 by Barbra Streisand. That special song influenced me so much as I grew from childhood, recognizing that during my journey to adulthood I would meet  people…perhaps a person…one very special person…

    “With one person – One very special person… A feeling deep in your soul…Says you are half now you’re whole…No more hunger and thirst…But first be a person who needs people
    People, people who need people…are the luckiest people in the world…”

    As a singer, I’ve rehearsed, and rehearsed to sing “People”, coming to the conclusion that no one sings it better than Barbra Streisand. Never have I sang “People” in public, but there are many times the song plays in my mind, especially when I think about the special people who are in my life.

    I met such a person when I was blessed to meet Theresa Brousseau. A tall brunette, warm, inviting and engaging, Theresa Brousseau and I connected immediately during our first conversation. Engaged to one of her sons for a brief while, when I met her, she became my unofficial adopted mom. After our breakup, she kept in touch with me, sharing advice, guiding me along my way. Over the years, Theresa and I became close friends. Every year at Christmas, we exchanged Christmas cards and phone calls. Sometimes our phone conversations were lengthy, sharing bits and pieces of our lives, sharing stories about her son, his marriage, children, divorce and life.

    During this time, I was married and when Theresa phoned, I let my husband know our conversations were not planned exchanges for us but phone conversations of two dear friends. In all reality, Theresa was more of a mother to me than my mother was. Instead of addressing Theresa by her name, she became “Mom Brousseau.”

    After my marriage, I explained to my husband that Mom Brousseau was someone I wanted to keep in touch with; after all, she embraced me with love when she met me and she continued to share her love over the many years of our relationship.

    Every Christmas our phone conversations shared stories of our lives. She was close to all of her grandchildren, and she was active in the Catholic church and the community of Nashua, New Hampshire. She shared stories of cold weather, especially the snow storms of New England. She asked me if I was happy with my life. Did my husband treat me well? How was my relationship with my mother? When she asked the last question, I became silent. Did I dare share my estranged relationship with my mother?

    A few minutes into this conversation, Theresa listened to my tears. “It’s OK, dear. I know your mother was a hard woman to understand.,..”

    “How did you know?”

    “Remember when we met.”

    My mind drifted back to that special Christmas…the Christmas I met my future-in-laws. I remembered the warm, tight hug Theresa gave me and how I laughed saying “I’ve never had a motherly hug like that…It felt good.”

    Life has a way of changing our plans, along with our dreams, but Theresa and I kept our bonding tight. She was an amazing woman.

    Three years ago it suddenly dawned on me that Theresa and I hadn’t spoken in a while. Her phone number was imbedded in my brain, so I dialed the number, only to reach a recording. Surfing on the Internet, I discovered her home was for sale. Although I attempted to locate her, I wasn’t successful until I checked the obituaries. Reading her obituary, I realized she had passed away in a Hospice. How I hope and pray she was not alone at the Hospice.

    Last night, I dreamed about Theresa again. Tears flow down my face as I think about her and how she influenced my life. Hungering for a mother’s love all of my childhood, Theresa was the one woman who reached out, hugged me and showed me in so many ways how much she cared. To say I miss her phone calls, her laughter, her words of “I love you, Dear,” all are an understatement. No, we were not related. I did not marry into her family, but we shared a bonding, a tight connection, from the moment we first spoke on the phone, on the day her son broke up with me, and future phone calls.

    Theresa Brousseau was one of the most influential people to come into my life. For many years, I was blessed to know her. Now that she is gone, I truly miss her. Theresa, aka — Mom Brousseau, I miss you, your laughter, strength, encouragement and love so very much. If children could choose a parent, no doubt I would’ve chosen you. Rest in peace, while knowing you were a very special person in my life.

    “With one person
    One very special person
    A feeling deep in your soul
    Says you are half now you’re whole
    No more hunger and thirst
    But first be a person who needs people
    People, people who need people…are the luckiest people in the world.”

  • Robin Roberts — A True Lady of Grace!


    Yes, as a writer, I will proclaim that I am a news addict. For many, many years, I was a true groupie of the Today Show, but when they released Ann Curry from the Today Show, I decided to change channels. I did not know who was on Good Morning America until I started watching it, and I must say, I had no idea of the physical struggles of Robin Roberts due to breast cancer. Now, she is fighting MDS, myelodysplastic syndrome. According to the website, Web MD,

    “Myelodysplastic syndrome (MDS) is a condition that affects the bone marrow and the blood cells it produces.

    Your bone marrow makes different types of blood cells:

     Red blood cells, which carry oxygen in your blood.

    Today while watching Good Morning America, I cried while listening to all of the caring people who love Robin Roberts. Martina McBride truly proved what a wonderful performer and role model she is while singing, “I’m Gonna Love You Through It.” Her performance brought tears to my eyes. Those of you who read my blog on a regular basis know that I am a singer, and I love to sing songs that touch the heart. Today, I truly became a devoted fan of Good Morning America. I am praying for the speedy recovery of Robin Roberts and I pray that she will rise above the storms of  illnesses and show all of us that this journey will be not just a stepping stone for her, but an adventure into the true, admirable role model of a woman such as Robin Roberts is today!

    The relationship of Robin and her sister, Sally-Ann Roberts, appears to be a rare, and close bonding of two sisters who are definitely more than siblings. I am so envious. I have three sisters, only one that I am close to, and I cherish her. How I admire people who were blessed to have strong family relationships. It has been an intense journey for me to set the past free and become closer to my sisters. I have only accomplished my goals of family relationships with one. The other two, I wish them the best while praying that someday our ship will come back from the intense storms and find the sunshine in life, not the sorrow. To quote my father a few weeks before he died from esophageal cancer, “Move forward with life. Don’t look back.”

    I have followed my father’s advice and moved forward. I do not dwell on the sad childhood I had. I have grown to look for the sunrises in every morning and I have found peace by giving myself a positive mental attitude.  Every day I repeat the words I live by, “Today is a new day…make it great.” Sometimes I succeed, other times, I fight to pull myself up to smile again. Life isn’t easy, but it is the only life we have. We can choose to dwell on the past and the mistakes made, or we can pull ourselves up to ‘move forward with life.’

    Robin Roberts, I will miss you more than I can express on this blog, and I will be listening every day to hear how your progression is going. I believe in the power of prayer. My faith is a strong one and I know when storms come into my life, all I have to do is to lift my eyes towards the Heavens and say a prayer. Today, I pray for you, Robin, as your journey into another chapter of your blessed life. God is with you. He has provided the life support you need in your sister, Sally-Ann. I am confident that your journey will be successful and real soon, you will look to see a rainbow that will fill your heart with the best of health. May God bless you and your family as you take this journey!

    Robin Roberts, I wish you the best!

  • For the Dads on Father’s Day


    Dearest Readers:

    This Sunday, June 15, 2014 is Father’s Day. I am sharing a post below about Father’s Day. I hope you will enjoy and take the time to appreciate your father or husband or loved one.

    Today is a beautiful day in Charleston, SC. Blue skies, a slight breeze, and gorgeous bright sunshine. Today is truly a day of appreciation — for life, love, family and all that we in America are blessed with, especially on Father’s Day.

    To all the fathers, and the fathers-to-be, I would like to extend a blessed and loving Happy Father’s Day. My wish for you is that all of your children and wives will appreciate all that you are and will spoil you just a bit today. Let us all make the time to say, “Happy Father’s Day,” and to make the time to do something special for Dad. Even if it is only a short phone call to say, “Happy Father’s Day,” please make the time to express your love and appreciation.

    Father’s come in all shapes and sizes, all temperaments and there are times when father’s may not have the patience they need. Becoming a parent doesn’t come with a guide book of instructions, nor do we take classes for parenting. We simply become a parent, hoping we will make the right decisions.

    I lost my father on Tuesday, July 6, 1999. For two years I watched him fighting the debilitating disease of esophageal cancer. I watched his body slowly melting away from him. At first, he was robbed of health, then his strength and independence. Gone was the ability to eat food. His body was attached to a feeding tube, he commonly referred to it as his umbilical cord. He detested it! After his body refused to allow his independence to return, we admitted him to a convalescent center. He coped with his new residency, but was never happy there. Daily, I visited him. At first, he welcomed me with open arms. A few months before he died, he became angry, shouting at me…telling me to leave, and not to come back. His roommate said he was mean to me. “No,”I defended. “He isn’t mean. He just wants me to leave.”

    On July 4, 1999, I saw my dad for the last time. Walking into his room, he was sitting in a chair, reading his Bible. His head lifted to look at me, but he did not welcome me. He continued to recite Bible verses, telling me to ‘go on… get out of here. I don’t want you here.’

    Exhausted, I left in tears. On July 5, I returned to work. Working a bit late, I drove home, completely exhausted. Early in the morning of July 6, I awoke from a frightening nightmare. I suppose you could say, I have the gift (or wickedness) of visions. In this dream my dad was dying. I looked at the clock. It was 3:45 am. I reached for the phone. Dialed a portion of the phone number to the nursing home, stopped dialing, and hung up the phone. I did not go back to sleep.

    That day at work, I phoned the nursing home several times. I was told my dad was doing well, or ‘as well as to be expected.’ Before arriving for my visit, my dad took a fall. He was eating dinner when I arrived. Placing my hand on the door of his room, I met up with a nurse, with an oxygen tank by her side. She motioned for me to move away and not to come inside. I knew what was going on. I screamed.I looked at my watch. It was 5:45pm. Again, a vision I had was coming true!

    Standing next to my dad’s doorway, I listened to the actions of the nurses. They encouraged me to tell them to bring him back. I declined. “No,” I cried. “Just let him go with dignity.”

    The death certificate recorded his death at 6pm. In all reality, he died at 5:45, when I was about to enter his room. This year will be the 15th anniversary of his death. I no longer have a Father to wish “Happy Father’s Day.” Today, I will think of him, as I do every day. I will pray that he will enjoy today with his identical twin brother, his parents and other siblings and relatives. Yes, I miss him, but I know that he is in a better place…no longer attached to an umbilical cord, and now he can take his daily strolls and he can sing again.

    Happy Father’s Day to all of the special men I have been blessed to know in my lifetime. Many of you know who you are! As for me and my husband, I intend to take him to dinner and to spend the day with him. How I wish I could spend the day with my dad, and I wish I could spoil him a bit on Father’s Day. Let us all appreciate the fathers of the world. Let us share kindness and love to them. After all, we never know what tomorrow may bring. Happy Father’s Day with my thoughts, love and kindness! I am blessed to know many of you!