The Beauty Of The Appalachian People

I had an experience recently that inspired this blog post. I was at a meeting, and a gentleman approached me about my book. He was both complimentary and insulting. He said he thought it was a shame that such an eloquent writer as myself wrote such hogwash. I chose to focus on the positive and accept the compliment that I was an eloquent writer, which allowed me to ask without being defensive why he thought it was hogwash. He said he didn’t think anyone should discuss unpleasant topics, adding that those who do must follow a particular politician he didn’t like. I answered that I understood his discomfort with difficult topics, but I wasn’t willing to surrender my book series for the comfort of a few. I informed him my goal was to help people heal. I thought healing would come from the last book of the series. To my great surprise, people began contacting me shortly after the first book’s publication to share how the book helped them heal.

It could have been a problem that he didn’t respect my boundary. He pushed me to surrender my book series for a couple of hours. It is never okay for someone to disrespect your boundaries; however, I was pleased that the personal growth I worked so hard to achieve allowed me to hold my boundary. He finally admitted that he didn’t want to accept the uncomfortable reality that abuse exists. He said he wanted to exist in his safe bubble. I acknowledged that was his right. I also informed him that prevents a person from making a positive difference in the world, and I hoped to make a positive difference. That somewhat uncomfortable two-hour encounter ended on a very positive note.

I am happy it ended on a positive note, both in our conversation and in my spirit. When I used to let people conquer my boundaries, my spirit felt shame and pain. Those feelings were lasting since it takes more effort to recover your boundaries than to relinquish them. Securing my boundaries felt so good that I knew my personal growth and healing work will always be worth it.

Out of respect for those who are uncomfortable with painful truths, this blog post will focus on the positive side of Appalachia. One side of my lineage had experiences that required healing; the other side resembled The Waltons. Many Appalachian experiences are positive. I grew up between the two extremes. I once wrote, “I feel like I’m walking on a tight rope between heaven and hell, and I must decide which side I will fall on.” Unfortunately, some people from my generation fell on the hell side. They brought some pollution to the positive side by negatively misrepresenting the people who can reveal their sins, but I still see how beautiful the people on the positive side are.

Around the same time this gentleman approached me, I experienced something positive and beautiful. A virtually unknown (which surprises me since she is so good) Appalachian songwriter and singer, Jenny Adkins, shared a song. In that song, she shared a prayer her father prayed that said, "Give us just enough, Lord, but don't give more than we need, because I know there's folks around us that need it more than me." I got her permission to share that song in this blog post, and here is a link to that song: <iframe src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fjenny.adkins.3386%2Fvideos%2F490138751359655%2F&show_text=0&width=634" width="634" height="476" style="border:none;overflow:hidden" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" allowTransparency="true" allowFullScreen="true"></iframe> .

That song reminded me of a story from the positive side of my lineage. When my Grandmother died, I was in shock. That kept me from remembering everything, but I remember one beautiful thing clearly. We were in a lawyer’s office discussing my Grandmother’s will. The lawyer couldn’t give the money away. Everyone was concerned that someone else needed it more. Grief made my mind fuzzy, but if I remember correctly, an uncle eventually put his foot down that the money should go to my Mom. He knew caregiving for their mother and medical bills had forced my Mom to ignore much-needed home repairs. He insisted she take the money to put a roof on her house. Everyone agreed when they isolated the greatest need. That kind of generosity is what most mountain people are known for.

There are even people from the negative environment who had this kind of generosity. My father was left physically handicapped by child-abuse he received in the negative environment. In spite of this, he welcomed my Grandmother into his home with open arms when she became ill. She often kept him awake all night. He was illiterate, so he was only able to get manual labor jobs. He was already suffering from the pain of doing those jobs and the exhaustion of that pain keeping him awake at night, yet he never said a negative word about the additional hardships my Grandmother’s care caused him. Even though he grew up in violence, that mountain still nurtured his generosity.

The generosity of my parents and my mother’s family touched me so deeply it is the root of my own generosity. My appreciation for them deepened after my mother’s example led me to be a caregiver for her and other family members who needed care. I had little to no help when I was a caregiver in a city that was not Appalachian and when I was putting my life and my home back together after caregiving, partly because of those from my generation who fell on the hell side of the tightrope, and that made me appreciate what angels people who help a caregiver are.

I met many caregivers when I was a caregiver in a city that was not Appalachian. Their experiences repeatedly emphasized the generosity of most mountain people. Most of them had little to no help and experienced property battles after the person they were caring for passed away. One caregiver I know is currently on the brink of homelessness due to property battles weighing more than her needs. There seems to be no gratitude for the many years she spent being the sole caregiver for family members. There seems to be no recognition of her needs now that it is over. I have seen that so many times.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by the property battles in a city that was not Appalachian. Before I was a caregiver, I worked in corporate America. I worked with many people who came from money. Several times some of them bragged about how rich they were going to be when their parents passed away. They were anxiously anticipating their parents’ death. They often upset me so much that I tearfully talked to my mother about how horrible it was. How can money ever be more important than the life of a beloved parent?

At this time, I am focusing on healing subjects, because my current book series was inspired by the people on the hell side of the tightrope – people whose hardships broke enough of them that it made it hard for everyone. This path was chosen for me when some of those people asked me to write their stories. To protect their privacy, I compiled all of the stories into one and let that compilation inspire a fictionalized version – a compilation so based on inspiration instead of people’s individual stories that I believe that is why it touches many people from many backgrounds that have a history of abuse. This path has been chosen for me by the surprising number of people who told me what has been written so far is helping them heal. The good news is, I will not be stuck here, and neither will my readers.

I will soon be publishing a book of my Mom’s many positive and humorous stories that she told me all of my life. My hope is that the fictionalized compilation will bring healing to people with similar experiences and that the stories from the positive side of my lineage will bring laughter and joy to people. Life has many nuances – there is a time for every season under heaven. Sometimes bad things happen, but healing can come. Sometimes good things happen, and that makes life worth living. And family, both good and bad, is a blessing. Even if you have to be separated from some of your family for personal safety reasons, the love you have for them that leads you to pray for them is a blessing in itself.