I had planned to "retire" from the Internet on New Year's Day 2000. I felt that I had done more than my fair share to help others find their roots and families of origin. Those of you who read my " Love Story" know why I did my Families Of Steel(e) Internet project in the first place.

I have always been "strong and independent" (or so I thought). During my husband's battle with brain cancer, I kept asking God what he wanted me to do with the rest of my life. He gave me strength that I never knew I possessed but I kept asking him the same question over and over during Ron's illness and after Ron died.

For a long time after I lost Ron and all of our hopes and dreams for the future were changed when the last breath left Ron's body, I felt lost. I have done more physical work since Ron died than I ever thought I could do in two life times but for nearly 3 years after he died, I felt that someone had cut off my arms and legs and that I was just floundering in space with no real direction nor purpose other than to search my soul, trying to re- invent myself and find answers. At times I even questioned the reason for my very existence. If you read my story, scattered in stories of my parents and grand parents through out my websites, you will find that my MAJOR behavior pattern is to meet and confront problems head on, to resolve the external and internal conflict. Once I have done that, my pattern has always been to RUN. This appears to be a multi-generational pattern that has been passed from genereation to generation in many Fannin and Steele descendants. We can find this pattern in our ancestor David Fannin. We have also found that many withdrew into alcohol and other drugs; [Running and withdrawal]- MAJOR behavior patterns in our direct line of descent. There was no drug abuse nor alcohol abuse in my own family of origin. Neither of my parents even smoked, but running and withdrawing from stressful situations is definitely evident as major coping mechanisms. This can be very healthly when our safety and emotional health are threatened, but the negative side is, that this same behavior pattern can also keep us from growing and having healthy, loving relationships.

On the day that the doctors told me that Ron was dying, I refused to accept it. I was in denial and I just was not ready to let him go. I begged the doctors to increase his medication and reduce the swelling in his brain so that I could tell him one last time how much I loved him. There was one very compassionate doctor who insisted that my wishes be carried out. He told me to go home and that he would call me as soon as they were through working with Ron. It was about 12 miles from the hospital in Johnson City, Tennessee to our temporary home on the Doe River in Tennessee. I have no recollection of how I got there. It was towards the end of February and I went home to our little house on the Doe River to wait for the Dr's call.

It had rained for several days and the Doe River was swollen and muddy and raging. I remember getting out of the car and and not wanting to go in the house. Apparently I decided to attempt to move a tree that had fallen on our property while Ron was ill, but I have no recollection of it. Five healthy, grown men had tried to move the tree in the several months it had been there. One man broke two chain saw blades attempting to cut the tree into smaller pieces. It was like a rock and they couldn't budge it even an inch. You can see the tree in the picture above, but you can't see how tall it was. It was huge! It is to the left side of the drive way, and the largest one in the picture. No one was there when the tree fell, but when we took Ron to Tennessee for the last time the tree was laying parallel to the drive way. It was not in the way, but it had bothered Ron that it was interfering with the beauty of the view of the his beloved river. Like we often let "objects" or events from our past interfere with our view of the present.

On that day when the Dr. sent me home from the hospital, rational thinking would have told me that it was impossible for me to move that tree, but it was as though I was totally disconnected from my body and anything that was going on around me. The first rational thought that I had was when I removed my hands from the muddy tree and saw and heard the splash of that huge tree crashing into the river! That little river was muddy and RAGING, and the tree had been several feet from the river's edge. I felt a sense of relief and calm come over me as I walked through the mud and up on the porch and into the house. I could almost literally feel Ron's strong arms around me and I remember thinking that it was as though his strength had been transferred to me in some way.

As I walked into the house, I thought, "I better get out of these muddy shoes and clothes before I track mud through the house". When I looked down, there was not even a speck of mud on my black high heeled shoes nor on the the black silk pant suit that Ron had bought me for a special occasion several years previously. My hands were wet, but there was not a speck of mud on them after having them on that muddy tree!

I felt like I was in a dream and needed to wake up and have something "concrete" to "ground" me. I was not familiar with "super natural" experiences and the unexplained power of God from such a personal level.

I went to the phone and called my sister Ruth, who lives in Michigan. I told her what had happened and true to our family patterns, "older sister" yelled at me in a stern but loving voice. She yelled, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? You are in that God forsaken place alone and could have been washed away and no one would even have known it and we may never have found you!" That was reality all right! But the REAL reality was that God moved that tree and he showed me what he meant when he gave us the parable, "Faith is as a grain of mustard seed." It was God's arms that I felt around me when Ron was dying, just like it had been his voice that I heard the evening that we found out that Ron was terminally ill. On that first evening, I heard a voice like thunder that shook my entire body, I heard and felt the voice simply say, "It will be all right." I was not sure if had heard my own inner voice or if God truly spoke to me. It was unlike anything I had ever heard or felt. Whatever it was, I thought that it meant Ron would get well, but God knows what is best and he knows when to take us HOME. The voice was right- although it was not the message that I thought I was receiving nor the one that I wanted to receive. That was the beginning of the second stage of my grief- DENIAL. Shock was the first stage- when we learned that he had cancer.

Ron did live long enough after the tree "incident" to hear Randy and me tell him over and over that we loved him. I know he heard us, because after the increase in his medication that was no longer affective, the doctor said Ron could hear us because he was able to move his eyes and follow the doctor's instructions to follow his hand with eye movement. Ron knew that we loved him- it was our own need to tell him and our inability to "let go."

In my grief before Ron died, I had promised him that I would write a book to help people cope with Glio Blastoma Multiform, that the neuro-surgeon told me was the fastest growing and most deadly form of cancer. Ron had not asked me to write the book but I wanted to do it for him. There was nothing in the professional literature and nothing to really tell families what to expect and how to cope with the mechanics and psychological aspects of the illness. Ron's doctors in both Michigan and Tennesse had said they would help me with the medical section, because they said it was a frustration of their own that there was nothing in the Medical libraries nor professional literature specifically on the subject of how to help the families cope with Glio Blastoma Multiform. The most important lesson that I learned through all of it was that no matter what happens, it is really true that God does not allow us to suffer more pain than we can bear.

After Ron died, it was my mission in life- to write a book for the professional (Social Work) literature, to help families who were going through what we went through. I just couldn't do it. The words would not come and I felt so very guilty because I just couldn't do it. I thought it was because it was too hard to relive it every time I sat down to write. In reality, it was because when writng professional articles or books, it is not "professional" nor "appropriate" to mention God and his ability to heal all pain and sickness. I was definitely in pain, because I was losing my "soul mate". My professional training helped immensley, but it was the love of God and the fact that he revealed himself and his love to me first hand that got me through it.

After Ron died, my friends and family kept telling me I should go back to work and/or find a romantic relationship. I was happy and content and I had a goal but I was RUNNING. I kept physically moving to different states (four of them in less than three years.) I was running from what I know now that God was trying to show me the entire time. I didn't know where I wanted to live (still don't. All the while, I kept asking God to please just show me what he wanted me to do with the rest of my life. I had pretty much gone as far with my genealogy research as I could go, but I had not published most of it. I didn't want to go back to work- I liked being retired.

God had been giving me signs and messages all along, but I just didn't "get it." Oh, in reality, I got it all right; I just didn't want to do it. I didn't want to bare my soul for the world to see. The reason I couldn't write something for the professional literature was because God wanted me to use myself and my own experiences to help others- not to write a detached "case study" nor a book filled with professional "jargon" that only select groups would see. He wanted to use ME. I know now that there is no set formula to help people cope specifically with Glio Blastoma Multiform. Our coping skills are learned early in life and only through education, therapy and hard work and most of all faith in God, can we get through traumatic life experiences and stay healthy, both physically and emotionally.

I have pretty much written my story, and shared my genealogical research, so I was going to "hang it up" and do my "own thing" beginning in the year 2000. Our "own thing" is not always what God wants us to do. He tells each of us what to do and how to do it, but we don't always listen and do what is not only best for us, but also for others.

I know this is a long message and that some have not read this far, but I wanted to share three pieces with you that were very inspirational to my decision to continue with the websites as long as God tells me that is what I am supposed to be doing with my life. I am not positive that my Mother was not inspirational in the following message ending up in my email box. I know this is how Mother felt, but her message was not always this soft and sweet. She loved us all deeply with a Mother's love, but sometimes she sent this message through threats and even beatings, because that was the only way she knew to how to love us. It was the way she had been taught by her own parents to love and discipline children. She did grow and realize her mistakes and asked for forgiveness for them. (Or Mother knew, as Jodi would say- God allows U turns.) I know the following poem that I recently recieved through email is how I felt about my own children and how I still feel about them even though they are in their 40s. I also know that I was not this soft and sweet with them as they became teen agers, but this is how I felt and still do. I believe that this poem is what I was supposed to do with this website, by publishing my genealogy and turning it into a Christmas Homecoming project. I had no intention of doing that when I first started, but I do try to go where God leads me these days, because he is in charge here, even though I still rebel sometimes as all his children do.

The next piece that I want to share, made made me realize that God is not ready for me to retire from the Internet. God has mended me and turned me around so many times that sometimes I think there is so much glue holding me together that my parts are like a jig saw puzzle that could fall apart at any time. Then I realize that Jesus is the glue that holds us all together.

Learning WHEN to "let go" seems to be one of the hardest lesson for most of us to learn, (next to true forgiveness.)

The picture at the top of this page is very special to me. The first time we went there, Ron said, "I'm not taking my bus down in that hole." (He was referring to our tiny little motor home, that was a converted van.) We ended up buying that "hole" because once we walked down the driveway, we realized that the "hole" was not what it seemed.

It was beautiful and picture perfect. That "hole" ended up being where Ron and I spent the most precious times of our lives, as well as the saddest. If you look closely at the picture, you can see P. Doodle's tracks (my little dog who God blessed me with and allowed me to have for nineteen years.) You can only see the tracks leading away from the house and you can't see little P. Doodle because he was just a speck on the landscape in the snow. The picture was taken before he made his "U turn." (Thank's for sending me that at just the right time, Dear Jodi.) Mom (Dodie) was standing on the porch, watching P. Doodle, to make sure he made the right decision and came back "HOME." P. Doodle has taught me more about unconditional love than I was able to comprehend before he came into my life. Perhaps that is why God gave us pets.

Jodi sent me this last message that was being passed around on mailing lists last year and she and I have discussed this in-depth as it relates to ourselves and our own families.

THE BUILDER
An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer- contractor of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family. He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by. The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career. When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter "This is your house," he said. "My gift to you." What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.

So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than acting, willing to put up less than the best. At important points, we do not give the job our best effort. Then, with a shock, we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized, we would have done it differently.

Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity. The plaque on the wall says, "Life is a do-it-yourself project." Who could say it more clearly?

Your life today is the result of your attitudes and choices in the past.Your life tomorrow will be the result of your attitudes and the choices you make today.
-author unknown

The choice I am making today is based upon where I believe God has led me. My work (which I believe is his assignment for me and YOU) is not finished. If the Y2K bug wipes it all out, we can just make a U turn and go wherever Jesus leads us. I refuse to be like the builder in the story above, but then, I had lots of "carpenters" helping me build this "home" on the Internet." Like the builder in the story above, I am old and tired and would like to "do my own thing," but I realize that I must be about my "father's business." A lesson that Jesus taught us when he was only 12 years old. Jesus, our Heavenly Father was also a "carpenter" and he gave us all the tools we needed to build our "HOMES."

This "Home" on the Internet will not be completed until the last child is HOME and or when Jesus tells me it is time to "let go". That is my choice, because it is also his choice..

What choice will you make today? Will you build an inferior "house" like the the old builder in the story, or will you build a "HOME" where the gates of Hell (such as bitterness and hate and apathy) shall not prevail against it? COME ON HOME TO JESUS everyone, and lets celebrate his Birthday by truly loving ourselves and others......Even loving the ones who have hurt us and wronged us.

Have you accepted Jesus as your personal Savior? If you can feel him tugging at your heart strings, just fall on your kness OR lift your hands and heart to him in prayer, right there in front of your computer. Tell him that you believe that he died for your sins and ask him to forgive your sins. It is as simple as that. If you are a Christian, give thanks for his many blessings in your life and pray for others who have not yet found the right road. As Jodi says, sometimes we take the wrong roads, but God allows U turns. He loved us enough to forgive our sins and to die for us. He loves you and me and he will never turn us away. He will never neglect us and if we just love him and follow him, we will all be at "HOME" with our Heavenly father some day. There will even be some of the earthly parents who abused and neglected their children there too...... GOD FORGIVES ALL, IF WE JUST ASK.

I ask Christians to please pray for me that I will keep growing and stop trying to "fix" all the broken "toys" and to know when to let God do his work and when to "let go." I was an excellent therapist, but in my personal life, I keep trying to "fix" it rather than let God do his work through me.

Thank you DEAR SWEET TERRY for finding this version of Precious Memories for me to use on this page and for being there when I most needed a friend almost two years ago. I know the trauma that you have to relive every year at this time and I pray that God will keep his arms around you, especially at this time of year. Thank you, MY GOOD FRIEND DONNA, for teaching me to use a computer and how to maintain a website and for being there for me almost two years ago. Thank you DEAR PRECIOUS JODI for always being there and for your love and for the major contributions you have made to Families of Steel(e). I could go on and on about the very special people in my life, so please don't feel slighted if I didn't mention you here. Thank you to the people whose poems and inspirational messages I have used here. I wish I knew your names. You said it so much more eloquently than I could have said it.