I ask myself this many times, especially in a crisis. Faith means different things to many people. It’s a belief, trust, confidence, creditability, and sometimes, hope that pulls you through a situation. These feelings make you loyal and devoted to your understanding or assumption that you are right. We want something to hold on to so we can get over the problem we are facing.
They say the topics of politics and religion should not be discussed because they cause many disagreements that lead to arguing, fights, or worse, killings. I think we get our strong positions with faith by how we are brought up by our parents. They pass-down their judgment on what and how they were taught on a topic by our grandparents. The cycle continues down into each generation.
Imagine if we were brought up to see no difference with a person of a different race or culture than us. What a world we would have. Wars are not between military men and women fighting, it’s the governments in each country that bring us into one.
Atheists believe there is no God, some people believe in miracles while others believe that a problem had been resolved came from a scientific result. To save time with disagreements, I guess you could say that no one is right or wrong, because it is what you believe yourself to be true.
I have to admit our family is Catholic and my father made sure we all went to church on Sunday morning either with our without him. No excuses were accepted, unless you had a fever and were sick in bed. Since I was thirteen, I loved going to Mass. In my days, the church doors were always kept open.
I would have to pass our church to meet my friends for our walk to an ice cream place after supper..our homework had to be completed. Never did I go by without entering the church, walked down the aisle, and sat for a few moments in a pew facing the statues of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. The peace is hard to explain, but I cherished those moments. We never went by a church in a car without blessing ourselves with the sign of the cross.
Now being grownup, I thank my father for his firm hand in making us go. What would I do if I had no faith? Would I have any morals, be kind to another person, pray for someone, or believe that there is no life after death? I’d wonder why we were put on earth and for what reason?
My faith had been strong when I tried to hold on to my marriage with an alcoholic. Not having the knowledge that the alcoholic had to change themselves, I tried for 14 years trying to find ways to make him stop. From the stress, I had a small breakdown and blamed God for our suffering because he wasn’t helping us.
What I didn’t face was that God gives us choices; Richie’s had been to stop drinking or stay with the decision to keep abusing his body, and my choice was to keep living with the confusion, fear, and abuse or do something about it. Now, I realize that I had pushed myself mentally and physically beyond what my body could take without seeing any results and staying in a very unhealthy environment for me and my daughters. (Story in Someone Stop This Merry-Go-Round: An Alcoholic Family in Crisis)
My faith came alive in 1990 when I watched my father, Brigadier General, Albert L. Gramm, dying of cancer at eighty-years old. He had been one of the commanding officers of the 26th Yankee Division during WWII, fighting in Metz, Lorraine and the Battle of the Bulge. He promised Our Blessed Mother if she brought him home safely to his family, he would say the rosary until he died. He had been struggling to concentrate on the prayer near the end. My family said them for him and it was the first time, I learned the rosary. I say them daily. I watched the devotion of my father and his love for the Virgin Mary, I realized I wanted God back in my life. Without Him, my life was in turmoil. It brought me to the realization that we are all going to die. Jesus said, “If you believe in me, you will live.” (Story in A Spiritual Renewal: A Journey to Medjugorje)
Three miracles happened to me after my father’s death. One of them occurred when I was packing to go to the hospital for surgery. Out of nowhere, I heard “inside” my head a voice that said, “Don’t be Afraid, I’ll be with you!” A warm feeling entered my head from outside, traveled through like lightening to the end of my toes to my fingers. Instantly, peace came over me. If someone said they experienced this, I would have laughed my head off. “Oh, Yeah!!”
I was afraid to tell Al, thinking he would send me to the Funny Farm. It was two months later, when I watched a show on spiritual miracles. During WWII, a soldier was in a tank and was petrified that he was going to die. A voice said to him, “Don’t be afraid. You will not die.” He had explained the same peace that came over him after the same vibrations went through his body that I had happen. It was then that I shared my miracle with Al. ( Story in A Spiritual Renewal a Journey to Medjugorje)
Faith can pull many through the death of a loved one. The six visionaries at Medjugorje said Our Lady calls each person herself when you take a trip to this remote village in Bosnia where she is still appearing each day since 1981. It’s there where I felt a sampler of heaven when I took a ten day pilgrimage to this location. I believe The Blessed Mother gave me the strength to go through Lori’s death and had planned on me to write about my life and loss and started me on the journey with my talks on spiritual changes and alcohol abuse.
When I go to any church, I notice all the different statues of Jesus on the cross. I find it odd that not one shows him with the true pain that He went through. He looks clean with nails in His hands and feet. I saw reality in Medjugorje when I went to the Oasis of Peace. This tiny chapel had a full-size statue of a man..Jesus.
Yes, we forget he was a human like us. They had hair on his body, with blood coming down His face dripping off his toes from the crown of thorns dug deep into his skull. The five thousand and some cuts on his body (told to St. Bridget during an apparition) showed the scorning. He had one gash so large that his beating took a chunk of flesh out of his shoulder down to his bare bone. He had to carry the cross with His unbearable pain. I wanted to wrap the statue up and take it to every land for people of all faiths to see what He actually went through for us.
Why? because he died for our sins so that we can have life after death. Jesus was a Man who was nothing but love and full of mercy who died so we can live and look at how many of us are living! Sin and crimes are pushed aside like they are normal ways to handle our problems.
Faith is what gets me through my days that are good or bad. I can’t picture waking up without prayer and not thanking God for the day ahead of me. I go to bed at night thanking him for my gifts he gave me, whether it’s from seeing a loved one, having me meet a new person where we touched each other’s heart, money to buy the food for the family, or anything else good that came my way. Even a bad day is a gift so I can learn from what I did or didn’t do right.
Faith is a gift from God if we open our hearts. The problem with being human is we want to see or feel the gifts and blessings we get during the day. Our Lady told the visionaries that people would not believe the graces God has for each of us but we don’t ask for them.
Our Lady told the visionaries that a Mass said for the dead is the greatest action to get that person closer to heaven. Sitting in Adoration in a chapel with God present is one of the highest graces bestowed on us. Prayer will end wars and no one thinks of what can save our world.
Faith and believing will never make us feel alone.
Books are available in paperback and Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=alberta+sequeiraAlberta
It’s been a year of hearing loses from our family members who drank or had been on heroin. How sad. Cousins and friends crying to me with the pain of loss. It’s still hard to bring them comfort when it’s been eight years since Lori died from her drinking, and I still hurt and cry. None of us really get over the pain with losing anyone we loved. We go on because that is what we have to do to survive. Going into a corner and not coming out is not what the dying want us to do. They are at peace. We are the ones left with the empty gap and hole that will never be filled.
I think what they are really looking for is just someone to listen. I feel that way a lot. I need someone to vent to so the heavy guilt of what I didn’t do or did wrong will become lighter, even if I did the best to help at the time. We all have no answers or the knowledge to tell another that this will make them feel good again.
When will the count from the dying go down around the world from alcohol and drug abuse? How did we get to the point that drug dealers were not stopped in the beginning, people had the means to market the drugs, drinks given to the minors, allowing wild home parties, college kids thinking this is cool, and the list can go on. We can’t watch our kids every moment and we believe where they say they are going or with whom.
I have heard people say, “What kind of parents did they have?” Good ones! What our kids do, does not mean we were bad parents. Once they go out the door, we trust them. I had to bring my two daughters up by myself while living with an alcoholic husband and after his death. I did the best I could with three jobs to support the house for them to stay in a familiar place. I didn’t want them to suffer from their parent’s mistakes. I have to live looking back at my opportunities that I feel I missed at certain times to talk more often to Lori. Not knowing until she was thirty-seven that she was an alcoholic and fighting bulimia, let a lot of her years go by with her drinking and getting deeper into the problem. Two years of three alcoholic stays in rehabs did nothing for her, and we watched her die taking her off life-support. What pain for a family.
A useless death. A child that had love, a home, marriage, two kids, and she grew up with hanging out with the kids thinking drinking was fun. Her one remark to me was, “Mom, you may think I am crazy, but the best time of my life was during my drinking days.” I believe to her it was, but Lori didn’t realize, even after she had watched her dad die in a hospital bed from his teenage years of drinking, that she was on the same road. She feared dying like him and did without fighting for life.
We do the best we can. This is such a different world than the one I was brought up in with my growing years. Years where school was fun going to, having friends and getting a good education. So many kids go to school and party while the pockets of parents become empty trying to help them. It’s a world of drink, drugs, parties and going crazy!
Growing up, we had a mother that greeted us coming home from school. Today, both have to work and the kids have no guidance. I am not blaming them. To survive in this world financially, you need two jobs. Parents back then had respect from their kids. They knew how far they could and couldn’t go. Kids saw authority in police, teachers or anyone they came in contact with, even relatives. Aunts, uncles and parents are now called by their first names. Nothing seems to scare our kids. Why? because to me the law changed with telling parents how to discipline their kids. It’s good when actual beatings occur, but the normal way of bringing kids up today stopped. Children have the run and control of the parents. Schools stopped having prayer because of “one” person, they have stopped handle kids that are out-of-hand, because the parents might get upset. Back in my days, we feared the teacher telling our parents more than the punishment.
We have violent and angry people showing it by committing so much crime. Tearing a town apart with any reason that upsets them, and they get away with it. We give too much to our kids. Instead of wanting, desiring and concentrating on doing something with their lives, they want the parents to give and give. Kids get out of school and sit in front of a television set, play games, or whatever entertains them, and expect to live at home and have parents support them the rest of their lives. I feel for parents who have kids with no motivation.
I have no answers to this. You fear knowing your child is going down this path and panic when you see nothing is opening their eyes to where they are heading. Very few go into substance abuse recovery programs and get out of denial to get better. I believe doctors and counselors should study more why they are using more than the disease. Things from the past may have turned their lives upside down and they bury the pain and abuse deep within them and act out by drinking to drown their past.
I believe we need to start at the early age in grammar school. You think not? Read What is and isn’t Working for the Alcoholic and Addict and learn how five and seven year old kids started with their drinking. It is a book for family (with advice on enabling) doctors, counselor, society and other addicts to learn what 34 alcoholic and drug addicts from all walks of life and the US and Canada believe is and hasn’t worked in recovery.
Books are available in paperback and Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=alberta+sequeiraAlberta
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A Spiritual Renewal written for a reason
OCTOBER 10, 2014
My first book is A Spiritual Renewal: A Journey To Medjugorje, is a memoir about love, faith and miracles. This book is a heart-felt story of my life with my father, Brigadier General, Albert L. Gramm, who had been one of the commanding officers of the 26th Yankee Division during WWII fighting in some of the famous battles like Metz, Lorraine and The Battle of the Bulge.
In 1990, I started to realize while he was dying of cancer that I never took the time to know this great man. I watched him struggling to say his rosaries everyday, but he couldn’t concentrate. Our family took over for him and I came to learn he had promised Our Lady that if he had come home safely to his family, he would say them everyday; a promised that had never been broken. That had been my first time learning that blessed prayer and still continue to this day.
He had wanted to go to Medjugorje, a tiny, remote village in Bosnia where The Blessed Mother has been appearing to six visionaries every day since 1981, starting when they were ten to sixteen years old. He was hoping for a miracle, but was too sick.
The visionaries are receiving ten secrets from Our Lady, and when they receive all of them a priest, who they have chosen, will slowly announce them. There are two visionaries with only one more secret to receive.
Witnessing my father’s faith with the rosary and having had three miracles that had happened to me, brought me to this holy town that changed my life. I call Medjugorje “A Sampler of Heaven.” I brought God back into my life. That ten day pilgrimage directed me down the path to share this story and my other books on my life living with an alcoholic husband.
How fast time goes. I was last talking about making it through the holidays. Now winter is starting to show us that it's here. Living in Rochester, MA, down by the Cape Cod area, we have been lucky with no "real "storms"...until the past week and more coming Monday! Until then, we only had dusting of snow, some ice, but no need to be plowed out. After all, it's winter!
Every year at this time, I can't help but think and feel for the homeless, the alcoholic and drug users all suffering away from home and living outside. Yes, a lot of them are living this way by their choice, but how is it in the USA or any country that people have nowhere to go for shelter? I wonder how they even survive.
If God had blessed me with a fortune, I'd love to have locations built for these poor people. So many of us take our money, homes, family, cars, the ability to put food on the table, and live the American dream for granted. I wonder how the ones who have lost this security and love from family feel fighting their alcohol or drug addictions alone?
I remember my daughter, Lori, having all the above until she had been kicked out to "get her act together" as we thought she needed back then for her to reach rock bottom and ask for professionals with her illness. Never hearing from her, had my nerves in knots during the freezing cold in February of 2006. The year she died in November. It was then that we got a call from her so-called girlfriend telling us that she gave Lori an apartment with the promise of paying her rent when she got a job, and she wasn't. The girl wanted to call the cops to get her out.
Al and I took a ride to pick her up when her friend was going out for the night with her family and gave us her address to pick Lori up. We knocked on the door a few times with no answer. We opened the door to a world that I only heard about from people, saw on television or heard on the radio.
We walked into the so-called living room with no carpet or furniture, except a rocking chair, Lori's broken-down TV set, and a pillow thrown on the wooden floor for her to sleep. Making our way into the kitchen, we found no food or drink in the refrigerator or cabinets. NOTHING!
But the worse was having an icy, cold, feeling hit our face and body when we walked into the apartment. The heat was turned off with the hopes of forcing Lori to leave on her own. How can a so-call friend do that to someone? It's against the law in the first place. My respect for her disappeared knowing she had no guilt doing this to my daughter or any person.
Lori had nothing and no held onto pride instead of having called family to help her. Her belongings of clothing were all placed in one large, black, trash bag.
We opened a door off the living room to enter a bedroom with two twin beds, which we assumed were her friend's daughter's room. The first to hit me was the blast of hot air from the heat in their side of the home. Going down the stairs, we found Lori sitting on a couch, drinking; I gathered liquor from her glassy eyes.
She light-up with excitement when she saw us both as we informed her we were taking her home with us. We gathered the little left in her life into the car. Al drove hers with Lori in it, and I followed with tears seeing where her life had come.
Once we got home, we placed her belongings in the sunroom and sat in the living room on the couch to watch television. No one discussed what had happened in her life or where she has been since leaving home. We acted like normal people who had grown up in an alcoholic family. Discussions were pushed under the rug and we acted like nothing bothered us.
She came over to me and pushed her back up against my chest, and I placed my arms around her to pull her in closer. I smelled liquor on her breath and didn't care; she was home.
Lori said, "If you only knew, Mom, how good it feels with you holding me." Words that will stay in my heart and mind until I die.
I choked back tears wondering how many months went by with her desire for my arms around her or anyones from the family. Little did I know that would be the last time that I would hold my daughter in my arms. Thirty-nine years of age, and yet a child being held. She had been in three alcohol rehabs and was still in denial. Fearing to die like her father, she traveled down the same path.
Pride and the need for drinking kept her away from reaching out to us. I ran my fingers through her long, curly, jet-black hair that was tangled and once beautiful. What had this poor lost soul been going through was the only thing on my mind.
I then told her to go upstairs and take a hot bath. After I gave her a pair of my winter pajamas, I filled the tub.
"Take your time and relax," I said to her.
I went into the spare bedroom and setup a picture of her son and daughter on the nightstand and turned the electric blanket on to warm her cold body.
Entering the room, she saw her kid's pictures, and smiled, "Mom, you put the kids pictures here!"
I told her those were the two reasons to get back on her feet. Getting under the covers, her remark was, "Oh, it's so warm!" as she pulled the covers up to her neck.
Each night, Al and I had slept with our electric blanket on and had food on the table and our heat turned on, while Lori was lost in a world of alcoholism. Nothing could have been more painful for me to witness. This was not the life I gave her as she grew up.
I wrote about this scene in my sequel, Please, God, Not Two: This Killer Called Alcoholism. The scenes that are kept behind closed doors are a reality in the memoir of alcoholic families. The truth on the pain and emotions that reach every member of the unit.
If you have a loved one roaming the streets, trying to put their life together, do everything in your power to help them. They may be beyond having the strength to do anything to help themselves.
Yes, these are my thoughts every winter when it arrives and I realize the poor, lost souls will be out in the cold with nowhere to go or be behind closed doors with the warmth of family. We need to open our hearts up to the alcoholic and drug addicts. They were good people before the demon of alcoholism reached them.
I realize that sometimes family members have lost hope and belief that their sick one will seek recovery, and you give up on them ourselves. Don't! This way, if God calls them home, you will know in your heart you did everything to help them. And more importantly, they would have known you loved them. Actions speak louder than words to them! You can tell them you love them as much as you want, but showing them in action is a gift.
Purchase all books at http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=alberta+sequeira
Funny how stages come in our lives and we try to bend to the changes. I was on top with posting on my blogs faithfully twice a week, and trying to find time to answer so many comments, but keeping up with repairs and updates to our home since May of 2014, set me back with my normal routine.
Our house has all the final updates and we will try in March of 2015 to up a FOR SALE up again. Getting to check up and write in my blogs was almost impossible running behind the contractors with washing plaster and paint off the walls, woodwork and floors. The dust that traveled from one room to another on the bottom and top floors to my “once cleaned” blinds, windows and curtains, had to be repeated for the third time. I also pitched in to paint two bedrooms, two closets, and a list of other things that I had done during my “younger” years with keeping our home clean and shinny.
I think we are starting to see daylight. By that I mean the articles that we could not find are starting to show up from under the clutter. I can’t wait to smell and feel the Spring in the air so we can open the windows. Now that our home has so many beautiful changes with taking down the popcorn ceilings, wallpaper, new septic system, all new painted walls, and more, I question, “Should we leave?” I have started to question myself. Almost like an addict, “Can I really do these steps to recover?”
Coming to this late stage of our life, makes me realize how changes can be scary….like the ones for addicts. It’s easy to throw out advice until you have changes to make yourself. It’s not easy for anyone in any situation to turn your life around to a new path. There is security in our hearts with keeping the old things and doing them the same way.
But is it really? Is it growth? Is it healthy? Keeping the same friends who do the wrong things as you with getting drunk or over-dosing with drugs, isn’t the way to live longer or stay mentally healthy. The more you use, the faster your brain cells leave and don’t return. You forget things faster and make unhealthy decisions with your life, family, or just living the way God wants us to enjoy things.
Today, after trying to help all of you through the years about making changes, I have to look at my life and Al’s as doing the same. This beautiful 4+ acres of property with a home wrapped with a farmer’s porch, outside shower, privacy in the yard, and all our memories have to be looked at as a wonderful time of our life, but to travel down the new road. We are both heart patients and pushing ourselves with keeping up with land that is too much for us can cause one of us to leave this world sooner than we planned.
I have to face the unknown as I tell you to do. How often have I said, “Thinking about the changes scare you, but once you start going forward, the fear slowly disappears.” So….I am going to do the same. Put the changes in God’s hands and pray He is leading Al and I onto a better and more comfortable life. Our days of keeping up with this huge property and house has passed it’s days with us. We need to go forward, sell, and move into a smaller place that is enough to make our lives easier and time for more fun with socializing and traveling.
Lets make these changes together. Keep me informed how yours are going and I’ll do the same. Moving may not be an exciting topic for you to read about, but everything in life usually falls into the same actions of changes in our life. Who knows, all of us can come out with a new adventure with doing exciting things, making new friends and getting our life back in order with no problems facing us as soon as we open our eyes.
Now Al & I need a good agent and a buyer who can enjoy this home and property with woods for their kids to grow up in running through the land making forts or whatever. Rochester, Massachusetts is a wonderful place for a family.
Alberta’s books are available at http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=alberta+sequeiraAlberta Alberta
I am a little ahead of time with calling 2014 over when we have a few weeks left. I don't want to get busy with Christmas, New Years, and the running around with selling our home, to forget to thank all my followers and readers of my books. Without all of you, my name, writing, and message would not be known. If I touched a few hearts out of the year, God's been good to the both of us.
It's not too late to purchase my books to throw into a Christmas gift as a personal touch. They are all in paperback and Kindle. It will give hours of enjoyment with reading A Spiritual Renewal: A Journey to Medjugorje. Remember this book is also for the men to read about my dad, Brigadier General, Albert L. Gramm, and his military life fighting in WWII in Metz, Lorraine and The Battle of the Bulge. A great book for the Vets. God willing, someone reading my books on Alcohol Abuse, will find hope to keep heading toward sobriety.
If you can't talk to a loved one about their addiction, purchase What is and isn't Working for the Alcoholic and Addict and let the 34 alcoholics and drug users in the book do the work to reach them through their stories on how they recovered. I'm sure one out of the thirty-four will connect to them. The contributors also write what they believe family members should do to help them, so this is a family book for all.
Don't by-pass Someone Stop This Merry-Go-Round and its sequel Please, God, Not Two. They are more on lessons than memoirs. The first book touches on how our enabling only brings the substance abuser deeper into their addiction. Learn what I did wrong and would change today with handling addiction. The sequel has sections with my private talks behind closed doors to the addicted. Learn why we need to keep fighting to save our family member.
Have a healthy and happy Christmas and celebration of New Years with staying sober if you are addicted. For those who are family members and struggling yourself from the stress, take time to relax and show your love by listening to the addicted when they reach out to you and wrap your arms around them. I wish that was possible for me to do with Richie and Lori. Don't take each other for granted. Show the love, not tell it.
I would love the gift for Christmas by having you write a review on my books on Amazon. It means more to me than any of you know.
Thank you for the year of support.
Books are available at http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=alberta+sequeiraAlberta
In a world surrounded with wars, government and schools taking God's name out of documents and speeches, violent crimes, empty churches, respect for marriages fading, babies out of wedlock, abortions, miracles being pushed aside by science, over-whelming death rate from alcohol and drug addiction, families with separations, we have to come to the realization that we are all being tested.
For those who still believe in miracles, daily apparitions since 1981 and up to today with six visionaries in Medjugorje in Bosnia, faith is easy to hold onto with devoted confidence in God.
I wrote A Spiritual Renewal: A Journey to Medjugorje, not only for the believers but more strongly for the unbelievers or for the person who has lost their faith and the path to God and The Blessed Mother. The description of this memoir is told beautifully by a review from Wilson.
If you want a book to refresh your faith in people, family and getting back to prayer and staying tight to the truth of a merciful and loving God, this is your book.
Wilson R. reviewed A Spiritual Renewal
When I first began reading A Spiritual Renewal, I had to stop after the first few chapters and put the book aside. Was there a problem with the writing or the content? No, on the contrary; the writing was so well done, the description so vivid that I was taken back to my mother's passing from cancer a few months previous. Sequeira has a wonderful talent for making the reader feel like they are right there in the scene...it was just too soon for me to be that close to so much sadness.
I returned to the book and found I couldn't stop reading. Sequeira introduces her family, the entire Gramm clan. Chapters focus on the relationship with her father, Brigadier General, Albert Gramm Sr. as she realizes she doesn't know him as well as she would like. He was a quiet man who kept his emotions to himself, making it difficult for her to get close to him. Albert Gramm was the patriarch of the family; he took care of his wife, children, and watched out for the neighborhood as well. He was greatly admired by the men who served with him in WWII with the 26th Yankee Division. He had great faith in God and he believed in miracles.
Watching Mr. Gramm become weaker as cancer destroyed his body was traumatic for the entire family. Alberta remained with her father, talking to him, massaging his muscles and giving him his pain meds for two weeks. Again, I felt like I was right there as Mr. Gramm fought to hold onto life as his grown children struggled to accept the fact that he was dying. Through it all, Mr. Gramm's faith was unshakable and he truly believed a miracle would occur and he would survive. Gramm's religious conviction was a great help to Alberta as she gradually accepted his passing and began to find her way back to prayer and her own neglected faith.
The memory of a family conversation about a village in Bosnia called Medjugorje would not leave Alberta. The obscure village a world away was said to be where six visionaries had daily visits from Our Lady. Alberta collects all the information about the apparitions and the village from local bookstores and dreams of visiting. Traveling to Medjugorje seemed impossible as she had a paralyzing fear of flying, a nagging heart problem, and other health issues. With help from a new friend, Alberta finally gains the courage to plan the trip. The problems would slow her progress but could not stop the fact that she felt that Our Lady had "called" her to Medjugorje.
The visit to Medjugorje can be called a spiritual awakening. Medjugorje is a place where believers need not make apologies for their love of God, for their need to have Jesus in their heart, and for praying. Alberta for so long has left prayer out of her busy life. In Medjugorje there is nothing to distract one from Jesus and His mother's teachings. Alberta meets four of the six visionaries, is present for two apparitions and makes a triumphant hike to the top of Cross Mountain in the middle of a frightening heart fibrillation.
Non-believers might find the book a bit preachy. For believers, especially those who have strayed from their faith, this book could be the key needed to open a door to a journey back to God. In a world that is learning how not to believe, disillusioned by church scandals, distracted by TV, the Internet, and a busy lifestyle, A Spiritual Renewal could be just what is needed to get those from all spiritual viewpoints back on track. Highly Recommended.
Amazon in paperback and Kindle: Purchase: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=alberta+sequeira
Don’t think of Thanksgiving as not being a so-call holiday like Christmas and New Years without any fear of over-drinking. Any event with groups of friends or family gatherings is dangerous to an alcoholic. These events are your big tests. Some addicts make themselves stay away from the temptation to survive the day.
Try going to an AA meeting or spend the day with a group of substance abusers who are also trying to stay sober. Start your own Thanksgiving parties with the ones serious about sobriety and have everyone bring the meal or snacks? Don’t find excuses or believe you can handle being around the drinks being passed out and will have no problem avoiding taking that first one. Why put yourself in that danger?
Find Strength: Spend the morning in church praying for God to help you get through the day. Get upfront without any embarrassment with the people that you can not have one drink and would appreciate them respecting your wish. You don’t want to hear, “Oh, one won’t hurt you!” Demand they don’t offer any to you. If the drinking is too much for you, leave.
There is no reason to spend the day alone. That only adds to the depression and will add to the excuse to get a drink. Remember, you're goal is to head for sobriety and not death behind a wheel from drinking or causing someone else’s. Go to a movie. Go anywhere but near that drink.
Purchase All books at http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=alberta+sequeira
Does sobriety seem too far away? Does it seem like something that is completely out of your reach? That is because you have not chosen from the heart and complete determination to end the nightmare of drinking in your life. You need to look at your patterns on where you go and with whom. You need to educate your minds with which path to start going down and leave your past pain and struggles in the dust.
You need to get back to the person you were before your drinking. Get your confidence back that you “deserve” to get well. Learn to push stubbiness aside and pull in the professionals to help. If you don’t like or feel comfortable with the one trying to help you, find another doctor or counselor. This is your life and mind that needs repair. Don’t waste it on a professional who is not helping you. Also, be honest and ask yourself, “Is he/she not helping me or am I not helping myself? Am a holding back from change? Am I ignoring and fighting what they are asking from me?"
Only you can get honest with yourself. You got yourself in this situation, now you have to get yourself out alone. Don’t blame others and use excuses on their demands and pressure as your reason for not getting sober. No one makes you pick up that drink but yourself.
There is nothing wrong with weakness with this disease. The demons have taken too many addicts from this earth. Now it’s time to crush them.
For those of you who live in the area of Buzzards Bay, Massachusetts, I will be selling and autographing my books Saturday, December 6, 2014 from 10am-4pm. I will be attending the St. Margaret Regional School-Craft Fair at 143 Main Street in Buzzards Bay, MA.
This is a good time to throw a book as an extra personal gift into someone's Christmas present. It will give them days to relax and get absorbed into someone's journey. My memoir A Spiritual Renewal: A Journey to Medjugorje will bring life back into the person who has lost their faith. It's also a book for veterans and any man who will enjoy a story about Brigadier General, Albert L. Gramm during WWII having fought in some of the battles like Lorraine, Metz and The Battle of the Bulge. He was one of the Commanding Officers of the 26th Yankee Division.
Someone Stop this Merry-Go-Round; An Alcoholic Family in Crisis is a story that goes behind closed doors to learn the facts how a family struggles with alcoholism. Read how a gentle, loving husband and father, turned into someone who became abusive from his alcohol addiction. Feel the pain of loss when he dies at forty-five years of age from his young years of drinking. Alberta is frank in this book about enabling.
Please, God, Not Two: This Killer Called Alcoholism is the sequel, although it can stand alone, follows Ms. Sequeira's daughter, Lori Cahill, after her father dies, who battles her own addiction entering the Gosnold Rehabilitation Center twice in Falmouth, Massachusetts and once at Butler Hospital in Providence, Rhode Island. Read the reality of a parent watching the same demon return for her daughter after taking her husband.
These two books are more about lessons with handling addiction more than memoirs. They could have been titled What Not to Do! In the sequel, Alberta's talks in private to patients at halfway home, court-ordered programs and substance abuse rehabilitation are added. Lori passed on November 22, 2006, at thirty-nine years of age. She was put to rest with her father at the St. Patrick Cemetery in Somerset, Massachusetts.
In September of 2103, she self-published What is and isn't Working for the Alcoholic and Addict: In Their Own Words. It is written by 34 alcoholics and drug addicts from all walks of life from the United States and Canada. Ms. Sequeira calls this the conclusion to her other two books about her family fighting addiction. She wanted to hear directly from the substance abusers why some overcome their addictions while others die from the disease and what can family, doctors, counselors and society do to help them. This is a book Alberta would love to see in schools.
These contributors tell their private struggle with how they fought the battle of addiction to come out winning and tells why they believe the recovery programs are not working. This is a good book to present to the family member who does not want to talk about their alcohol or drug habit. Let the contributors do the work. What is more unique than a substance abuser helping another? They also give advice to family members on how they can help them develop the desire to get professional help.
I would love to meet my followers. You are the ones who make authors find joy with our writing, whether through our stories or experiences in life..
For those who can't attend, my books are available at Amazon in paperback and Kindle.
Hope to see you there.
My Husband, Al, and I went to a Veteran’s dinner this week, and I heard a poem that actually brought me to tears. It may be long, but I have to share this. Read it slowly and take in the words.
I Am a Veteran
by Andrea C. Brett
You may not know me the first time we meet
I’m just another you see on the street
But I am the reason you walk and breathe free
I am the reason for your liberty
I am a Veteran
I work in the local factory all day
I own the restaurant just down the way
I sell you insurance, I start your IV
I’ve got the best-looking grandkids you’ll ever see
I’m your grocer, your banker
Your child’s schoolteacher
I’m your plumber, your barber
Your family’s preacher
But there’s a part of me you don’t know very well
Just listen a moment, I’ve a story to tell
I am a Veteran
I joined the service while still in my teens
I traded my prom dress for camouflage greens
I’m the first in my family to do something like this
I followed my father, like he followed his
Defying my fears and hiding my doubt
I married my sweetheart before I shipped out
I missed Christmas, then Easter, the birth of my son
But I knew I was doing what had to be done
I served on the battlefront, I served on the base
I bound up the wounded, and begged for God’s grace
I gave orders to fire, I followed commands
I marched into conflict in far distant lands
In the jungle, the desert, on mountains and shores
In bunkers, in tents, on dank earthen floors
While I fought on the ground, in the air, on the sea
My family and friends were home praying for me
For the land of the free and the home of the brave
I faced my demons in foxholes and caves
Then one dreaded day, without drummer or fife
I lost an arm, my buddy lost his life
I came home and moved on, but forever was changed
The perils of war in my memory remained
I don’t really say much, I don’t feel like I can
But I left home a child, and came home a man
There are thousands like me, thousands more who are gone
But their legacy lives as time marches on
White crosses in rows, and names carved in queue
Remind us of what these brave souls had to do
I’m part of a fellowship, a strong mighty band
Of each man and each woman who has served this great land
And when Old Glory waves, I stand proud, I stand tall
I helped keep her flying over you, over all
I am a Veteran
Thank you, Dad, for your years during WWII. Fighting in battles like Lorraine, Metz and the Battle of the Bulge. Being one of the commanding officers for the 26th Yankee Division and making multiple choices over and over, not being able to save all your men.
I took those years you fought and pushed them aside, not asking you how you survived when you were alive. As the years past, and we hear of the horrible wars off shore that take our family members, I realize how important it is to remember.
by Alberta Sequeira
Read about Alberta Sequeira's father, Brigadier General, Albert L. Gramm, in A Spiritual Renewal in Amazon. Key in her name and her books will come up.