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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1339680
My true story about my guardian angel. I used be skeptical.Nowadays I see differently.
True Life Story
Touched By An Angel
By: De’Bee J. Kuzanek





A few years ago if someone told me that I was touched by an angel or had a guardian angel watching over me. I would have unbelievingly laughed in their face. I am not a skeptic; but throughout my life; I have endured more anguishing pain then any normal person could handle.

I was brought into this world with a rare stomach disorder; none of the physicians or specialist knew what was wrong with me. I’d violently go into convulsions, blackout or choke and was given a life expectancy of five and without explanation I survived.

Age five; I was diagnosis with an overactive thyroid condition, three times worse then the typical case. This condition was like a bizarre roller coaster ride, which went on for ten hard years.

In that time frame my father continuously sexually abused me. My mother favored my older sister and the mental neglect I received from her was noxious. My mother lives with her eyes wide shut to reality, which caused my cries for help to go on without answer; I kept on running away from home, hoping to get someone’s attention so they would take a hard look at me. No one batted an eyelash.  I chemically found my own, short-term solution to cope with my miserable, dysfunctional family. My father made me take the rap for his wrong doings and lies. My naïve mother believed his fabrications and they agreed to throw me out at the age of fifteen.

My parents hand written a consent letter, giving me away to a thirty-six year old truck driver; who they called a friend and allowed him to take me to California to rear. He put me through drug rehabilitation and treated me as if I was his own child, respecting me enough to not touch me until I was legal age.

Completely sober, at the age of nineteen; I got pregnant and was placed in an apartment in Texas to have my baby. The years I lived with him were intolerable. During my 5th month of pregnancy, he placed a loaded gun in my mouth. Luckily for me the gun wasn’t loaded. After that I woke up, realizing how much older he was, refusing to raise my baby around crazies. His mother loathed and denied me in ever aspect. He had three children; one was a year younger then I. Eventually, I found my buried pride and left.

The abuse didn’t stop. It was incessant and nerve-racking. I met a man closer in age; we started dating during my last trimester. Things progressively moved along; baby and I moved in with him. He seemed to be a loving person. A year later we got married. I found out the hard way, he was a substance user. Our 5th year of marriage started to go down hill. I was now expecting my 2nd child.

My husband turned into a possessive and womanizing person not allowing me to do anything except stay home to be a nanny and personal housekeeper. When I was in the hospital having our child, nurses tried contacting him. He was nowhere to be found. He was to busy out partying with his friends. When he got to the hospital, four hours later; his first son was born. My husband did more drugs. He said, was to “deal with our continuous past due bills, children and us”.

Another three years went by; my days became a routine and found myself again pregnant. I wasn’t worried except for my relationship with my husband, whom I have grown to despise because of his daily verbal and physical abuse towards the kids and me.
I always put myself in harms way to protect my children, that is my job.

From the downward slop, my eleven-year marriage quickly turned into a direct plummet over the edge. I swallowed as much as I was going to; at this point it was beyond swallowing. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. My husband got laid off. He decided to stay home and continued being his self-righteous self, and use drugs more heavily, which kept him from getting another job.

My options were limited. I was forced to seek employment. There was no income coming in at all. I found an excellent job, paying three times the amount my husband had brought home and now the table has turned. He was at home playing housekeeper and nanny while I brought home the bread and butter. I figured this would help my marriage if he could just taste a fragment of what I had to endure on a daily basis between three small boys, house and yard chores, and what have you, then he’d see the complete mosaic.

But, that is what I get for thinking. I ended up paying for our rent, daycare, food, his drugs, and everything else we needed. We acted like roommates, not as husband and wife. He was so angry and jealous with me. I had a successful job, making lots of money and having fun doing it. We began screaming and literally fist fighting amongst each other as soon as we got up until we went to bed. I started working overtime, every single passing day I worked. I was putting in 80-hour workweeks, driving 1-hour and five minutes each way to and from work and to picked up and dropped off some employees for six months solid and found myself waking up in my office this one particular morning.

I had evaluated my whole life in my head the entire day. My body had only a few hours of sleep in those six months. My body and mind was overly stress and beyond exhausted.
I looked at my watch it was 2 A.M. I wanted to go home to see my babies and sleep. My plan was to wake up in the morning make breakfast, talk to husband rationally and be a family for once.

I grabbed my coat and keys, jumped in my car and started to drive home. My eyes felt like lead weights. I struggled to keep them open. I shut off the heater, cranked up the radio and rolled the windows down for some cold air. I kept hearing a peaceful voice in my head, “I’m here. You can do this. You’re almost there.” The cold air began making me yawn now I was really fighting to stay awake. It was almost 3 A.M.
I exited off the highway and cautiously drove through the residential streets. I stopped at the stop sign, turned on my directional and made my turn. I was on the back road behind my house. Around the corner, off in the distance I could see the spotlight in my backyard. I steered the car slightly to the left to go around a pick-up truck parked at the curb then I straighten the car out.

The next thing I remember, someone softly touching me, and that same voice in a concerned tone “Come on. Wake up. Get out. Hurry!” I slowly opened my eyes and I saw nothing but a solid white blanket and smelt smoke. Dazed; I looked around and realized what had happened.

I fell asleep behind the wheel and collided into a tree. The white blanket was my air bags. I quickly grabbed my purse and cell phone on the floorboard and tried to get out but my foot was stuck, I managed to pull my boot off then climbed out, looking behind me, noticing that pick-up truck I consciously went around. I must have fallen asleep directly after I straighten the steering wheel out.
I staggered across the street and sat down. I wasn’t in any pain; I looked at the light in my backyard and called for my husband to tell him what happened. The neighbor had already called the fire department and ambulance; I could hear them off in the distance.
I lit a cigarette and saw my husband running up the street as the emergency workers arrived.
I just sat still, smoking my cigarette, gazing at the blacktop between my legs not looking at anything.

There were people scrambling around. There were sounds like a chainsaw or something in the background. My mind was totally blank. For some reason; I was concentrating on the ground. I hadn’t even seen the condition of my car, until I heard a man shout out. “Where is the driver of this vehicle?” Still looking at the ground; I raised my arm and shouted, “I’m over here!”
The fire fighter approached me and dumbfoundly questioned, “How did you get out of the car?” I slowly looked up at him, and then passed him over to my car and I began to hysterically cry. “I opened the car door and climbed out.”

My car was completely totaled. The emergency workers had to open the car with the Jaws of Life. The hood went through the windshield and just barely missed the top of the driver’s seat. Half of the front end was on the ground, and the other half was wrapped around the tree as smoke poured out in every direction. The engine was inside the car on the driver’s floorboard; where my boot was found trapped between the twisted brake and gas pedals. The steering wheel was bent forward and the impact from the wreck had pressed the front seats rearward against the back seats.

The firefighter commented before calling over a paramedic, “There is absolutely no way, you could have opened that car door and stepped out by yourself. You must have someone in higher places looking down on you. Pardon for me saying this Mam but; you should have been left for dead.”

I was placed on a gurney and rushed to the emergency room. That was the first time, in a long time that my body was horizontal because as soon as I laid down, I passed out cold.
I walked away with a hairline fracture to my right ankle, bruised lungs from the airbags, the steering wheel sprained my forearm muscles, deep seatbelt lacerations to my neck and chest and sustained heavy impact bruising to my right leg. The doctor said I should be thankful. My sleeping and being relaxed is what saved my life.
I was released from the hospital that same evening. My husband had carried me to our car because the excruciating pain finally took its toll and I couldn’t walk.

When we got home; I had slept for several hours. When I woke everything was quiet. My husband wasn’t home. He went to a friend’s house. He had his mother watch over the children and me while he was gone. I stood up and tolerated the pain, using nearby furniture as crutches to see where everyone was. I made my way into the kitchen and looked immediately out the window amazed with joyous tears in my eyes.

For the first time, I actually heard and witnessed what the birds were singing about. The grass was vivid and more greener. The sky was a vibrant blue and the sun shined more luminously then I have ever seen it in my entire life. It was like I was looking through God’s eyes the way he intended for me to see it. The air smelt so sweet and pure; I took a deep breath and finally felt at ease with life and myself. I found my lost faith and moved out. I divorced my husband a few years later.

Six years later, I remarried. My new husband is the most loving, caring and beautiful man that has ever lived. He loves and lives for the needs of my children and me. We love living our new lives tranquil, happily and healthy and everyday just gets better and better. My new husband was truly heaven sent. I now believe that an angel touched me and I have one watching over me.




© Copyright 2007 DeBeeKuzanek (debeekuzanek at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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