Article Summary

Here is a sample version of Kathie’s book The Truth Bubbles Up. Published November 11, 2022 this is the introduction and chapter one. You can buy Kathie’s book here!

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Disclaimer

This book is a memoir. It reflects the author’s present recollections of experiences over time. Some names and characteristics have been changed, some events have been compressed, and some dialogue has been recreated. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Introduction

“The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” -Joseph Campbell

During the pandemic and race situation of 2020, I was listening to a podcast where the guest mentioned we were all paying for the debts of our ancestors. I gave much thought to this. To me this is true. I believe we all have demons and debts to fight that are not of our choosing. But how you fight those demons is of utmost importance and will be the reason we survive and thrive or suffer, become defeated, and give up.

This book started out as a letter to my son Kevin. We have an estranged relationship today. It hurts me because I could not send that letter to him because he would either cuss me out or shut me further out of his life or both. My son is a product of his raising and his DNA. Obviously, he got some of my DNA. How he was raised is the part that I was not given due to the mental health of his father.

Part of that letter will be included in this book. Will he read it? I don’t know. I hope he knows one thing though, that I love him unconditionally no matter what. You see, it isn’t his fault that he was raised like that, just like it is not his fault that he got that DNA that holds good and bad. One day though he will see that battling those demons will be the answer to finding that peace that will set him free. That is where the truth bubbles up.

It is not my intention to talk badly about my son’s father and his stepmom but that will definitely take place in this book. The things my ex did to me will leave scars that last a lifetime, or if you believe as I do, several lifetimes.

I have demons to fight, and so do you. That is what this book is about. You will meet someone in this book who saved my life. Her name is Shary Davis. She was my therapist for many years. The things she taught me will be revealed in this book. Things like responsibility, boundaries, trusting the process, and even letting go. The things she taught me are the very things I teach others today. They truly saved my life. And they could save yours.

The inspiration for this book came from a discussion with a very dear friend of mine. Almaz has known me for almost 40 years now. She knew me before everything happened and knows me today. She read this book as I wrote it. At one point she told me, “Kathie this was hard to read.” “Oh no!” I said, “I want it to be a great read, a book you can’t put down.” She said “Oh it is Kathie. It really is! It was just hard to read because I know you. I hate what happened to you.”

It took me several days to start writing again after that. I spent time in contemplation and what came to me were all the things that Shary taught me and probably the most important lesson of all. That lesson is this we are not victims of what happens to us. We can be victors, it just takes a shift in perspective. It takes a choice.

Often times we fear those demons we have to face. Demons of loss, greed, anger, jealousy, pride, revenge, abandonment, guilt, and fear itself. But when you face those demons with responsibility, set clear boundaries, trust the process, and let go with faith everything shifts. As Joseph Campbell says “The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” And so the truth bubbles up.

Chapter 1. Tornados It’s Always Tornadoes

“When childhood stars shine always stay humble and kind.” -Tim McGraw, Humble and Kind

An ominous tornado is coming my way. I see it in the distance. Kevin and Koby are young children and I am headed to the cellar for safety. Objects are flying everywhere. I am able to grab Koby, he’s my youngest. I grab Kevin by the hand but the wind is too strong. The tornado strips Kevin from me. I am forced to make a decision. Save Koby and close the cellar door or go try to find Kevin and risk losing everything including my life. I choose to save Koby.

The tornado subsides quickly and we open the cellar door to find the sun shining on all the broken glass that is everywhere. It is eerily quiet and oddly beautiful. I step outside avoiding the broken pieces of glass with every step praying deeply that I find Kevin alive.

All of a sudden Kevin jumps out from behind a blown-over tree. He is perfectly fine. He even tells me, “I’m fine mom. Why were you even worried?”

I dream about tornadoes often. They have come to be warning dreams for me. Tornadoes are menacing characters. They destroy everything in their paths. However, there can be things very close by that go untouched. My tornado dreams symbolize change for me. Most often it is a good change. But that doesn’t mean the change will be fun! And just like with any tornado - some things change forever.

In the movie Titanic, there is a part where the poor families are left down below, with the forbidding knowing that the ship is going to sink. A mother rocks her young child and sings a song. I can’t remember if she says this or not but it does happen in movies, “I will not ever let you die.” When we all know they are going to die! How can that mother remain so calm? All the while she knows she is going to perish along with her children.

While I do not know about the actual death part, I do know about the death of a dream for my children only too well.

Where it began

My first date with Kendall was in the spring of 1989. I was only 24 at the time. Yes, I am as old as the Super Bowl. Kendall was set to pick me up at 7:00 sharp and he was on time. He picked me up in his beautiful 1988 cherry red corvette. He called me from his car phone, an unheard-of luxury in that day and time, and said, “Your chariot awaits.”

We went to Houston’s Restaurant which was just a few blocks away from my apartment in Montrose. I had butterflies as anyone would on their first date with a handsome guy. We had a corner table in the romantically lit restaurant. I could not keep my eyes off of him, he was immaculately dressed in his white button-down Ralph Lauren shirt, starched Wranglers, and his very expensive Ostrich cowboy boots.

As dinner ended the waitress brought us the check and walked away. Normal, right? But what happened next was not normal, at least not in my world. Kendall pulled out his wallet and then pulled out his dollar bills. He started counting hundreds of dollars right before my eyes.

I gazed out the window at the street below us. Kirby Drive was a street that I traveled on thousands of times as a child. I had grown up going to church every single Sunday a few miles away. Rice University was also a few miles away. I thought of the day my family drove by the stadium after church when the Super Bowl was held there in 1974 just to see the festivities. Across the street was the car dealership where my father bought his Plymouth Duster in 1970. And down the street was Kays Sports Bar, a favorite, local college hangout of mine during the mid-80s.

My mind came back to the table and the dollars. “Why was he doing this?” I thought. Did he think this impressed me?

I can’t remember how that date ended but I can tell you it was the beginning.

I loved Kendall’s charm. He exuded it. When he walked into a room people wanted to hang out with him. At my work Christmas parties, he was always the one talking to the bosses. He was fun and exuded power. When I knew him and dated him, he was even humble, and sometimes he was kind.

He’d go to work dressed like the other guys and even worked with his hands putting on trailer hitches. If someone came in looking for the owner of the company Kendall would tell them, “I’ll have him call you tomorrow.”

One thing was for sure Kendall was fun. But he had family struggles that I would come to know all too well.

In Texas, the 4th of July is always hot. But this 4th of July was hotter than usual. I was going to meet my boyfriend’s parents. I was super excited. I dressed up in a cute 4th of July outfit and fixed my hair up nicely despite the Texas heat and humidity that I knew would ruin it. Kendall’s parents lived in California at the time and they were coming home for the holiday weekend.

Kendall had planned a wonderful 4th of July party. He had just installed a brand new patio on the back of his LaPorte home. The deck was ready for the party too. My new boyfriend's entire family was there for the festivities. The party had been going on for a little while when all of a sudden Kendall’s sister and his mother got into an argument directly in front of me.

And this was not just any argument but a heated all-out cussing match. My eyes got big, I simply could not believe what was happening. Kendall’s sister called her own mother all kinds of ugly names and was cussing like a sailor. Suddenly Kendall’s mother stormed out of the house shaking, screaming in panic, and in tears.

And his parents left without saying goodbye or nice to meet you. Boom it was over.

And do you know what the argument was about? Where Christmas would be that year. It was only July! The party continued as if nothing had happened. I had this odd sense that this type of thing happens often.

However, (I say loudly), if I ever, even for one second thought about talking to my mother like that my face would no longer be attached to my body. My mom is 4’9” and 90 pounds soaking wet and if you ever disrespect her like that you’d think twice before doing it ever again.

I mean, my brothers had nicknamed her the Tasmanian devil for a reason. Do you know the little cartoon character that whirls around like a tornado when he is mad? Honestly, I am grateful I was raised like that.

But was that true respect? Earned respect comes from being in a position of stern kindness, the kind of sternness that instills the 2-way street of respect. That 2-way street was often 1-way. I was taught to never talk back to my mother because if I did there would be consequences to pay. Tasmanian devil consequences. So I remained quiet. Especially when confrontation was involved. Some values are forced upon you - out of fear.

Then there was my father. My father was a college math professor. And not just any college math professor but a graduate math professor. My father had a Ph.D. in math. To even get a Ph.D. in math you must prove a theory no one else has proven. As a professor of graduate math, my dad graded that stuff!!

During my college years at the University of Houston, I met people from NASA because my best friend Sammi worked there. I met rocket scientists and astronauts. These brilliant people told me that they knew my dad and took classes from him. They told me stories about what a great professor he was. I beam with pride at that thought.

I mean, as a little girl, I knew my dad was brilliant and that he could be very wealthy. Therefore, I asked him why he didn’t make a lot of money with his knowledge. After all, he was teaching others how to make millions why didn’t he do the same?

Do you know what he told me? He said, “Yes Kathie, you are correct. I could have made millions. But I love teaching. I love what I do. That matters more than anything. More than money.”And my core values like that run deep.

Love, kindness, and the true value of life run deep into my DNA. I come from a very long line of love. In today’s world, this is rare. I used to think I was weird because I did not value money as an end-all-be-all. But I find, this rarity makes me special, not weird.

As a 12-year-old awkward kid, I used to walk two miles to school. I lived one block off of Braeswood which is a busy street that headed to my Junior High School. I had this little black dog that would meet me every morning and walk about four blocks with me. I loved this little dog.

You see, I was walking to school in a privileged white middle-class community. All my friends had someone to drive them to school. I actually got bullied because I walked. And everyone saw me, it was on the busy street.

But this little black fury dog brightened my walk. He would greet me with a smile and a wag of his tail every morning without fail. I don’t know where he came from but he was always there.

One morning gloomy spring morning everything changed. He met me in our usual spot. We walked a few steps and then for some reason he ran out into the busy street. A van hit him. The little dog yelped in pain and ran back toward me. I instinctively reached out to try and help him.

And then he tried to bite me and snarled at me, much to my astonishment. I did not have enough life experience to know that when a dog is hurt, no matter how much he loves you, he will bite you. I looked up and the van was gone. I stood there and did not know what to do. The little dog lay down. I could not help him. I walked with tears streaming down my face to school.

I immediately went to the office. We didn’t have cell phones in 1977, ya know. “I would call my mom.” I thought, “she’d know what to do.” I told her what happened but I do not think she understood me. My Nano was in town that day. She did not visit often and they had a big day planned.

That afternoon my mom and Nano picked me up from school. As we drove home I strained to see if that dog was there. I think I saw a little black body by the fire hydrant where he would meet me but I am not totally sure.

I like to think he went home and got fixed by his family. I also like to think he was so traumatized that he decided not to ever walk by Braeswood again because I never saw him again.

I learned that day somehow that I would be responsible for the consequences that happened in my life. I am quite sure it was a limiting belief. But that belief has served me on many occasions.

Someone could blame my mom for not being there for me to help me save that little dog. But I really think my mom did not understand what happened. We never talked about that traumatic incident - nor any traumatic incident for that matter.

Trauma was not in our dictionary at home. My parents have a deep love for each other. I can honestly say I never saw my parents fight. Not once. Because I never saw my parents fight, I had zero life skills when it comes to fighting. When I say zero, I mean zero!

I was left to my own consequences.

Football season was in full gear in Texas that fall of 1989. Friday night lights are a real thing here in Texas. Kendall invited me to watch his then 10-year-old son’s football game.

I did not know much about Rick at the time. From what I heard Rick’s mom got pregnant just after she graduated high school. Kendall did not really own up to Rick being his own. Rick’s mom later told me that Kendall begged her to marry him and she reluctantly conceded. On the day Rick was born she had to call to search for Kendall. Instead of being at the hospital for the birth of his son, Kendall was out with some girl. That marriage would not last long. But there was no denying the father of this child. He looked exactly like Kendall.

The relationship Kendall had with Rick’s mom was the most healthy family relationship he had. Which, of course, is not saying much and is all attributed to Rick’s mother. The two had a very close relationship. This was probably out of the protection of the dysfunction that went on in Kendall’s world more than anything. But I was still blind to all of that, for the most part.

After that football game, Kendall and I visited with Rick and told him what a great game we thought he played. Kendall asked Rick if he would like to come to spend the night with us that night. And the answer Rick gave was simple. He said, “Let me go ask my parents.”

Kendall’s response, however, stuck with me for a lifetime. As soon as Rick walked away Kendall began to cry. And while that was the first time I saw Kendall cry it would only be one of the very few. He moped and griped about this answer for days.

It was an honest mistake. But Kendall took it to heart. And he took it as an insult to, well. his position as the father. An insult to his “label.” Little did I know that Kendall would turn that “label” game into a huge ordeal in my own life. One that would scar me forever!