The Attack of The Demon Hobbit (final)

My daughter’s continued fear was the impetus that sent me off to pray. My prayers went something like this:

‘Divine Mother ‘(I had decided feminine energy was warranted)

‘I want The Hobbit to die. I know that’s not going to happen soon so I ask for help in dealing with this situation in a way that will bring healing and relief for myself and my child.’

(I’m very honest when I pray).

It wasn’t long before I began to understand what I had been missing. I was still angry and that meant that I was still afraid. Despite my ‘courageous’ behaviour my daughter was still picking up on and experiencing my fear. I knew it was time to release my anger and the only way to do that was to forgive him! The thought of it made me sick to my stomach!

There and then I had to decide whether my anger was more important than my child.

The answer was obvious. I didn’t know how I was going to do it but I had to try. I began by treating him like a human again. Instead of just staring I began to say good morning. In the beginning he still scurried away, but eventually he began to return my greeting. Slowly and quite often through gritted teeth I adapted my behaviour and so did he.

Children often take things at face value and this time was no different. After a while The Diva began to relax when we bumped into him. Eventually when we saw him she would chat away quite happily. Ultimately of course The Hobbit began to believe that his behaviour was now considered acceptable and began to take advantage. He would offer lifts and ask if he could give chocolate to Hannah and basically try to pick up where he left off in terms of friendship. I would always say no thank you and when he asked why as he always did I would simply reply: ‘You know why’ and leave it at that.

All through this process The Diva and I would discuss what was happening. We talked about fear and anger. We talked about people who do bad things. I explained that I was being friendly not because what he had done was OK, but rather because I didn’t want to be angry anymore. When he offered to give us something and I saw she was confused I would gently remind her that he wasn’t our friend because he had done a bad thing and he had broken our trust.

It was a long and often painful process but one which ultimately paid off. She knew that he could no longer be our friend and she understood why, but most importantly – she was no longer afraid – and I was no longer angry.

About 2 months ago The Hobbit eventually died.

He went for an operation and after being released he contracted septicaemia (spelling?). He was rushed back to hospital where his organs collapsed and he went into a semi-coma. His toes in the one foot became gangrenous, and spread up his leg. They amputated it without his consent or knowledge. He woke up a few days later to discover his leg missing. Despite the fact that he was recovering well he died a day or two later.

I had cause to ponder the intricacies of The Universe…………………………


4 responses to “The Attack of The Demon Hobbit (final)”

  1. I went to the pub one day dressed as a priest to wind up the bigots and a guys ercedes got a flat tyre outside the pub.l went out to help and when he saw me he said,just what l need ,divine intervention.hehe.


  2. It’s a strange phenomenom but pebople who have gave me serious grief in the past seem to come to sticky ends. maybe someone up there is doling out judgement on our behalf beth.l think it may be granny gallacher still looking after her brood of which you have became would have loved her and she you.


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