Finding Home…..Introduction/Dedication/Acknowledgment/Glossary of Terms

**Authors note; I have decided to join these pages together Which seem more appropiate when giving the book in this way. I have also decided not to give the “Table of Contents” as it seems irrelevant for this format. The book will be shared in the correct order however.

Except where otherwise noted all content herein is the intellectual property of Gabriel Chudleigh.

Introduction

If home is in the heart then finding home for me has been remembering my birth parents. They are my home, for I live in their hearts and they will always live in mine. It has never been about a physical place, as I first thought it would be when I began this quest. This is something that truly surprised me.

I am reminded of the song lyric, “What’s the use of distant travel if you’re homeless in your heart?”* Who am I? Where was I born? Who are my real parents? Why did they leave me?

These burning questions I have asked myself many times. Not having the answers has been the cause of much uncertainty about my place in life. I know I was taken first from my birth and then my surrogate family when I was two years of age, then brought to Canada and raised by a family viewing me solely as an investment, suffering their insensitive handling as they benefitted from my traumatic dislocation.

Not knowing who you are or where you are from can leave an emptiness in your soul which is difficult to explain unless you’ve had a similar experience. Whether you remember your birth family or not, recollection lurks just beyond your grasp, always there to haunt, never strong enough to confirm. Memories are linked to sounds, smells, gestures and images and many attempts were made to destroy mine, but they did not permanently disappear. They were only pushed behind a door to a safe place in my mind, often coming forward just enough to encourage taking another step towards a better life. Trapped within a mystery is not a comfortable way to grow up. I couldn’t recommend it!

Upon arriving in Canada they changed my name, creating a new identity and in this strange land spoke a different language, ate different food, and held different beliefs, all foreign to me. Honesty, integrity, honour and courage were the qualities they lacked. I did not belong and was not made to feel welcome with no real way to protect myself or fight back.

Selfish acts of violence, power, greed and control buried in endless layers of lies, deceit and corruption fractured my spirit. It is for the memory of love, peace, honour and morality I fought to reclaim these scattered shards.

I feel this book is essentially three stories inseparably entwined; my past, which was lost to me for the majority of my life; the story of animals which became a major part of my healing, showing me the homeward path; and lastly, the story of my immediate family and the losses we suffered because of the road I travelled to reclaim my memories. For reasons I still do not fully comprehend my first three children have walked away. Although we no longer maintain contact I can forgive them for what feels like abandonment because I know how much we went through as a family: the loss, humiliation in various forms, and the constant worry of not having enough.

Their estranged father used his elevated financial position to enhance the contrast of our more modest life. Through employing this strategy they perceived life with him would be less difficult, less stressful, and more rewarding. Would Josh, Colby and Rheann have made the choice to fracture our family had they known they were intentionally fed lies meant to mislead?

I hold the belief they were ashamed of me, the only conclusion I could accept for the loss of their presence in my life, because none of us at that time knew the truth of my past. How could we understand then what I had been through, and why would they want to know? Although I do not like it—without interference or judgment—this understanding allows me to accept their decision.

Their half-brother, Lucas, did not benefit from this aspect of their life. Excluded on certain levels eventually he too was pushed away from their new world, never invited to participate. The continual slaps in the face he endured created a rift, in the end, too wide to cross. This was a very difficult reality for myself and Patrick to accept.

It has taken great strength and courage for me to face the truth of my story. I would not wish it on anyone to have a normal life under constant threat as ours was at that time. What none of my children understood was the level of abuse I endured during my younger years, being raped, and tortured mentally and physically. Everything that was beautiful was destroyed, exchanged with jealousy, anger, hate and fear. The shock of those acts against myself and those I loved from my true home forced me to go within to survive, becoming but a shadow of my former self. In their attempt to maintain control I was unfortunate to witness the intentional destruction of my three year old daughters spirit, a ripple of my own abuse. Those in charge of my altered life hoped the memories of my true family and the love I shared with them were locked away forever. They were wrong.

I am Gabriel and I remember.

My ability to appreciate beauty in the smallest form has been the living thread I wove into rope to pull me from that dungeon. Animals of Inspiration was the key factor to unlocking the visual portrayal of my journey. The drawings are a representation of my inner self, and these were of vital importance. Together with the writing of Finding Home I retrieve the shattered pieces of spirit.

…It started as a game, looking for wild animals along the way whenever we were traveling by car. My set of Medicine Cards, similar to Tarot, helped us connect to the spirit of animals. When we’d see a deer or coyote or owl along the way I would look up the message for that animal, and from this perspective learn why it came into our world that day.

I brought along the book so we could read while the experience was fresh in our minds. I noticed we all become much more interested in the wildlife around us; more curious about their behaviour and seeing them as manifestations of spirit. This was the beginning of a connection I have carefully nurtured for many years allowing me to see purpose in all things. I believe this also helped me channel them while I was drawing. They became real to me, not just ink on a piece of two dimensional paper.

Is it possible to look into another beings eyes and see something of ourselves? Can we then accept another’s place in our world even if we don’t understand? ….I wonder.

Perhaps through their eyes, we shall finally see.

*footnote: by singer/composer, Basia

Dedication

This book is dedicated to those who understand what it is to lose all that is dear to them and continue on with their journey. It is your courage and strength that will also inspire those around you. It is through our acts of kindness and love that we lift others up and carry them, until they are strong enough to continue on their own.

Acknowledgement

To my three oldest children I give thanks for your being a vital part of my journey. We have all been through many trials and difficulties along the way. And as we learned together many decisions were made from fear rather than what could have been courage and loving confidence. One-by-one as you walked away I gradually lost my purpose and belief in self.

No one can go back and repair the damage from choices made; we can only move forward and choose to do our best to correct our faults and become a better person, to be better people. It has often been a lonely path I walk yet I hold the good memories in my heart and always hope I will once more hear your laughter and and feel your presence nearby. It is the strength of your beauty and wonderful individuality which reminds me how lucky I have been to know you. My door will open wide at your long awaited return.

My greatest companion and spirit gift who is loyal to a fault, Miss Mali, gave me back my purpose. She is the reason I have faced each day. Her gentle and joyful nature reminds me there is always a reason to smile!

For Lucas, who has walked a difficult path, perhaps not always seeing the meaning behind the cause, I am grateful for the gift of your life being part of mine. We are linked in ways which cannot be broken and we will find our way as we are meant to do. You often pushed me to work outside of my comfort zone, but to a good end. I treasure your presence in my life.

I am blessed.

Glossary of Terms

Duncan and Helen Phypers – my adoptive parents

Ellen – my adoptive sister

Terry – my adoptive sister

Neil – my adoptive brother

Bruce – my adoptive brother

Ian – my adoptive brother (youngest in the family)

Surrogate parents – the couple in whose care I was entrusted by my birth parents and to whom I was brought as a baby, living with them for the first two years of my life.

Birth parents – my parents were not married, both being married to another, both political and from different countries. They were on opposite sides of the political fence, with my presence an issue of significance.

Surrogate grandparents – the couple I consider my grandparents, even though we were not related by blood. The woman brought me to this couple who became my surrogate parents (mentioned above).

Darrell – My first husband, father of my 3 oldest children

Joshua – My oldest son

Colby – my second son

Rheann – my daughter

Patrick – my second husband

Lucas – my youngest son, Patrick’s only child