Dani's Story: A Journey From Neglect to Love Read Online Free
Author: Diane Lierow, Bernie Lierow, Kay West
behaviors. Bernie’s boys were older than mine, so I was afraid they might influence my boys to be age-inappropriate.
But eventually Bernie won me over. He quit smoking to seal the deal, and we were married on March 31, 1997, at the Baptist church Bernie attended in Franklin. It was very simple: the four boys and just a few friends. The church was feeding the homeless that night, so we ate our wedding dinner with them. That felt right to us. We didn’t have the money for a honeymoon, so we just went home after our dinner with the homeless. At least, we had a home.
I think I got pregnant that very night. We definitely didn’t plan it—we had quite enough on our plates, and we didn’t feel a driving need to have a child together. Bernie was under the impression from the fertility doctor he and his second wife had seen that his siring days were over. At least, that’s what he told me. Surprise! But we embraced the news as God’s plan and celebrated William’s arrival the week before Christmas.
Blending the families was a bit of a challenge, and we probably should have done a little more prep work on that. The boys had gotten along fine before we were married, but when my sons and I moved into Bernie’s tiny three-bedroom house, things got tense. Steven and Paul were used to sharing, but Shawn and Ryan had previously had their own rooms. Shawn was sixteen years old and had always taken on a lot of responsibility for running their house. In hindsight it’s understandable that he might get upset at a relatively strange woman coming into his house and taking his job, on top of being forced to share his father and his bedroom. There was definitely some tension. When we moved to a larger house, Shawn had the whole basement to himself, and we just tried to stay out of each other’s way. Thankfully, the misunderstandings between us lessened when Shawn went to live with his mother, who had settled in Atlanta.
Then we moved again, to a huge old house that had been converted into rental units. It had six apartments, six bathrooms, and six kitchens. Restricted to the no-budget plan, we did everything ourselves to turn it back into a single family home. It took us almost four years of backbreaking work on nights and weekends before we finished that house. It consumed every waking moment, and it was a showcase when it was done.
But we wanted warmer weather. Paul kept getting bronchitis every winter, so we thought a change in climate might help. We had driven through Florida a year earlier on vacation, down one coast and up another. We liked the west coast of the state better—the Gulf water was warmer, shallower, and calmer than the ocean, which we thought was better for Willie. He was only three, and the Atlantic was very rough. We found the kind of small-town community we liked in Fort Myers Beach, so in October 2002 we put our Tennessee home on the market, packed everything up, and moved to Florida, the Sunshine State.
Chapter 2
Seeking
The easygoing lifestyle in Fort Myers Beach suited us well. We walked, biked, swam in our pool or a neighbor’s pool, went to the beach, and played in the park. We had a small, partly pebbled yard, so there wasn’t much upkeep involved, and the house—compared to other rehab projects we had taken on—was finished. We grilled outdoors a lot and loved to eat on our second-floor deck that overlooked a canal where we could watch the manatees play. Anytime we could be outside, that’s where you would find us.
Willie was in a good school, Steven was close to graduating and had a part-time job that he loved because it was on the beach, Bernie had steady work, and I was a happy housewife. Yet my desire for another child kept tugging at me.
Some little things came up that moved the process along for Bernie. We were attending a Baptist church on the beach in Florida and got a new pastor. He and his wife had four kids of their own and wanted to adopt a
But eventually Bernie won me over. He quit smoking to seal the deal, and we were married on March 31, 1997, at the Baptist church Bernie attended in Franklin. It was very simple: the four boys and just a few friends. The church was feeding the homeless that night, so we ate our wedding dinner with them. That felt right to us. We didn’t have the money for a honeymoon, so we just went home after our dinner with the homeless. At least, we had a home.
I think I got pregnant that very night. We definitely didn’t plan it—we had quite enough on our plates, and we didn’t feel a driving need to have a child together. Bernie was under the impression from the fertility doctor he and his second wife had seen that his siring days were over. At least, that’s what he told me. Surprise! But we embraced the news as God’s plan and celebrated William’s arrival the week before Christmas.
Blending the families was a bit of a challenge, and we probably should have done a little more prep work on that. The boys had gotten along fine before we were married, but when my sons and I moved into Bernie’s tiny three-bedroom house, things got tense. Steven and Paul were used to sharing, but Shawn and Ryan had previously had their own rooms. Shawn was sixteen years old and had always taken on a lot of responsibility for running their house. In hindsight it’s understandable that he might get upset at a relatively strange woman coming into his house and taking his job, on top of being forced to share his father and his bedroom. There was definitely some tension. When we moved to a larger house, Shawn had the whole basement to himself, and we just tried to stay out of each other’s way. Thankfully, the misunderstandings between us lessened when Shawn went to live with his mother, who had settled in Atlanta.
Then we moved again, to a huge old house that had been converted into rental units. It had six apartments, six bathrooms, and six kitchens. Restricted to the no-budget plan, we did everything ourselves to turn it back into a single family home. It took us almost four years of backbreaking work on nights and weekends before we finished that house. It consumed every waking moment, and it was a showcase when it was done.
But we wanted warmer weather. Paul kept getting bronchitis every winter, so we thought a change in climate might help. We had driven through Florida a year earlier on vacation, down one coast and up another. We liked the west coast of the state better—the Gulf water was warmer, shallower, and calmer than the ocean, which we thought was better for Willie. He was only three, and the Atlantic was very rough. We found the kind of small-town community we liked in Fort Myers Beach, so in October 2002 we put our Tennessee home on the market, packed everything up, and moved to Florida, the Sunshine State.
Chapter 2
Seeking
The easygoing lifestyle in Fort Myers Beach suited us well. We walked, biked, swam in our pool or a neighbor’s pool, went to the beach, and played in the park. We had a small, partly pebbled yard, so there wasn’t much upkeep involved, and the house—compared to other rehab projects we had taken on—was finished. We grilled outdoors a lot and loved to eat on our second-floor deck that overlooked a canal where we could watch the manatees play. Anytime we could be outside, that’s where you would find us.
Willie was in a good school, Steven was close to graduating and had a part-time job that he loved because it was on the beach, Bernie had steady work, and I was a happy housewife. Yet my desire for another child kept tugging at me.
Some little things came up that moved the process along for Bernie. We were attending a Baptist church on the beach in Florida and got a new pastor. He and his wife had four kids of their own and wanted to adopt a
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