CHAPTER 1

You Can Pick Your Friends,but Not Your Family

My life is wonderful today. I live one day at a time. I wake upevery morning and thank God for giving me the sunrise. Before Igo to bed, I thank Him for the sunset. I get up daily free of painand free of trying to please others. I have a relationship with Godand a loving relationship with my family. Every day, I pray for Godto give me the strength to carry out my mission of educating thepublic about organ donation.

My story does not begin so simply. Let me walk you throughmy journey. I was born in 1952 in Mexico. By 1955, at the age ofthree, my parents, two sisters, and I immigrated to the UnitedStates and made our home in Azusa, California. When I was five,I had a stroke caused by an aneurysm, which affected my left side.As children do, I adapted and adjusted.

Even though my father had a limited education, he was froma white-collar family of lawyers, doctors, and bankers. My mothercame from a background of poverty. She was very insecure aboutherself and raised me in that fashion. She projected her owninsecurities onto me. Everything was about her. Because of thisexperience, I no longer listen to negative people.

My parents were very hardworking people. In fact, theywere always working and didn't always show their love for us.Reflecting on those days, I think that it was that they didn't knowhow to express their feelings. Sometimes, I felt like I receivedmore love from my babysitter.

I remember receiving love and affection from my babysitterduring the week. I was spoon-fed by my nanny, Sessy, who wasa sixty-five-year-old lady and was like a grandma to me. On theweekends, though, our family spent time together. During thistime, we would go to the park and when I was younger our familytravelled abroad, by all appearances, we were a regular family. Inpublic, I was my mom's little princess. I had the best clothes, wetraveled, and everything appeared perfect. But it was all fake.

I know my parents made mistakes, just like I made mistakesraising my kids. At times, my mom was very abusive, but I havemade peace with that and forgiven her. When you hold on toresentments the only person you hurt is yourself!

In spite of it all, I think I lived a pretty normal childhood, eventhrough my teenage years. My life was pretty normal, whatevernormal is. When you come from a dysfunctional family, normal isjust what your life is. I grew up early, having to translate Spanishto English by the time I was ten. Your experience is your onlyreference. I grew up this way. This is the reason I am so lovingwith my grandkids and family, showing love now rather than later.I believe that when you are in the right place at the right time,lessons are there to be learned. I would never change anythingthat happened because it all made me the person I am today. Thispoem is how I felt at times and how I got through it:

    i need to breathe

    i need to breathe
    to keep from killing my Spirit
    i need to breathe
    to keep my Faith, my Sanity, my Consciousness
    i need to breathe
    i need to breathe the Word
    to keep peace with G-D
    i need to breathe
    to cleanse the heart of the Universe
    i need to breathe
    so what's stopping You?
    just Breathe

    —Denise L. Cook

I went to Azusa High School and had a lot of friends. I neverliked school. To me, high school was a place where I could put mybooks down and take off with friends for the day. At the time, itwas easy for me to blame my mom for my not liking school. It'seasy when you grow up in an abusive home not to accept someresponsibility and to blame others, but that's not the way lifereally is. In reality, you have to accept responsibility for youractions. As a teenager, I was at the stage where I rebelled againstthe world as it was.

I went from one party to another, from one place to another.My mother never found out what I was doing—or so I thought. Tome, it was challenge, like a joke. I don't know if she knew, but if shedid know, she didn't really know what was going on. I graduated in1971.

CHAPTER 2

My Knight in Shining Armor

    Don't Leave Go of My Hands

    Don't leave go of my hands, Lord
    For you are my guiding light
    Don't leave go of my hands, Lord
    For you guide me both day and night
    Don't leave go of my hands, Lord
    For I dare not be alone
    Don't leave go of my hands, Lord
    Please stay in my Heart, your Home

    —A prayer from the Oracle

I met my husband-to-be, Richard, in June 1975. I was twenty-twoat the time, and I was on cloud nine. I had finally met someonewho would truly respect me. I would be loved as I had never beenloved before, and he would be kind.

Six months later, on December 20, 1975, we got married. Wemarried very young, and I thought he was my prince. My knightin shining armor was going to swoop me on to his white horse.We would ride off into the sunset, away from the problems I washaving at home. In my imagination, he was going to be the onewho was going to save me. I was so relieved to get on his whitehorse! I was the princess who believed in fairy tales! However, thatwasn't the way it was. Reality hit me within a few months, and theroller coaster started from that point on. I met my husband withthe hopes that he was going to save me from drowning, but myhusband came with his own set of...