In September 1982, Aleida said four things to me, three of which were predictions.
‘You will go into healing’
‘Do you know green is really red?’
‘You will write a book one day’
‘Your legs will be all right.’
The last after trying to hide her shocked expression.
In January 1983, a month before her 63rd birthday, Aleida died. Now, twenty years later, I look back and realise what this great lady saw then, how my life was to unfold.
This book is all about my journey to healing.
From the moment her mother-in-law predicted she would suffer problems with her legs, Marjolyn explored different methods to prepare herself for an unknown physical challenge and healing.
Born in the East Indies, now known as Indonesia, Marjolyn worked as a teacher and raised four children in Australia. Despite the demands of being a working mum she also made time to learn many healing modalities.
She was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS) in 1994. Over the next decade, it became increasingly difficult to manage. It became so bad that she wished she could die until…
Marjolyn realised, as time went on, that the predictions her mother-in-law had made a decade earlier were starting to come to fruition. The last one being: ‘Your legs will be all right.’
Marjolyn Wayenberg, nee Terlaak, was born in the East Indies, now known as Indonesia.
Being from Dutch background, Marjolyn learned to speak English at the age of twelve and later became a teacher.
While teaching and having four children, she went on to learn many healing modalities on a part-time basis.
Marjolyn started writing when she decided she wanted to share her healing knowledge with others. Having been diagnosed with MS in the early 1990s, Marjolyn has employed many techniques to ease the loss of feeling in her body.
I don't wish MS on my worst enemy; even if I had a worst
enemy. Actually, over our 20-year relationship, my worst enemy has been myself
all along and I'm not about to give MS to myself one more time. In truth, as
counter-intuitive as this may sound, it was recently refreshing to hear that my
MS has sort of reached its end game. I heard this in the hospital no less. I
won't get any worse because I'm 1% of the folks that have reached a sort of
I wasn't upset to hear this. I was actually thrilled
because never again will I lose sleep over what the disease had in store next;
will my limp get worse, will I one day need a walker or, God forbid, a
wheelchair? It's all here now; a path of physical and oft times' mental
destruction. I have a white flag, but it's never been raised.
You see, I'm not defined by MS. I'm not defined by what's
next. I'm not defined by its progress. I'm defined, or would like to be defined
by breaking down barriers and setting an example for friends and family alike;
especially for my boys.
I used to agonize, summarize and theorize that I wasn't
worthy. Other dads coached sports. I sat aside. Other dads played catch. I sat
aside. Other dads would twirl their children in their arms, suspend them in the
air and run around in the yard. I sat and stared.
Then it hit me: my boys often call without a reason to
tell me they love me. Griffin likes to lie on the couch and play a game he made
up called, "Five Kisses." It used to be called "Three
Kisses", but he wanted more. Instead of self-pity, I try as best I can to
live with self-worth. It has had a domino effect on my soul. As the last tile
lands forward, the words on it read, "Not today, MS. Not today."
Blame games were a symptom of the past. Spirituality has played a major role in
turning grief into accepting I have
everything else left to live for, smiles to share and love to let grow; this
was and is my new awakening. Like many
ill or infirmed, the seasons change but hearts and minds may be frozen.
In my heart. In my soul. In dark evenings of emptiness
inside sunny days where I closed the blinds, the miracle of spirituality found,
the quiet of my soul and memories of what I hope to never endure again.
Ultimately, like rivers and streams, all things run into one and passes through
illness from times long since passed.
Each room, every bed and endless ticking of the room's
clock began from the basement of time. A
fly on the wall could tell countless stories of pain and suffering, of waiting
and wondering, of tears and sorrow. Of a belief of a better tomorrow. Those before me leave fingerprints revealing
it was their time and place. Some of
those fingerprints come to life under every room's bright hospital lights.
Beneath the lights are the echoes of their words. I am haunted by hospitals.
Maylin grows up dreaming of a love that will consume her. What she finds is much more than that.
Throughout the course of her life, Maylin meets three very special men, all of whom love her.
There’s the highschool sweetheart, the sexy married work colleague, and the long-lost childhood next-door neighbour.
But when all is revealed, who will Maylin find true love with?
Read about the passionate love that waited more than two decades to be expressed fully.