Come back to the light. That was the heart of the prayer that I wrote about my mom's new husband. See, long story short, my dad left my mom. After that, my sisters helped mother find an old high school boyfriend, Bill William Cunningham. They went on to marry I think in 2008. It was a good marriage. Spoiler alert, I think in 2011, Bill ended up dying. Bill was sick and was probably given the wrong medicine by nurses. But I wrote this prayer around 11:00 AM PST, Wednesday, the 30th of September of 2009. I wrote this in a note on Facebook. This article post has a lot of random details. I'm posting this to archive the details. I can't verify how accurate the details and the grammar is and are in this note. I can verify that I was trying to help. I talk about how Bill was not always making the best of decisions. He let drug addicts live in his house. My mom was born in 1951. Mom's dad didn't like Bill back in the 1960's. So, they went their separate ways but reunited in the 2000's. Mom's dad ended up approving her choice to marry Bill. But long story short, Bill pretended to be like a woman (Kathy) in the past. But the good news is that mom persuaded him away from identifying as female. So, before he died, he started doing things better. That is the good news. It appears that Bill was turning more to Christ, I think.
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2020-02-13 - Thursday - 08:14 PM - The Bill Cunningham's Prayer | 08:25 PM - Published
2009-09-30 - Wednesday - 11:08 AM - Bill Cunningham Prayer Note on Facebook
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Contact Me | Published in February of 2020
September 30, 2009 at 11:08 AM - 2009-09-30 - Wednesday - Wed
By Joey Arnold. About Joey Arnold's mother: Marilyn Cunningham (Morehead).
11am: Wed: 9/30/2009.
Bill Cunningham (Marilyn's husband sine November, 2008).
Who clearly admits not that he cannot live without her (my mother, born Marilyn Kathleen Morehead, who later married Ron Hunter, then married [who later became my dad] Donald Melvin Arnold [who was born a Rasp in Los Angeles, CA, before adoption], and who is now married to Bill), but that he cannot live without them (Bill, who is an individual care-provider contracted directly with around a dozen in a three-bedroom and garage house in Shelton, WA U.S.A., since the end of the '90's: in which they are spending around twice as much to fix that place up, these last several year than the place is even was or can be worth). He is afraid of kicking them out, even through illegal drugs are used there, they are not paying there bills (barely, or most of the time, these last several years), even through they have plenty for their cigarettes. Ten thousand dollars in debt (not counting the debt that he threw at my mother, meaning the debt that is now unfortunately in her name, too) has not lessen his sentimental or in-secured perspective, his cling towards them, towards helping them no matter what, in worshiping them, giving them things, buying them expensive things, things they don't need, like anew washer or fridge, drugs, fixing the house beyond what is necessary, driving them places, loaning them out money with no nothing whatever for them paying him back at all, no contract or promises on those things, and the list goes on.
Part of this births from his distortion towards Jesus, meaning that he gets mad at life, wishing that God would leave him alone, getting mad at the past, at problems, blaming my mom, mainly, now, as did my dad, as we always need a scapegoat in those issues, and in his wish for a better life, in making sense in a bad world, since he fought in the Korean war as a sniper, as relatives of his has died in his life, as so many things happened, as he blames it on God, as his body falls apart to Parkinson, as he does not want to give up his horrible junk-food, pop and such dieting, I mean eating, or over eating, or under eating, depending on the day, in taking too many prescriptions, in not doing things naturally in health, in eating, things that my mom encourages him to do, things that are better, God's way, or no way, it has to be Yahweh, Jesus, you know, or no way, or the highway, hit the road jack, don't you come back no more, because can you eat your cake and have it at the same time. Speaking fo that, my potato is soaking in the microwaved, so it is time to eat, I nuked it because I was impatient, undisciplined, but then the question is, is he also nuked (I mean we all are to an extent, but think about this, now, please, for me) . He does not want to argue with people, he wants to do everything for his clients (people living in house, and the friends they invite over without his consent), and one of them is his ex-wife, Debbie, who he is still emotionally attached to. She tears down my mudda, each day, but Bill even bought a new washer for her, and the list goes on. The people in the house are constant liars, criminals, stealers, living off the government, and the list goes on. They do not want to deal with my mother's honesty. Bill does not want to take responsibility, but my mother is pledging to step back a little and let him see. Bill has been bankrupt around three times already in his life. I do not mean just broke, I mean officially bankrupt. He looks at her credit cards and says or feels that you must spend it. That is even what my father has and will still even still say, right now, too (something I or we are all still tempted to say or think or believe or do or feel).
Earlier in 2009, they moved out into an apartment, then into a bigger one. But this only makes things more complicated. Bill finds it impossible to live without internet or cable or or the ex-wife, he feels he has to be taking care of his thieves who do get arrested, using meth, stealing people's credit cards, including theirs at times. He won't raise up a finger against his ex-wife, or them, but will to my mom. He even cries to my mom, but she is choosing to see past that, not letting Bill manipulate her like they do to them or like how my dad would to her for thirty years, in a controlling way. Bill is enslaved to his former wife similar to how Mudda was tricked or trapped in the spell or ciurcumstances or fear or world or troubles or insecurity or the debt or the crying or the weeping or the whinning or the guilt trips or the verbal abuse or the physical or mental or spiritual or financial abuse or twisted arts of Father. I am so much like Dad, too, moreover, meaning that I must flee, and am fleeing, from being that, doing that, controlling, yelling, trying to rule, to top over people, with eagles, I mean ego my lego, I mean, eggo, or whatever inside of me. I do also have a hard working attitude of Dad, in basketball, in landscaping, in making decisions, in being strong, clever, manipulative, in being a people's person, a lady's man, in having supernatural insight ir intution on people, and I also have wisdom and another kind of intuition or type of reading of people or insight all from Mudda, too. Now, Bill i stuck in the spell of his ex-wife, but Mudda was like that too with Father, and she tries to comfort and encourage and challenge him to wards Jesus, each day, because she knows how it is, how it is like, especially emotionally to be stuck with people, or with the ex-wife, to worship the past, and Mudda prays and encourages and dares him out of these many things.
As a couple, Bill cannot handle anything from my mother, no thoughts, no so called criticism, no insights on life, nothing that can attack any possible clause to his mistakes, to his insecurities, to his demonic ties to his ex-wife, to his enabling spirit for Satan, for letting them do evil, to enable evil, stating that he cannot kick them out, but he cannot take care of his own wife, my mudda, and he does not want to read the Bible, he does not want to follow that, he wants to listen to liars, he wants to hide his head in the sand, he does not want to hear the truth, he nags out at a Methodist church where people are just nice, not honest, but just tolerant of whatever, of apathy, and he just wants to feel good, he just wants to enjoy life, for tomorrow we die, but do not even think about the after-life, do not talk about life. Bill barely has an hour or less, each week, if that, to spend with my mother, to just like watch a movie together, or eat a meal together, at that apartment, not counting actually talking to each other, since anything she says or does is not good to his emotions, he thinks, and Bill always at the house or driving around, or limping off his Parkinson disease, driving his van all over, doing everything for his clients, and just eating at the house, as they are over-spending, over-eating, feeding themselves, feeding neighbors, getting mad if my mudda pays bills on time or even at all. Bill got mad that she had to borrow money, again, to pay around $1,500 of expenses, just last month, most which was suppose to come from his clients, but he won't kick them out because he feels sorry for them. He even told her that he was going to do his part, pay his half, but that was clearly a lie, or something he just did not have, obviously, and after going out of her way to pay for that since bills has to be paid, he gets mad, since he was going to pay for it, even through he can't, but he is just in love with the talk of doing something, or the talk of actually paying a bill even if you don't have the money for it, not to be confused with the actual walk of paying the bills or the actual walk of doing those things that must be done. He is afraid of saying no, especially to these addicts that are so attached to him, and he to them. December of 2007, when my sisters cyberly reunited her with Bill, who was a high school friend (1968, where they, & Jim, were also baptized), but who was denied approval (for being together) from her dad (my grand father, Richard [Dick] Erwin Morehead: 1927-2008) until uncle Jimmy William's funeral, August, 2008, but when my mom ran back into him, my dad quickly smirked to Bill, seeing past the mask, saying what my mom did not want to believe at the time, "So, you're going to church with Marilyn," just like he did just to get married with my mom in March of 1980, and as my mudda moved out of the trailer in Forest Grove, OR, there were only around five others at that house in Shelton, WA, but one thing led to another. The problems are constant. They are many. I talk to my mom each day for hours about them. Almost every day since 2004, when I started college in New York. But my mom is in over her head, over forty thousand dollars in debt, but still in a low below-average job. She was unfairly fired from a care-giving job to a young thirty year old wheel-chair man who just wanted to do everything himself, living at his parent's, who obviously needed my mom, but who just fired her even through she was clearly going beyond the call of duty. My mom is constantly having their backs, the people at the house, and Bill's, even when they constantly complain and yell back that she is not good, does not know better, that she is only out to destroy, to kill, to steal, like Satan, but my mom has saved them out of many legal or financial or business or real estate or official or complicated battles or problems or conflicts or scams they they were so closed to falling for, since they are all in debt and all in need of all sorts of help, and especially since they are all in need of each other. Mom has even threaten, saying that they should not give up the apartment and move back into the house, since the house is always noisy all night, full of smoke, only three bed-rooms with a dozen of people, literally, meaning that she will have to run off to my brother Rick's place, and his family, in Tulsa, OK, which just made Bill so mad, but he just does not want to face reality. He does not want to grow up. He wants to just do what pleases him. That is why he tricked my mom into marrying him, for his pleasure, even when he is emotionally still married to his ex-wife. He at least hates his first wife, the one before that one.
This entry is not complete.
As the son to my mudda, of course, I am deeply concern, and I am always looking for solutions, looking for prayer, so, if you are reading this, please pray, and if you have any ideas or suggestions, comment back, or email me, or contact me, or contact my mom, or one of my siblings, or just pray, or do something. But I am looking for prayer support. That has to be the first on the list. I also am looking for financial or other such advice for her or for them. The other question has to be whether they should stay married. But what is the alternative. This will be an ongoing debate. THat is why you must pray. It is not as simple as you may think. There is more to be said that makes all of this harder to deal with. I would also like to get my mom a house. I want to find organizations or churches or missions or anybody or businesses that can use her wisdom, her resources. She is very keen, she homeschooled her four kids, counting me, and she is a health naturalist doctor in so many ways, and a secretary in skills, and a historian on many levels, and a dead-on counselor for people, and an excellent children teacher on so many subjects. My mom is gifted in so many things, but there is so much in the way of that, and people cannot she what she has to offer to this world. So many setbacks. People can pray, which is good, but you have to do more than just that. You have to go beyond that. She is a writer, she is not much of a drawing artist, she likes oatmeal, she favors life, joy, Jesus, hope, making things better, and she is even a pianist, and a song-writer, and a singer, and she understands the world in a deep spiritual way that relates to your every way.
My inspiration to write this entry about the person she is married, my inspiration comes from a desire to make this situation better, and I just want to offer her to the world, I want to free her from these issues, which is mainly in Bill, since she has pledge her life to her, since that is what marriage is, and God hates divorce (but it may be necessary), even as Bill has not been pledging or supporting or caring or giving priority back to my mom and instead has shift his love or attention or hopes or past-life-ness, his attachment, his hate on God, his view, his energy, his life, his very being, his resources, his money, his time, his very soul, his mind, his brain, his wallet, his reasoning, his gut, I mean, my mom is taking marriage very serious, giving all of her to him (within reason, still, or as God requires or to an extent, or whatever is right or best or better), she is giving him her all, really, saving them all, which grace, love, even when they don't deserve it, similar to what prophet Hosea did for his prostitute wife Gomer, centuries ago back in the Middle East, she is doing that even when he is not, even when he is giving all of that she gives him back to, however, not to her, but to them, stuck in the past, stuck on things he can understand. He has guns and so much in his drawers and all over. He was once in the military, he was a sniper and has killed many people. He does not like hearing the truth. He will rather kill you then listen. He has ended an argument by killing a man before. That is how arguments are won in his book. He is very illed in the head, then, but that makes sense. But what do you do?
But what do you do?
That is going to be the question. All of this is ongoing. I am here to write my mom's story before it is too late. I do not want to say that she will die. You never know when life will end for any of us, but you must do your best to care for each other, in making things better, in L4OJ, living for only Jesus instead of merely looking for outrageous joy or in GYJO (getting your joy on), you really have to be holding forth the WOL (Word of Life), and doing the most good like The Salvation Army. I have more to say about all of this.
The prayer requests are to continue, stay posted!
