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Chain4Life






































Thank you God for our marriage.” …We are chained together, chained for life.


My life story: Chain4life


Author: Carmela Pennazza






My story unfolding piece by piece:


INTRODUCTION



What inspired me to write this book? Maybe there are several reasons, but I put it mainly down to anger, stressful situations or maybe even revenge. Maybe emotion has to play a large role. For years I have wanted to put this experience on pen and paper, however, I find it difficult to reveal so much in my writings, but there is a truly valid reason for it, which you will find throughout, but mainly in the final chapter. My writings and feelings are absolutely real and are my own.


This book is dedicated to my mother who has always been there for me in times of depression and despair. Without you mom, I would not have been able to be positive about life. We shed many tears together all for a good cause, which is always Love. Thanks mom for being the mom that our Lord intended you to be; a teacher, loving, forgiving, giving, unselfish, generous and humble. You taught me a very valuable lesson in life by not showing or taking sides.” May your soul rest in peace”.


My childhood was a great experience. I laughed, I was free spirited, I was happy, I cried when I was sad, but mostly I was always happy and full of mischief, “at times”. You might ask, “What happened then?”

Well, I got married.




CHAPTER 1



I met my husband, Marlon, at a social club in our town in 1982. We usually have lunch at the club on a Sunday, after church. What I didn’t know was that a meeting was to take place between me and this “guy” whose parents and family, wanted so desperately to introduce us to each other. Well, you call it, a blind date. Aha and blind, was I not. He was chubby (fat) and short and scruffy looking. Maybe he did have a little bit of money, but I was not in search of wealth, but for a life partner, a loving life partner. Good looks could be a bonus, but not even looks, could change my mind that day. I immediately told my mother that I was not interested. Not a word was uttered to change my mind, as though they knew what my answer would be.


The man that was to be my husband, Marlon, came to introduce himself to me, moments after the rejection of the (fat) guy with plenty money. He too was invited by a friend to the club. He was facing the sun, looking at me, and had one eye slightly closed. I asked him if he had a problem with the eye, and immediately mentioned the sun being too strong sun and affecting his eyes. At that time, I believed everything he said to me. Of course, I was brought up in a house trusting the people around you. Naïve, you can call it, if you like.


Marlon was in the clouds and could not believe that such a young and pretty girl would be interested in him.

The following week, Marlon introduced me to his family. My first impression of them was that they were the same nationality as me, and they seemed good hearted and that, to me, was enough to know, that this man would become my husband. The next day I went shopping for our life together. Not together in the sense of us moving in together, no. That was not my intention at all. Neither was it his, in any way.



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