On a recent family vacation (that included my step Mother, my Father, sister and husband and my Grandparents), my hand was forced to confront, once again, with a past that I felt I had dealt with. But this time it wasn't for my sake, it was for my children's.
To give a Cliff note's version of my past, it included lots of verbal and mental abuse with a touch of physical abuse that was not frequent, but when it happened, it was violently terrifying. Most of it occurred at the hands of my Father and some of it by my step Mother. I loved my Father, but my heart for him was lost long ago. His temper and bully-like tactics had me more scared than anything else. What's strange, is that my desire to please the man never seemed to leave. (By the way, what is the deal with this? It's like it's an urge so primal there's no satiating it. I have to chalk this up to a misguided and misplaced urge that is really intended for my Lord and Saviour.) My step Mother, well....although she was in my life since the age of six, she never had my heart and so it seemed that anything she did or said didn't have much of an impact on me....it was just part of the deal. What made things so confusing for me, is that in the midst of the wrongness of what was going on, my Dad would throw in some unexpected kindness, generosity and maybe a little token affection leading me to think that things were not, and had not been, so bad. This remained confusing until I sought counseling AND I had children. These two things cleared up a lot for me.
For the last couple of years, my Father and step-Mother (SM) were pressing me to let my eldest three come visit them in AZ. My Dad also really wanted to take my 11 yr. old son on a week long train trip. I kept putting them off due to my own lack of courage in telling them the real reasons of why I wouldn't even trust them with my vacuum cleaner. I used the excuse that I was just an overprotective parent to which I was told that I just needed to "get over it".
You know, there are a lot of people who love dangerous animals and love to be with them. However, the wise ones, realize the inherent risks of being on their territory. This was me with my Father. I love my Father and have always hoped for some type of working relationship with him. I didn't mind being in the shark cage. I was ok with the risks of being hurt.......but my children. Having them ask me to let them visit them was like asking me to put my clueless children in the water with the sharks without a cage. Although I want to be close to my Father, I could not use my children as chum.
Finally, on a recent trip to AZ alone, my Dad confronted me and wanted to know why I was so hesitant in letting my son Sam travel with him. With my heart in my throat, I told him the truth and said that I was concerned about his temper and that I was afraid that it would affect Sam. My Dad got real quiet and seemed on the verge of crying. We talked further and I felt, that for the first time, my Dad and I had had a meeting of the minds and, though it was not said, he would try harder in the future, not to blow up at my children. I am ashamed to say that I allowed this to happen on occasion when we would get together for our family beach vacations. It is obvious that my Dad's shelf life of tolerance for my children is short...so I just couldn't understand or fathom his desire to want them for longer periods of time. It just was not going to happen.
So now I will fast forward four months to our most recent family beach vacation. Things were going fine.... well , just ok. My eldest came to me and said that his Grandpa, my Dad, had told him, after some impromptu verbal math game (I saw it as a disguised "test"), that "your Mom is not homeschooling you well enough." Upon hearing this, I was angry. I don't go on these family vacations to have my children tested and critiqued. If my Dad had a problem with the way I was educating my children, he needed to have the cajones to come and tell me himself as opposed to telling my child. This was unacceptable. I asked my Dad to talk with me outside on the porch and I asked him about the comment. He denied it and said he just called him a "homeschooler" after Sam not having been able to understand the rules of his "math game".
Then, before anything else could be discussed, he said he had a bone to pick with me as well. The expression on his face flew me back to childhood at mach speed...this was going to be more than a conversation...he was going to blow. I felt like that animal that could sense when a storm was coming when there seems to be no evidence. I felt my emotions crawl underground for cover and a switch turn off. I am a 40 yr. old woman and I still felt my stomach turn to knots and the strong urge to empty my bowels. He went on to say that he was insulted and offended that I did not trust him, unsupervised, with my children. I corrected him and told him that he was more than welcome to take them on errands and little day trips but that multi-day visits would not be allowed until I knew he could control his temper around them. So far, he has not been able to do this. He looked me square in the eye and told me he had not wanted to come on this beach vacation at all and that my SM had to "beg" him to come. Then with venom, he told me he wanted to end our relationship. I then told him I understood his hurt and that I would be hurt too to have a child admit they didn't implicitly trust me with their children. Then, knowing, but not intending, that my next words would seal my fate I said, "Yes Dad, I don't blame you for feeling hurt but you know what? Your feelings don't trump my children's safety. And until I know that you will not blow up at my children anymore, I don't feel comfortable letting them be around you for long periods of time."
I had just pulled the pin out of the grenade.
He stood up and was going to storm off inside the house, but before he did, he turned to me and self righteously stated that he had never hurt me or any of my children and he didn't understand why I felt the way I did. What?! Was he on crack?! Now, this was a scenario I hadn't even prepared for in all my mental playouts of how this might come down. I expected more that he might say I was overreacting or blowing things out of proportion. It was beyond me how he could forget or deny stuffing pieces of hot dog down my throat in anger at the tender age of four, how he cold cocked me for getting a bad grade and sent me flying off a bar stool hitting my head on the ground.....and even how my SM had to physically put her body in between my Dad and my body so that he could not attack me....again out of raging anger. I could not let his statement go and with a raised voice I said, "You don't remember punching me? You don't remember leaping at me in anger to hurt me?" At this he raised his hands and sarcastically said "I guess I'm just an awful man.!" and stormed back into the house. I was stunned. I sat there staring at the ocean and then went downstairs to my room where my husband, Steve, was. I cried. My emotions had come back out for air and my switch was on. Steve was confused as it is rare that I cry. What had just happened? I explained what had transpired and asked what were we to do now? Were we to stay and stick the rest of the vacation out or were we to pack up and leave? Steve suggested we stay...but I still felt like a flight risk. I wasn't sure how this was all going to play out. As a compromise, Steve suggested we take just our children and go out to lunch and for a drive to let things settle.
We returned and Steve took the children who were not napping out to play in the waves. I decided I would finish up some laundry when I heard my Father call me out to the porch to talk.
Round two.
And again, I went into safety mode and needing to poop. I know, way too much info. but I think it's kind of funny. I have so digressed. So...when I am outside, my Dad tells me that my accusations of abuse are not true in anyway shape or form. I firmly say that I am telling the truth. He then wants to know when and how it all happened and as I start to recount an incident he loses it and starts to yell inches from my face that I am a "big fat liar" and that I am just concocting this story to punish him. For what? He storms inside again into the family room ranting and raving that I am crazy and I am a liar. This all happens in front of my Grandparents (my SM's parents), my SM and, unbeknownst to me, my eldest daughter. I come into the family room ready to take him on...I feel emotionless and calm but ready for the showdown. At this point, I must inform you that my Dad is a criminal defense attorney and starts to "cross examine" me by yelling questions at me. He wanted to know why I waited 25 yrs. to bring up the abuse and why I didn't tell other members of the family. He wanted to know why, if he was such a horrible man, why I didn't protect my younger half sister. He found it convenient that all my accounts of abuse occurred while others were not around. (Isn't that how abuse usually occurs..out of every one's sight?) He then asks my SM whether she remembers any abuse and she emphatically says no. I am helpless. I try to make her remember the time she had to throw herself on me to prevent my Dad from throwing punches at me. She still denies it and tells me I am being absurd and that I just need to "let it go". Holy crap, I can't believe this. She can't remember either? Have I gone completely mad? My Dad then goes over to my 90 yr.old Grandmother and demands that he tell her if I ever told her about any abuse and she denies it as well. I used to go to her house everyday after school. I do remember trying to tell her, pleading to her for help, about the situation at home, but she couldn't hear it and tried to get me to see my fault in the conflict. I love her dearly and desperately, she's loved me out of so much pain, but I gave up trying to get help from her.....she wanted peace in the family too much to really hear me.
Oh dear Jesus, help me. I knew I was telling the truth but all I could do was hang my head and repeat that I was not lying. I was stripped of any defense, sarcastic comebacks, tears or proof. I have nothing and realize I can not change any body's mind. My Dad is still out of control yelling that I am a "big fat liar" and that he was happy that our relationship was ending so that I couldn't accuse him falsely of other things. Mockingly and sarcastically he asks me when I plan to accuse him of sexual abuse since I was enjoying playing the victim so much. He then asks me for a list of people that I have told because he wants to write an article to circulate telling them I'm a "big fat liar". Can you guess yet what the word of the day is yet? 10 pts. and a trip to Disneyland if you guessed "big fat liar".
Here's the really weird part. My Dad pretty much says he can't remember hurting me but he can remember hurting and beating my older brother. So his logic was that since he can't remember anything with me, I must be lying since he can remember the abuse of my brother. Then my Dad's sarcasm goes into gear again and he demands to know if my SM ever abused me since I seem to be pulling out tales of abuse like rabbits out my butt. I tell him that I do remember her kicking me once but other than that, I can't recall too much. So then, my SM pipes up and says "Oh you have it all wrong, I hit you a lot especially in the face! So you can remember your Father's abuse but not mine?" insinuating I couldn't be telling the truth since I am unable to remember all that she did to me.
Ok, so let's get this straight.
The main reason for me for even being in this conflict was to protect my children by not letting them stay long periods of time with my Dad. They don't believe my accounts of abuse at my Father's hands but they have just admitted to abusing a child. Can this get any more weird? Are they actually trying to convince me they are safe people with their twisted logic????
It was at about this point that I realized something. I didn't care whether they believed me or not...I mean, what was my main goal anyway in this whole nightmarish conflict? It was to keep my children safe..and I was in the process of ensuring this. Sure I was frustrated as Hell that no one believed me, but in the end, it really didn't matter. This wasn't about me. All that mattered was that my children were safe and that the Lord knew I was telling the truth.
Mission accomplished.
And when I realized this, I held my head up and said in a voice that sounded like I had a great idea and probably had lost my mind at the same time, "You know what? I am.... ok with this, I think I am really ok with things ending like this. I don't think there is anything else that needs to be discussed." And I walked away downstairs to pack my family up and wait for Steve to come back with the kids. I have to admit that the adrenalin that had been running through me had left my pregnant body weak and shaky but I felt free in a way I never had before. This was an event that needed to happen and I had been dreading this for years as well as feeling shame that I didn't have the courage to do it earlier. Every time my Father would lose his patience with the children, my shame as a parent would grow as I stood by doing nothing. Now I knew this would never happen again and I felt empowered. With the Lord's healing and his strength I was able to protect my children the way that I always knew I needed to.
As I collected some of our things in the kitchen, my Grandmother was there trying to get me to stay by saying she thought that I was handling this all in the wrong way and that we could all work this out. Ahh.....the ultimate peacemaker. I am sure her heart was breaking. I gently put my hand on her and said "That's too bad. But this needs to happen."
As I was putting the last child in the van, I saw my husband conversing with my Grandmother only to learn later that she was asking him why I was so intent on tearing the family apart by bringing up the past and taking all the grandchildren away. And how could I leave my Father like this after all that he had done for me like paying for my education? Yes, I am the troublemaker. Then my SM says to me that she's only seen my Father cry three times since she has known him and today was one of those times. I am sure that the intent of this information was for me to feel so bad that I'd run in and say sorry for all the horrible lies I told. Nope. No deal. I'm stick'n to my story. Again, my Father's feelings will never trump my children's safety.
So we left....and I cried all the way home. I cried most of the next morning. What had I lost? I felt betrayed and alone. Would I ever see these people again? How do I handle any attempt on their part at a reconciliation should they try? Do I even want a reconciliation? But one look at my children is all it takes to realize the loss isn't as big as the gain......my children's security and the knowledge that the Lord has given me the strength to be truly free.
My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God my Savior
Has ransomed me
And like a flood
His mercy rains
Unending Love
Amazing Grace
Words an lyrics by Chris Tomlin of Amazing Grace
I've been set free
My God my Savior
Has ransomed me
And like a flood
His mercy rains
Unending Love
Amazing Grace
Words an lyrics by Chris Tomlin of Amazing Grace
1 comment:
Nice post... well, I too love my father & we together enjoy each other's company on our camping trips.
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