Shame. The cover up.
Tie a bow on emotions and experience. Tidy and neat. It’s too much- too many- too painful to glance again. Memory that repeats. Rage flies up the stairs with our daughter, hoisting her into a cold bath of worthlessness. "Shut up!" "You’re too much." "You color outside the lines." "I can’t hear my dark thoughts and their dark plans," you scream. I was so scared you’d locked the door. But it was open. And I came in pleading, “There’s another way." Now I'm the target. Relieved, I hit the wall.
But our daughter is safe and we lock the door and she sobs. And sobs. I hold her. I feel the deep shaking of betrayal but I am still. Detached. I worry if anyone heard. What will the neighbors think? We’ve been here before. And before I can close another window, “GET OUT!” blasts my eldest and baby outside their home where they are alone with neighbors on cell phones calling us on our charade of a happy family life. The police are on their way.
Son, I’m so proud of you for protecting your brothers. You took them to the neighbor’s house and kept them safe. You were afraid. If you hadn’t been holding your brother I wonder if you would have yielded the nudging to come find us. You are courageous. A protector. I pray that you will grow tall and unwarped by our mistakes.
And yet I, consumed by fear, ask you why you took your brothers and involved the neighbors… who ask how I’m doing. Concern. I will not be a victim. I will not be ashamed. I WILL think the best of my husband. Be a good Christian. So I downplay the day's fracture that still resonates within each tender body and we head home to the empty house of broken promises. Even change my clothes before the kind policeman swallows my half truth, “My husband is going through a rough time. No, no one was harmed.” Places everyone. Lights, camera, action.
I hate myself. I’m consumed with the opinions of others at the expense of my children. Where are you, Love? Why can’t I find You or access You? Cover my children with You at night. Take shelter in You during the storm.
Grace.
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