Forgiveness

My co-worker experienced something rather traumatic with one of her children last week—her nearly two year old daughter was bit by a dog. Luckily she’s okay, but the effect on her and the rest of the family is reverberating. She was trying to put a brave face in front of us, but it was obvious she was still so visibly shook by the events that took place. She spoke about how her and her husband were trying to not show their anger in front of their children over the events that transpired—they don’t want them to have that as an image in their heads and how it doesn’t really benefit anyone by putting those emotions on display. They blamed themselves even though logically both understood it was a random occurrence that just happened. As parents, they taught both their children how to properly approach dogs, how to treat dogs, especially if they were reacting to them a certain way. As parents, they did all the correct things yet the worst still happened.

I’ve met her daughter and have had a few interactions with her in the past so hearing about this and seeing my co-worker extremely distraught made me feel so saddened about the entire situation. It’s been almost a week, and it’s still sticking with me. It made me think about my parents, and the amount of times they probably put on a brave face in front of me and my brother because they were doing what any parent would do: try to protect their children.

A lot of times I just thought my parents were blase about certain things that happened to us, as if it weren’t as big of a deal as it was. However I’m beginning to think they kept a lot of stuff inside to not freak me and my brother out. I know my dad did a pretty good job of hiding my mother’s addictions from us throughout their marriage, so good that when my parents divorced and my mother relapsed, it came to a massive shock to me and my brother to see it unravel before us. When we told my dad, he was so matter of fact, not realizing he had been dealing with my mother for sixteen years. He was more than familiar with her issues, the episodes that would occur. It almost seemed callous until I, myself, had to deal with it on an almost regular basis throughout middle and high school. When my mother got like that, I couldn’t afford to feel or fall apart in that moment. In that moment, I had to be the parent myself and put on a brave face for my mom. I had to assure her it was going to be okay, that she was going to be okay, otherwise she’d really go off the deep end. God knows what was there.

My dad will never tell me this, and while my mom wasn’t the best person to keep a secret, I think she took this one to her grave because she knew how much it would hurt me if I knew the truth, but I think the multiple sexual assaults I went through was more than likely a major reason why my parents split. I’m sure my mother’s addictions didn’t help, either, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence a year after I reported it my parents announced their separation. Seeing my co-worker barely keep it together at work made me wonder how many times my mom went into work during that time period, not able to hold it together but was forced to since she was a waitress and being pleasant was part of the job description. I’m sure one of the few times she could fall apart about it was with her co-workers. I don’t know how my parents talked about it, if they even did. Knowing how I keep things in until I implode, I’m sure they probably were sweeping it under the rug or barely acknowledging it. I’ll never know, but I’m sure they felt like my co-worker—helpless and filled with guilt, endlessly blaming themselves for something they couldn’t control.

I’ve had some sort of anger towards them for so long, and to an extent, I still do, but as I interact with more parents, I am beginning to see why they made some of the decisions they did. They did the best with the information they had, and made choices they thought were the best at the time. My brother and I came out relatively okay, so they weren’t the worst decisions by a mile. In a way, I am beginning to forgive them for some of the stuff they did. They’re human, and like the rest of us, they’re just trying to figure it out as they go along. I can’t be mad at the fact that maybe they took the wrong path when they were just trying to protect us. It just proves how much they loved us. That’s all I can ask for.