Deliverance

Ladies prayer group (okay, 'women's': sexist conditioning kicks in again).  Who knew.  No one showed up the day after the long holiday weekend.  None but one.  The one whose book I'm reading, along with biblical texts, and another on mega giving.  It's all helping.

Getting up today, I had to go; hadn't been yet.  Participating in lots of other stuff, but that. So I went, theology books in hand in case no one was there.  It's a special place, and a school.  The kids there don't know how lucky they are yet, at least most of them.  Some appear to thrive.

Showing up and drawing interest, caring, compassion, enthusiasm.  It couldn't have been just my choosing to go, it was more, much more.  The calm before the storm.  I was accepted, not criticized or scrutinized.  That would be an understatement.  Just being myself and honest, a cheerleader appeared.

Was I kicking someone off the throne?  If I did, I didn't get on it either.  Did I want to feel them at 'my level'?  Perhaps.  Therein lies an argument, that doesn't have to be one.  Is the spirit here, or above?  I argue it's everywhere, at all times, not called upon enough.

We can't wrap our heads around in our tiny human minds that everything is known in advance, though can still be changed by reaching out, to the right places.  As big as we can imagine isn't big enough; we haven't seen it all, yet.

"Blog Day"

The last day of the month, except when I'm completely overwhelmed and forget what day it is, even if I've thought of it earlier in the day. Not even a blip on the radar from disclosing a 'family secret' from anyone who is even remotely connected, not that I expected any necessarily. If anything, I expected someone to be angry. No one in particular, really. It shows just how much people actually link to what's provided in an email signature, or where it might be otherwise located.

It had to come out: the only time I can ever remember while still very young being 'happy' upon finding out that someone had died. He was loved by his mother, the author of a hand written family saga with a much better memory for names and people than I have right now. He was also a child predator, of family members. Nothing all that new given the statistics; it just so happens it was in our family, too. The fact is this came out after the victim(s) were far into adulthood; old enough to be a grandparent themselves. The truth is it came out when it was happening, and nothing was done, nothing I was made aware of.

Maybe there was a threat by a father who was more abusive in a different way; maybe he was never asked to come around again to do 'handyman work' around our house. One thing is for sure, if Grandpa had been told, his nephew (I didn't know he was a blood relation at the time), our family handyman may have mysteriously disappeared, off the planet.

Grandpa was a strong positive patriarch, 'man of the church', and former police officer, with lots of guns, as all the male relatives had in those parts, in those days. Grandpa had no 'record', of course, though had he found out his granddaughter had been affected multiple times by this person, 'heaven only knows' what the consequences may have been. Maybe that was what the adults involved were afraid of in not letting it get very far, at all.

All the child knew at the time was that no one did anything, even when they told. And it wasn't the first time something had happened. There were others, like the next door neighbors before we had moved. No memory if anyone was told until again in adulthood, which was met with anger for causing stress. What about the child? What about feeling at the time that no one would listen or do anything anyway.

Grandpa only had a second grade education, forced to go work in the coal mines at age ten for literally pennies. He was wise and smart, and fortunate to be a hard worker not bound by educational requirements in being able to earn a living and provide for his family, unlike today. I wish he had known enough to go to the police himself after he had retired when I was being bullied in school to recover something precious that we knew who took it. The emotional impact was the same. Don't bother telling or 'pushing it', 'you're not worth it', no one will care enough to make it right: that's how it felt. It's what I won't forget, and how I can remember and feel or understand a child's emotions.

Sandy and family secrets III

The previous generation of family secrets lies waiting following the continuing hurricane recovery. We now know even more firsthand how it feels when the rest of the world has forgotten and what remains to be rebuilt will take years for those directly affected. I remember Katrina, and how some places have yet to recover completely. For many here a similar story exists, with impacts that are physical or visible, and wounds festered on an emotional level that may not ever go away entirely.

Helping others has taken some of the sting away. Many of us are grateful not as much was taken from us this time, so that ideally we may assist others in greater need. The only difference in those serving or being served is a zip code.

There are other secrets this generation as well, indirectly related, though no less painful. I will not betray a trust or what exists with something so priceless and valuable. There will be another way for what is essential to surface; it will not come from a disclosure in confidence from who specified it go no further. It's not the kind of harm others readily recognize. Perhaps only those it has also happened to can really understand. It wasn't the same as the generation before, and for that I must remain grateful at this time. The impact, however, is just as lasting and deep, only in a much different way.

Now is the time identity is formed; I will never forget being ridiculed by my own elders. It hurts no less remembering it now, because it affected my potential for moving on in an ideal way. Things like that I can understand may have happened for a reason. For other things, it simply isn't possible to comprehend. There's no good reason for some things to have turned out the way they have, especially when steps were taken specifically to prevent what is happening now and continues from too long to endure the thought of.

There was no protection, only profit from lack of it for others. Preventing protection apparently is a business under the appearance of something else. It appears to be another form of trafficking for monetary gain. The casualties are in the tens of thousands across this country, and those in the north as well. The children are those who suffer most; adults die or become ill from the toll alone. How it affects the entire family is not a consideration. How it affects children lasts a lifetime, becoming other people than who they may have been if safety had been preserved, if someone had put humanity before short term gain or other agendas.

Like a lost home from a natural disaster or otherwise, we can only salvage what's possible in the moment, taking one day at a time, one breath at a time, one step at a time. It almost discounts or dismisses what I was not able to resolve as a child myself in a way I can live with. This is bigger, or that's the way it feels. It's not just us, though there's no consolation that the spectrum contains even more severe circumstances and stories that have also not been told.

This has to stop, or the country will no longer be great. It isn't all about humans for profit in systemic settings as an American 'dirty secret'. There's no one to blame but those here, not outside terrorists. Looking the other way or turning a blind eye is participation, direct engagement is a crime. The gap is narrowing; accountability is on the horizon. The practices cannot continue.

We must know darkness to shine a light, even when the darkness is our own. We have borrowed the planet from our children, as our parents did from us. It was given to us in a state of extreme disrepair with many parts broken. All of the technology we have now cannot artificially reproduce what it takes to adequately repair the damages, especially when they continue. We will not continue screaming in the wind. Our country standing for something is not a given unless we take care of our own. All credibility is lost otherwise, and on the world stage it simply becomes entertainment or cause to further estrange us from moving forward in any way at all.

It's a new year tomorrow, I've been the same age for three years now, and for as long as I can get away with it, maybe a few more. The truth is useful in being closer to another version of retirement, when work becomes for you instead of someone else. My funniest uncle said he wanted to go back to work so that he could have weekends off of his retirement. Being with family, no matter how much work, is not to be given up on. And it will not.