Think, Mom. THINK.

Exposing the evil of others often means exposing the demons we hold within.  I'll never be able to open the eyes of my own family and make them realize the abuse I suffered at the hands of EVERY SINGLE MEMBER OF MY ENTIRE FAMILY when I was a child.  My mother would never believe that her perfect angel of a little boy would drag his sister behind the evergreen bushes with the little blue 'berries' on the thick branches, on the corner of the building across the way from our back door - to do unspeakable things to me when I was four years old, even though she herself knows the truth if she were to look deep inside her own heart.  She caught us there once and looked angry and suspicious.  We both lied to her and told her that nothing was happening, but that we were playing hide and seek.  I was four and he'd begged me not to tell anyone because he didn't want to get in trouble, and he didn't want his best friend to get into trouble either.  His 'friend' was there behind the bushes.  His 'friend' was part of the passing off of the innocent little four year old child.  I don't remember his name.  I don't want to.  But he had sandy blonde hair and a navy blue puffy coat over dirty jeans and dirty red shoes. 

Think, Mom.

I know you remember that day.  Think hard.  You came out of the back door looking for us.  We didn't say anything out loud to let you know where we were.  But you must have seen the moving in the bushes because you started to head our way.  You were moving fast. Sherman, in whispers, BEGGED me to not say anything because even though we were 'playing a game' he could get in trouble.  He said to tell you we were playing a game and that's all, not to EVER tell you that he had my pants with the elastic waist down to my knees in that cold air.  THINK! When you gave me a bath that night you asked me about the scratches on my legs.  I told you that I didn't know what happened. THINK. You knew what happened and you refused to admit it to yourself.  THINK ... I know you remember. Close your eyes and think.  You'll remember, I know you can. You have to trust yourself. I know you can do it.  It's okay, you can do this. Find a moment of peace and quiet, think back to Maryland and the building that the back door faced.  Across the way, to the right, all the way on the end of the building were evergreen bushes...  

 THINK!!

It's OK, Mom. I'd lied to you then.  I didn't want you to know.  I was scared to tell you.  I was scared of getting into trouble.  Of course I thought it was my fault when I was four years old. How could it not be my fault?  I thank God that I grew up and I learned the difference.  I can certainly take the blame for skipping school and lying to you all the time when I was a teen.  But I'm nearly forty years old now and I've learned how to take the blame for the things I've done, and to accept when I'm not to blame for the things others have done to me.  I forgive you for not wanting to admit to the evil things that happened to your little girl.  You weren't able to protect me, but it's OK.  Not every parent can protect their children 24/7 you know.  You aren't responsible.  I even forgive you for lashing out at me last week.  You don't know any better.  You weren't there.  It's OK, I don't blame you.  But I'm almost forty years old, and it's time you stop blaming you, too.  You should also know that I don't blame dad.  I don't even blame Sherman - he was just a little boy still.  I don't care about placing blame anymore.  It happened a long time ago and it really messed me up for a long, long time, but I've moved on.  If I can move on, so can you.

Now take the time to think, to remember, and to forgive yourself.  It's not your fault, Mom. But you need to remember in order to move on from it.  And if I can do that, I know you have the strength in you to do it, too.  I think I get a lot of my strength from you.  But please, you must realize that it's not your fault.