Independence Day
Well she seemed alright by dawns early light
Though she looked a little worried and weak
She tried to pretend she wasn't drinkin' again
But daddy left the proof on her cheek
And I was only eight years old that summer
And I always seemed to be in the way
So I took myself down to the fair in town
On Independence Day
Well word gets around in a small, small town
They said he was a dangerous man
Mama was proud and she stood her ground
But she knew she was on the losin' end
Some folks whispered and some folks talked
But everybody looked the other way
And when time ran out there was no one about
On Independence Day
-Martina McBride, Independence Day
Today I heard a woman say how grateful she was for the support of the Christian community when she went through her divorce... and ALL my issues with this subject came back to me.
This song from Martina McBride is now stuck in my head... how everyone talked, and everyone knew... but when the decision was made to leave, no one was there to help or support her.
I know the whole town knew what he was... how many times did Mom or I get dropped of at church on Sunday mornings, tears running down our faces, from his morning tirades & threats? Why didn't anyone ever ask if we were safe? (Because the knew the answer... and if they heard any more, they'd be forced to act.) How did they sit at home at nights, in their comfy homes with their little families, and never once wonder about us... were we still alive? Were our lives in danger?
And when mom tried to leave, where was this great "community"? No one offered to help her... no one befriended her... it wasn't until I was about 16 (4 years post-seperation) that my mom found friends who were there for her. Oh, except one woman, who preached to her about God's will not being divorce, and blah blah blah... HELLO??!! Did she not realize that my father had GUNS?! What was her MALFUNCTION?!
Did we just hide the secrets to well? Mom might have... I sure didn't. I had enough inner anger to cause a nuclear explosion. (and somewhere deep inside me, is that angry 12-year-old... still screaming out at the top of her lungs... still hurting. But healing, slowly.) How did we fall through the cracks? How could no one see what was SO obvious??
And how can we keep history from repeating itself? How can we prevent another young girl and her mother, from living through what we did?
I have no answers today.
3 comments:
I hear ya, Jana. The church we belonged to was downright awful when my mom went through her divorce. She wasn't allowed to get communion and there was no support whatsoever. The way she was treated among other things turned me off to organized religion. It was terrible to see how such lovely ideas could be turned into such mean-spirited behavior. Yuck.
(((hugs to you)))
p.s. yes, there is a wedding dinosaur. It's purple and wears pearls. :-)
I hear ya too Jana. My mom hid things so well that my sister was forced to lie about her bruises and my dad was smart enough to actually make himself out to look great in front of the church. Once my parents separated for good, my dad couldn't handle that he really had screwed it up and he told everyone at our church my mom was gay and sleeping with her best friend, aka Sandy!!!My mom moved in with her and her HUSBAND because they actually gave her a way out. But I couldn't go back to church anymore and neither could my mom or the family she had moved in with because everyone believed my dad.
I had to go through a long process before I was able to attend church again and not feel angry. It's hard when someone divorces. There's a couple in our church right now who is in the process. Honestly if the church had known all that was going on with them, it would have stepped in long ago. But they were good at hiding. Now the church has rallied around the family, not taking sides, but the father has decided it best for him to go somewhere else. Do I treat him differently because of what I know about him? No! Do I treat her differently because she made a hard decision? No! I come along side, ask how I can help and just show love, not judgment. That's what the church is all about.
never happen again: ask questions when you see a bruise. Carry hotline info. Be willing to step in when you see it happening (ok, the last is dangerous. I've done it because I can't not, Husband hot on my heels to take my back because he knew I wouldn't back down). If you've been there, you know it when you see it. Use your knowledge to talk to the person who is currently there - but all you can do is offer a space to talk or offer them info on getting help. Since you're in a church, make sure it's an issue that's on the top of the table.
take that angry 12 year old into your 26 year lap, hug her and tell her: look, we made it. big smile.
look at the whole experience as a gift that some day you will look back on and understand because you will see where it led you in your life. I promise.
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