A fellow New Thought minister and online friend wrote this poem. It moved me deeply. If you grew up in an abusive home, you may relate to her pain. Susanne has now found love in her life. She has done a lot of healing and is now helping others. It is a testament to the strength and courage of her spirit and the power of love. If you are experiencing abuse in your life right now, reach out for help. Tell someone--a pastor, friend, the police. If you are an abuser, the same is true: reach out for help. Now.
Mom hit us with her fist. Hard.
She also hit me over the head
with 1" thick broom sticks,
I can still feel the dent--
she striped our legs with lathe
or switches, smacking with
either side of her hand,
hitting me with an iron skillet. Cold.
Anything that was handy really--
if she was mad and I was nearby.
Mom slugged me when I was tiny.
I would fly across the room
and land on the furniture,
arms and legs akimbo, stunned.
Or I'd smash into a wall and drop
to the floor in a shriveled pile.
I don't remember being hugged
or kissed, or having my hand held
gently, kindly, guidingly.
I remember my arm being jerked
one way or another,
lifted off the ground like a rag doll
My shoulder painful, sore.
I don't remember being loved, but I remember loving,
I remember loving each of
my two sisters and two brothers,
and even the one who was sent away-
Adopted by strangers,
not spoken of aloud by the adults
in the room, whispered about
with my sister under the woven bedcover
in the chilly darkness at our grandparents,
or in the wagon wheel bunk beds,
When we were lonely and wished for someone
to love us more than a fist.
Please visit Susanne Freeborn on her blog: http://open.salon.com/content.php?cid=97018
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Comments: 28
Thank you for posting and for the message.
Hugs and blessings - S.
My dad was an abusive, bi-polar alcoholic, very sick man and my mother was self-absorbed and selfish. I remember her standing there watching as he hit me and doing nothing. When he would go to bed, she would give me money and send me to my grandmothers.
I tried for years to get along with them and finally figured out that I didn't have to.
I knew I was loved by grandmother and my aunt, they were my redemption.
Happiest times in my life were when I had nothing to do with them.
I honestly did not cry when they passed. My brother was weeping. He kept trying to gain their love by being the good son. They never hit him and they gave him everything, but the emotional abuse ruined him forever. I left him to them and walked away.
If you see or know of a child who needs help, do something. We all are responsible for all children. They are weak and we are strong.
This is a complicated problem because many of the abusers were abused so the larger perspective issue can be about the conflict between forgiveness and responsibility.
Ultimately as thinking and reasoning adults, the abusers have to hold some degree of responsibility and knowledge of just how deep the damage is and how far it can carry into the future (personally for victims, and future generations as abused become abusers). There is no excuse for this to happen, and anyone involved in this or who knows about personal examples should recognize the magnitude of pain involved, emotional and physical. Often the abusers have control issues, or other personal complexes that must be overcome, and recognition is the first step in dealing with those.
Children are especially vulnerable because they are so impaired by this, and they are unable to get out the way a spousal abuse victim could.
Also, this problem can extend to animals. Animal abuse is a serious problem in our society that we should not overlook, because they are "just animals" They are innocent beings, unable to protect themselves.
This is a very important topic that can certainly use more understanding and public exposure.
...and I'm also seriously against Rodeos in any kind of civilized society. I just don't think it's right for humans to make sport of roping a little calf, who doesn't choose to be there, jumping on him, and wrestling him to the ground, breaking bones or whatever. I've posted about this on a few forums over the years, and nobody (practically nobody) agrees.... sigh.
About the rodeos, I was appalled when moving to Tucson, Arizona, I learned that they do not recognize President's Day as a school holiday. Rather, the children attend school on that Monday and then are given Wed to Friday off for Rodeo Day. It seems, the Rodeo is the more important celebration. I've lived here for 15 years, and still can't believe they do this. Two years ago, a 5 year old girl was killed in the rodeo parade by a spooked horse. Her parents and the rodeo coordinators broke their own rules by allowing her to ride in the parade. They were not charged for the "accident" even though the age limit was not adhered to.