My first realization came, when during a conversation with my cousin, I found out that my cousin's daughter and his step-daughter had been molested by my cousin's father. I was horrified for those two little girls. I had been victimized by the same man, many years ago. My cousin explained that he filed charges against his father, and there was a trial that was going on. The next thing I know, there's a knock on the door. It's my Dad. He said he thought he would stop by and say hi, and have a cup of coffee with me. He did this often. Checking up on his little girl and his nephew. Just an excuse to visit. So, I would put on a pot of coffee (if he didn't bring along his 'famous' thermos of coffee),and we would sit down and chat. He wanted to know if I had heard that his nephew/my cousin, Darrell was pulling some shit. That he was accusing his father of molesting his daughters. Then, the next sentence sent my heart to the floor. He said, the next morning, he had an appointment to testify for his brother, Darrell's father. I said, "testify, testify to what"? He said, "to his character, of course". He said, "I'm going to tell that court that (*&^(*&%^& (I still can't say his name) is not the monster that Darrell says he is. I knew that I couldn't let that happen. If my father knew what that man had done to me, he would never do this. But, I couldn't just tell him, he will be shattered. So, I called my brother, Steve. I explained what had happened, and asked if he would drive with me up to Paradise to tell my Dad's sister, Melma what was going on. My dad was very close to her. I knew when I told him, if he didn't have someone to talk to, to vent his anger, he just might take a gun, and go up and kill )*(+_)*+. I couldn't bare that, and my Dad didn't deserve to go to prison for killing a piece of shit. So, that afternoon, Steve and I set off for Paradise. It's about 3 hours, or so from the Bay Area. I called my Aunt Melma, so she was expecting me. I didn't say why I was coming, just that it was important that I talk with her. She said, "well, I don't know what all this is about, but, you just come on up, Gordon and I will be here". My Aunt Melma and Uncle Gordon were more than family, they were friends. Especially, to my Dad. So, I knew, if something in my Dad's life came crashing down, he would go to them for support, or just to vent.
Steve and I got to my Aunt and Uncle's house, and as usual, she had baked a fresh pie. She cut us a piece, and got us some coffee, and my chest felt like it was about to explode. I told them the entire story. I told them about the conversation I had with Darrell, the awful things that my Dad & Melma's brother had done to me, and now my Dad was going to testify the next morning to defend his character, and how I just couldn't let this happen. My Uncle Gordon asked, what can we do? I said, "I just wanted you to know, because, when I tell my Dad, I'm worried he may go off on the deep end. I want to make sure he has someone that he trusts and loves that he knows he can come to to talk to about it."
My Dad had told me the day before that he would come by on his way to Sonora the next morning. So, I decided, this is when I would tell him his brother was a monster, and that everything Darrell and his daughters were saying were, in fact, true. I knew this would be the hardest thing I had ever done. This is my Dad's pal that I will be talking about. At the time, his best friend. I called my Mom, to tell her about what had happened,and also to prepare her, and warn her that I would be doing this. My Mom had always been supportive to me. But, until the last 24hrs, I hadn't told a soul about this. Now, my Mom, Steve, my Aunt & Uncle, and now my Father would know. I felt like I was unraveling. But, there was no going back now. So, I put on a pot of coffee, and waited for my Dad to arrive.
So, I quietly sat down next to him, and explained, that he couldn't keep this appointment. He couldn't do what he was asked to do. He was very confused. He kept studying my face. He was quiet.
I revealed what I had kept to myself my entire life. I was 27 years old now. I told him that when I was eight years old, that man did the same thing to me while our families were camping together. I said, "Darrell is not making this up, and neither are the girls". I said, "you can't go Dad. I won't let you get up on that stand and say things about that man that just aren't true". He began to weep. He couldn't stop. I knew I had just broke my fathers heart. It was the hardest thing I had ever had to say to my father.
My father stayed home that day. He would never see his brother again. I knew that was hard on him. All his life his family was so important to him. The connection that he had with each family member. It's what kept him going. Neither he or I ever spoke about it again. We both just tried to go on. It was somewhat healing for me to say the truth to my father about the sins of his brothers past. But, not so healing for my father. He was hurt deeply. For me, yes. But also for himself. He had to not only grieve the loss of his baby brother that he thought he had known so well, but would never see again. He also had to try and forgive himself for not protecting his little girl. I knew he partially took the blame for what had happened to me. He should have been there. He should have watched me closer. My sweet father would suffer, carrying those restless thoughts the rest of his days. Sometimes he would spend time alone, just he and his tomato patch. My heart was heavy, knowing the tortuous thoughts that my father struggled with alone in his garden.
I learned recently that my Dad's brother died in March of this year. I remember feeling angry that he was allowed to have a longer life on earth than my father. That is so unfair. My father made some mistakes that I'm sure he was regretful for.but he was a very good man and the very best father & a very loving husband to my Mom. I was always very proud of my Dad for the way he raised my brothers and I. And my Dad was the best Grandfather I could have ever wished for. The other "sub-human" just existed. No one will ever say any of those great things about him...because they weren't true. He breathed in and he breathed out. One day he was born, one day he died. All that he did in between that time was exist. If he did anything, it was iniquitous and depraved. He never contributed anything positive to this earth.
I understand that "vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord".But, I like to think I am allowed one wish in return for his evil acts against children in general, and for the acts he committed upon me personally. My wish is that he return to where he came from. The fiery pits beneath earth. May he burn in hell forever more. And, may his sick and immoral, evil accomplice of a wife join him very soon.
May God forgive me and have mercy on my soul for my vengefull thoughts. In the name of the Lord, Amen.
I revealed what I had kept to myself my entire life. I was 27 years old now. I told him that when I was eight years old, that man did the same thing to me while our families were camping together. I said, "Darrell is not making this up, and neither are the girls". I said, "you can't go Dad. I won't let you get up on that stand and say things about that man that just aren't true". He began to weep. He couldn't stop. I knew I had just broke my fathers heart. It was the hardest thing I had ever had to say to my father.
My father stayed home that day. He would never see his brother again. I knew that was hard on him. All his life his family was so important to him. The connection that he had with each family member. It's what kept him going. Neither he or I ever spoke about it again. We both just tried to go on. It was somewhat healing for me to say the truth to my father about the sins of his brothers past. But, not so healing for my father. He was hurt deeply. For me, yes. But also for himself. He had to not only grieve the loss of his baby brother that he thought he had known so well, but would never see again. He also had to try and forgive himself for not protecting his little girl. I knew he partially took the blame for what had happened to me. He should have been there. He should have watched me closer. My sweet father would suffer, carrying those restless thoughts the rest of his days. Sometimes he would spend time alone, just he and his tomato patch. My heart was heavy, knowing the tortuous thoughts that my father struggled with alone in his garden.
I learned recently that my Dad's brother died in March of this year. I remember feeling angry that he was allowed to have a longer life on earth than my father. That is so unfair. My father made some mistakes that I'm sure he was regretful for.but he was a very good man and the very best father & a very loving husband to my Mom. I was always very proud of my Dad for the way he raised my brothers and I. And my Dad was the best Grandfather I could have ever wished for. The other "sub-human" just existed. No one will ever say any of those great things about him...because they weren't true. He breathed in and he breathed out. One day he was born, one day he died. All that he did in between that time was exist. If he did anything, it was iniquitous and depraved. He never contributed anything positive to this earth.
I understand that "vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord".But, I like to think I am allowed one wish in return for his evil acts against children in general, and for the acts he committed upon me personally. My wish is that he return to where he came from. The fiery pits beneath earth. May he burn in hell forever more. And, may his sick and immoral, evil accomplice of a wife join him very soon.
May God forgive me and have mercy on my soul for my vengefull thoughts. In the name of the Lord, Amen.
