I keep trying to remember exactly what happened. How is it that the people I loved and cherished so dearly abandoned me in my time of trouble? Why is it that these people will still not talk with me? I search my memories for clues; Clues that will make sense to me and be consistent with the personalities of people I once knew.
It’s like trying to find memories after a fire destroys a house. Even the parts that didn’t burn are melted and out of shape. Or trying to find and piece together the past after a hurricane or flood. The stuff that is left is worthless. Can this be true? The memories I have, like film that breaks in the middle of a conversation: A DVD that stops just as something is going to happen. Then skips to the next chapter. This is my brain.
I remember three conversations where she was trying to tell me something. Something I could no longer comprehend. I remember my confusion and pain at the time. Worse, I remember what I have learned in this study of the damage which occurs to the brain. For forty years I tell myself she was in no danger. But now, I no longer have that confidence. In the pain of profound trauma, and I wonder if mine went this deep, I wonder what I would have done. How confused was I? Maybe, I should except that her perception was accurate and she was in danger. After all, Rocky did bite me. In his pain, he bit me. And I was confused by extreme pain. Enough pain to spend forty years in denial.
Even if I hurt her unintentionally, the pain she received was for a lifetime.
Father, this is what I find. This is where the evidence points. All I have is brokenness. I give it to you. Use it for your glory. Amen.
ceg
Written: 11/17/17