Category Archives: parenting

all the rivers

Posted on by
3

no.

all the bodies

of water in texas

run to the sea

run to the words

of our ancient creed

the body of a man

downed–

corpus Christi

his mother, a lake

and the sound of an island

Father…

 maybe I love them…

because of the Jesuits

because Spanish is a mother tongue

Corpus Christi, Padre Island, Laguna Madre…

all the rivers flow to the sea

all the beautiful rivers–

the Trinity used to be my favorite

even when it would flood

and desperate men would sand bag it

or flee for higher ground

but there are other rivers now

that haunt my memory,

the Guadalupe, for instance

means–

girl comes from wolves

from the valley of wolves

spreads foreign roses at my feet

there is no “g” or “d” in my native language

but then maybe Juan Diego himself was just a phantom

like the pings off a cell

tower

electrical beacons conspiring

with sound

looking for a lost son

what river do you cross

to enter Texas?

and what river do you cross

to leave it?

go down to that River that runs to the sea

and find my boy,

all our lost children

Come Home.

 

 

d

imagine Grief

Posted on by
Reply

is a beautiful

girl

swimming

smooth strokes through the water

how did she learn to do that?

was it me?

was it you?

was it the strength of all our recessive

genes?

we would say everything

she did was beautiful

and that would be true

but we were

her family

and now

that she has slipped

through the waters

with her confident stroke

not paddling

awkwardly like a child

when i was a child…i thought like a child

reasoned like a…

child

come back!

you can do flip turns

with your eyes closed

come back–

do not

put childish ways behind you–

I need you here

cannot

think

of the world

one day without you

even though I know–

believe–

that we do see

but a poor reflection

(as in a mirror)

then we

shall

see

face to face

Again.

(tiny voice)

still small voice…

come back–

searching hope

Posted on by
2

once wrote

about

a counterpane

of fish

living

fish–

a dream

breathed into life by a

quilter

and a Man

who says

I will make you

fishers

of men

 

all these years later

I walk all the edges

of another woman’s storm

the signal tracks

from the

coast of Texas

all the way to the Pacific

crossing fast

too fast

toward winter…

Australia?

can you be there?

already?

that is what I would think if I were your mother

I would search the shore,

each map

the satellite

dropped pins

and the faces of

friends and strangers

for signs of my missing

son.

where the bleep is Ronan Farrow when you need him?

Posted on by
2

My little one wanted to go to the beach.  His cuteness trumped democracy and we went to the beach instead of the park.

While there we witnessed a bullying incident I would classify as both assault and child abuse.  A group of older children were repeatedly dragging a little boy through the water and pushing his head down under the waves.  He was crying.

When I realized what was going on I yelled for them to stop and asked the people on the shore who was responsible for the teens?  An older woman announced that she was and that the little boy was being justly punished for throwing sand into a teenage girl’s eyes.

I was appalled and shaken.  In any other place I would have immediately called 911.  Here, I am convinced they will not respond.  I took my kids to our van and continued to eye the situation with the abusive family. I filmed the woman briefly and attracted her threats and fury.  I did report the incident to the police but am unconvinced I did enough.  I should have begun filming immediately and called 911 immediately.  I think now that I should have waded into the water to physically intervene and asked the boy directly if he needed physical shelter.  I should have stayed with him and insisted on intervention.

It was not enough.  And now I will be forever haunted by a little boy, helpless among his own.

note-this had another name in the title, I changed it to a guy I do actually think is pretty heroic

In my Father’s House

Posted on by
Reply

There is a camp that we go to every summer.  The kids love it.  Years ago it taught me about heaven–

Beautiful place/people kind, generous, helpful/full of joy/few there are afraid to be childlike/exuberant

Good dancing/food/music

This year we brought home a bug which is now besetting my 4 yr old

When he threw up at 2 am he apologized

My poor darling.

I told him that was why I am here.  No problem.  I love him.  I got it.

Jesus said in his Father’s house there are many mansions

Which is not an odd thing for a Carpenter God to say, but a very odd thing for a homeless non-materialist.  Like many things He says it illuminates when a person walks behind Him.

He means shelters

Hangouts

Splendor

He means God giving us His own

Beautiful Heart

Forgiveness is not the same as lying about the past

Posted on by
Reply

A friend asked me, do you put the kids to bed and at least get five minutes to yourself?  No, I say, not really but I like them all…

Hours later I realize how strange that must sound, how incomplete.  What I see in my head is thirteen years of eidetic episodes of unlikable events–bullying, tantrums,  swearing, violent protracted rages, physical assaults, homicidal imaginary friends, routine larceny, and lies, cursing of the most egregious kind.  Some stories so awful I do not want to write about the hurt.  And all of this before the years of C’s sexual felonies were dragged to light.

Most sane and normal people would have known better, right?  We believed if we did not give up on m and c they would be good, or at least better because of love.  Because of Love.

Jesus said, greater love has no man than he lays down his life for his friend.

Somethings are easier than others to lay down, I say beneath the shadow of the Cross.

Those 13 years took things that did not belong to me from the most precious people I know.  To say I like my children is an understatement.

They are my heroes.

100 books

Posted on by
Reply

the day i let go of the rope i decided, why not write?

if someone mined the interior of my computer they would find fragments of the same terrible story–for years i wrote to stay sane

when i finally wrote the book it was an act of defense not just for my children but for the millions of other children who have been silenced and marginalized by abuse, especially sexual abuse

after I wrote the book I sprinted to edit it and clean it up and then I bought a hundred copies.  I have given them out.  That was the goal I had set for myself and the image that goes with it has been with me for years:

When M. and C. were little they had so many tantrums so regularly I often thought about the climatic moment in the now ancient movie The Witness–the bad guys are about to win when a contingent of Amish neighbors appear on the horizon.  Their numbers and witness prevent violence.  Over the years I have longed for those Amish people–a group of witnesses preventing violence.  And that was the idea–one hundred books, one hundred witnesses.  The justice system is falling short and sexual predators are allowed to do much more damage than they should because we do not have an effective system to just identify them and prevent them access to children.  If you add the terrible price of silence and the way it cuts children off from healing and community–something needs to change.

Now that I have gotten to the watermark of 100 books I feel compelled to reiterate my offer.  Want a copy?  Send me your address.

lists in my head

Posted on by
Reply

i keep thinking about Meghan’s suggestion that i should write a prevention list at the end of the book.  i should, but i haven’t because it haunts me,  i genuinely believed for years that i was protecting my children from abuse, but i was wrong,  so the only list i feel qualified to write is remedial–a list of don’t, not do’s, that i write brokenly–like writing to the person i thought i was before…

don’t think you can be too careful or paranoid

don’t take advice from people whose parenting models you don’t agree with

don’t second guess your instinct

don’t think that instinct will be enough

don’t expect a child abuser to tell the truth (they won’t)

and don’t expect them to have a conscience (they don’t)

don’t believe statistics ( sexual abuse is ridiculously underreported)

don’t believe the myths surrounding both predators and their victims

(for instance most victims of abuse are not abusers

and abusers will lie about everything to save their skin or keep abusing)

don’t think that there is an economic, racial, or educational profile for predators, there isn’t

don’t think abuse is rare

remember 6 degrees of separation?  it is my contention that if you have not been the victim of a sexual predator, you have a close relationship or family relationship with someone who has

why?

because all the predators I know or have heard of had an AVERAGE of 10 victims

that means that if even 10% of the population is a predator, we are all victims

don’t think that prevention checklists, sex offender registry, and warning sign checklists will ferret out most abuse

which leads to my next post..