When we first watched AD I thought it was brilliant, wacky, dysfunctional.
Then my family came unglued and I realized they were much more functional than us
Arrested Development
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Cat stories
Years ago there were two stray cats who adopted us. They were pregnant at the same time and had two litters of kittens. J. had the brilliant idea to give the kittens away at a preschool graduation.
One of our children was quite upset about his decision. She wailed as he took them to the school- mom, he’s giving away all the kittens!!!
The same two cats had a subsequent litter and taught their kittens to stay well away from humans–not to be trusted.
The dragon and the human child
It is your choice to believe.
The dragon might have always been a dragon and the story might have been the simple gift of a child.
Or…perhaps the dragon was once a woman who was robbed of her human form by the usual wizardly enchantment. Had she been foolish or proud? Had she refused the wrong man’s hand?
The dragon is not saying. She has wrapped herself in a mantle of smoke. She is thinking about what is to be done with the lovely small thing wrapped in a soft blanket, somehow sleeping next to the warm heft of her serpentine splendor.
Surely no child should be raised by a dragon…
She thinks
And yet how could she bear to lose him?
How could she ever bear to live away from this bundle of light?
Epilogue
justcould have been a much longer book full of the things you find in successful memoirs–descriptions of meals and vacations and conversations in transit. It stops abruptly (except for the necessary introduction) two years ago at the end of 2009.
I did not put the rest of the story in because it was worse, yes, worse.
Our families, church, and many colleagues did not handle our story well. Our children were isolated and lonely. Out of everyone we knew, one couple confronted Charles about what he had done. Most people sent him cards and money. Some said unspeakable things.
Many long acquaintances just withdrew. Some old friends disappeared.
There was something good and valuable that happened.
Dozens of abuse survivors and rape victims shared their stories. We may have winnowed out family and friends, but we are deeply grateful for those who have listened, shared, and grieved with us.
And we now know that the only uncommon thing about our story is our willingness to speak out. Most families hide the story and ignore the damage.
It is time for that to change.
It is long past time.
Every family, church or community that turns a blind eye to an identified predator is responsible for the victims
All the innocent victims.
What I would tell you
What I would tell you
If we spoke a common tongue
Is that he plays for you
The music you gave him
Fills our beautiful house
He misses you
Only he could
Tell you
If he misses you more
Than the day you told him
He was no longer
Your son
Because of me.
Goes with “who is”
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Imagine an ordinary dragon
Had a human child
She would hide herself
With clever disguises
A colorful kerchief
Or floral apron
She would
Measure her breathing
Careful always
To hide the wisps
Of steam and smoke
Rising from her armored chest
But you would know
You could tell
The little things
She could not hide
Her bloodshot eyeballs
And cerulean scales
The wrinkles of a thousand years of waiting
For the child she held
So dear
Who is
The man
Too thin to be real
Standing on the beach
With the sky behind him?
Endless sky
Endless sky
Mirrored in a shallow sea
To have time in your hands
And eternity in your eyes
With the sky behind you?
Standing on the beach
Too thin to be real
man
The stages of grief
I stay up too late. I am looking for meaning. I feel like an old woman rummaging through her things, longing for the people attached to them–
Tom’s chair
Ruby’s dress
The people I want back are mostly living. I want them to be braver or more honorable, kinder or stronger.
But they are not. So I rummage
For meaning
For hope
For the person I once was
This is my nightly vigil
My grief.
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