Abuse is control

Sometime in the middle of 1970, a man looking out of a second-story window he sees his two sons walking home from school.  The two boys living a normal day Like any other day, The oldest was seven years old and the other was six, they also had a younger sister who is at the time was barely four years old.  The apartment was large enough for the family, two bedrooms, one bath kitchen, and living room only minutes away and walking distance from the Catholic school which the two boys attended.

On this day, it was slightly different than any other day in which the boys were unaware of, once they walked up the stairs and entered the apartment it was apparent that something was not right.  They looked around and they saw that everything was destroyed,

The TV was smashed in, the record player was broken, the lamps were crumbled on the floor, the table was turned over, plates and cups were broken.  About the only thing that looked intact was the metal fire truck in which both boys played with.

The father was still Stoneface looking out the second-story window onto the streets. Barely acknowledging the presence of the boys playing in the smashed apartment, lost in thoughts, focused as he continued to look out the window.

The eldest son noticed a cable that looked like from a car spark plug connection and began to play with it by banging on the metal fire truck. His father looked over his right shoulder and with a stern voice said to the eldest “bring that to me” and then told both boys to go into the room.

About the moment when the boys went into the room, the front door opened and their mother walked in.  She looked at the devastation in the apartment and her words were "what's this!!!".

The boy’s father had already turned around and moved away from the window and faced their mother and his words to her were "you lied to me".  That's when the eldest son noticed that same cable for the spark plug connection that he was playing with in his father's hand.

What happened after only the oldest son recalls in detail and to this day recalling the screams of his mother back in 1970.  He was not even eight years old and although most moments from that time period are a slight blur he can still recall that frightening day as if it was still happening.

The conversations that he has held with his brother's many yrs later explaining in detail the events that occurred that day, events that he never had the coverage to ask his parents why.  Perhaps it was because he was not sure of the effects of that day that they still might have or because of the effects that day had on him.

He still recalls those shadows, seeing his father come down with a close fist

onto his mother's face, then punching on her back, then backhand slapping her.  There was only one moment, even though it was brief moment his mother got away from his grasp and ran to the door.  She managed to open the door as at those same moment folks that lived on the third floor were walking up the stairs and she pleaded for them to help. But the eldest son’s father grabbed her and forced the door close as he continued to strike at her.

All the while both of his sons screaming and shouting and crying and pleading with his father to stop both scared both didn't have the strength to step in.  What seemed like a long time may have only been minutes but it was long enough to cause the type of physical damage and mental anguish on the mother, and the sons.

The boys were running from the door of the bedroom to the window as if looking to flee, and yet not finding a way to escape those events.  It looked like forever but then the oldest son finds that his grandmother is at the door, more than likely the neighbors called and the door was now opened and she commence arguing with their father and then slowly as if it was a slow-motion movie they can see the grandmother taking the daughter away down the stairs and to the hospital.  Both sons were still in the room when the door was closed and the remark of the father to the grandmother was a sarcastic "yeah okay".

Later that evening the police arrive taking the father away charging him with assault and he spent some time in Jail. The boy’s aunt arrived and like slow moving hurt animal the boys gathered their things and were taken to their grandmother’s house.

This piece is not meant to accept likes or dislikes, comments whether positive or negative and judgment whether warranted or not.  The piece is only to put into words what happened on that day, perhaps by writing it down the sounds of that night, the shadows of the beating or the colors of the event would change and those feelings could be subdued for the eldest son.

The trick is learning from the experience and then not repeating what happened, trying to understand the reasons and causes of the beating then finally trying to find closure.

To some this experience may seem like nothing to others it might seem like allot it, but doesn't really matter, the experience is for the judgment of the eldest son only and it was something very ugly.

As for that eldest son he is hoping to someday escape from those sounds and feelings of that night.  It doesn't come up often, but sometimes, an event; a sound bite will trigger the memory.

The mother forgave the father and the father admitted to his mistakes, a couple of years later both would divorce. Sixteen years would pass and the father was stricken with cancer and on his deathbed, his children were there at and so was their mother.

The oldest son in later years took care of his mother never letting any man ever come close to hurting her ever again, and all three brothers were at her bedside upon her passing.

One thing is clear to the eldest son, those events shape who he is today, always watching for those signs and everything that happens today only brings back those memories.

But only the memories, nothing more.