I recently found out my son was getting married. He is the last of my sons to get married. I found out, because his older brother mentioned it to me. Back to that in a moment.
I haven’t spoke much about my past (on this topic), but I was married before. I married at 18-years old and married a VERY abusive man. I was young and naive. I don’t regret having four children in my first marriage, but I do regret that he is their father.
I had to literally escape from my ex-husband, in the early morning hours, with only my mother to see off on the Greyhound bus that left NY for CA. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly, but after two attempts on my life, the joke of legal assistance by NY police and courts, I wasn’t safe. If I had stayed, my children would have been visiting my grave versus having the option of passing judgement on my decisions and harboring anger toward me.
Long story short, my ex-husband eventually beat a woman he knew, in the face with a brick, over a dispute over $50.00. The cops failed to do their job. News staff contaminated the crime scene. He went to prison on an E-felony instead of a higher charge, which would have kept him behind bars for a longer time.
Needless to say, even 3,000 miles away, I lived my life in fear. I did attend group counseling for battered women. At one point, before leaving for CA, I was diagnosed with battered women’s syndrome. My ex-husband will always be a threat to me. There is no doubt in my mind. I haven’t seen him in 21 years and I have no plans to do so. We only spoke to each other through various court appearances (me appearing by phone). My children will never know or understand the terror I survived. While, I have told them I was abused by their father, they don’t have many details or know the extent. Yet, they still choose him over me. Simple reason: I left.
Back to my son getting married. This son is the one who wants nothing to do with me. I have been allowed back into my other (adult) children’s lives, in various stages. I messaged my son and asked for his address to send him a wedding present. He told me it wasn’t necessary. I responded that it’s something I wanted to do and I had done the same for his other brothers.
Yesterday, on the anniversary of my sister’s death (one of hardest days of the year) he chose to tell me he didn’t trust me enough with address. I could give it to his oldest brother to deliver it to him, if I insisted on sending him a gift.
To say I was upset, was an understatement. Not trust me? I messaged his brother. I was expecting some support. I thought my oldest and I had made a lot of progress. I was severely mistaken. He told me he doesn’t accept the choices I made but was trying to understand them. Then, he felt like twisting the knife that he just lunged into my back, by saying I was lucky any of my kids wanted to have anything to do with me.
WOW! I had to shut the conversation down. All the progress I foolishly thought we had made just flew out the window. At least now I know where I stand; with those two sons. I also know where I stand with my daughter.
Part of the reason I had my youngest child was 1) my second husband had no children 2) I needed to prove to myself I wasn’t a horrible parent. I have done everything in my power to be a good mom.
I can’t change the past and I have been trying to make amends for what I felt was the only decision that could be made. I find it ironic, a convicted, violent felon, who was the reason I left, is more welcomed in their life than I am.
I can only pray one day they will see the light of how serious my situation was at the time. That my older children will want a relationship with their youngest sibling. For now, I am done. The ball in is in their court. If they choose to end the game, that’s their decision.