My Sweet Boy
You sweet little boy. I’m so sorry for what happened to you. While I am so heavy-hearted at what befell you, I am grateful for the circumstances that led me and several others to be there and do our best to intervene.
I wonder, how old are you? Was that your mother? Where are you now?
As I left the store I was only focused on remembering my next stop . As I stepped off the curb, I looked up and my mind struggled to interpret what my eyes were seeing. A woman four times your size, loudly barked at you while grasping your right hand to hold you still. With her closed fist and rampant rage, she continuously punched your sweet little head. After about 5 or even more audible blows she pulled you up by your right arm, about one foot off the ground. She held you there for what seemed like several long minutes- while continuing to shriek in your face. I and the other onlookers pleaded with her to stop- and were met with her demanding that we mind our “own [expletive] business.”
You didn’t even flinch. But why?
Sadly, after working for years as an assault nurse, I know that answer. This was far from your first time. You are not new to this one-sided boxing match. You have never won. You never will win. There are no purses to be claimed, no one to stop the fight, and no amount of ice will soothe your wounds. The healing of your invisible scars will take years- if you are so lucky. So lucky to survive and even luckier to find emotional healing from the one-sided war where you were placed on the front line without anything to protect yourself. And to think that the very person who placed you there was the one who should have protected you… from herself.
I, and the couple who saw you being brutally battered, are parents. We understand and have lived the trials and tribulations of raising children. We are human and we fall victim to life’s lunacies. That said, we don’t kick our dog and we certainly don’t assault our children.
It should be that simple. Sadly, in your case, it isn’t.
Your momma, through her fierce and futile actions, continues to teach you and all who watch, a heinous lesson. “The one in power does as they see fit” should have no place in humanity. This serves only to instill aggression, anger and fear, while imparting not one message worth remembering. Sweet boy, your momma continues to fail you miserably. For that I am so sorry. You deserve far better!
The end to my part of this story is that I and the other family who watched you being senselessly beaten, called 911. We shared your mom’s license plate with the police, who took this matter very seriously. They claimed they will be in contact with the law enforcement in your neighboring state. I fervently hope child protection will pay a visit to your home and do something, ANYTHING, to save you from this unfair, cruel existence.
I pray that your end to this story is whatever it will take to stop your abuse. Perhaps our reporting this could be a the wake-up call that will force your momma to see the damage she is doing. Or maybe this isn’t the first time she’s been reported, and you will be removed to live in a safe and loving home. Maybe your momma was abused; this could easily explain why she resorts to her mistreatment of you.
My abuse was emotional; I survived and through years of therapy, eradicated any chance of repeating the cycle of abuse onto my own 5 children. Remember this; you can do the same! You can become the bird with a healed broken wing, soaring even higher than those who never knew such adversity. You see, at your tender age, your soul has been sandpapered. With that can come wisdom.
I wish you well. I wish you all the small joys that fill your days with happy and kind moments. I wish you the freedom from fear and aggression, and the celebration of all you were meant to be and should be. More than anything, I will continue to hug you in my dreams- and pray that your nightmares are replaced by dreams. Dreams of a future where you matter just because you are.