-A Journey Of Acceptance
Silence does not always mean acceptance-Life Diariz
Spending time with Eric was everything to me. When I say everything, I mean everything. Getting to know another sibling was exciting. Especially since that sibling was a boy. I grew up most of my childhood living with my sisters but, I never lived in a household with my brother. It was so interesting to me that he grew up in a totally different household but, he was still so much like us. He had many of the same mannerisms and was just as goofy and sensitive as his sisters. But, there was one sister that he had a little more in common with than the others. Me.
After spending several hours talking about our lives and how we grew up, we quickly realized that we both shared a dark past full of physical, verbal and mental abuse courtesy of a Step Parent. The only difference was that I was able to escape whereas this was still his reality. I listened as he told me horrible stories of beat downs passed out by his Step-Dad. No, not the normal ass whooping you get for misbehaving. I’m talking about, beat you down for breathing too loud type of abuse. He also expressed the verbal put-downs and mental games that he Step-Dad would use to make him believe that his father didn’t want or love him. Eric said this all with a straight face, no tears and bravery in his eyes.
I knew his pain all too well. I had experienced almost the exact same thing with Spring. There is something about this kind of pain that when it becomes a norm for you, it dries up your tears. So, when I told my story to him I also did so with a straight face, no tears, and sadness in my eyes. No sadness for me but, an overwhelming sadness for him. He seemed relieved to tell someone. It seemed like it lifted a weight from his little 13-year-old mind. We continued our evening with laughs, taking and taking pictures. I continued to smile, laugh and enjoy his company but, all along I had started plotting on a way to save my brother. I just had to help him, after all, that’s what big sisters were for right? I am my brother’s keeper.
When it was time for him to leave, I was so scared for him. They weren’t even all the way in the car before I cried out for Grandma Phy. She knew of all the things I had gone through with my Step Mother and she rescued me. Surely, she could do the same for Eric. I told her everything he told me and this time I had plenty of tears to flow.
“Grandma we got to help him! Can’t you just make him come live with us?”, I asked.
“You can’t just go around taking folks kids. But, I tell you what, that M-F’er won’t get away with this shit!” she exclaimed.
I was hype! Grandma was going to get that M-Fer! Grandma Phy went straight to the phone and called our Dad. I personally didn’t think that would do any good. For one, he was all the way in California and we were in Indiana. Second, from what I could tell from what my brother said, Dad didn’t really check up on Eric like that or else he would’ve known what was going on. This was not the reaction from Grandma Phy that I was hoping for, so I was completely disappointed. That was until I spoke to Eric again. It had been maybe a few weeks later. Eric told me that things were actually getting better for him at home. Neither one of us knew why though.
It wasn’t until years later that we found out that after Grandma Phy called our Dad, he and my uncles made an unannounced trip to my brother’s city that lasted one day. What happened? I don’t know but, whatever happened rescued my brother from the abuse. For that, I am grateful.