I am beginning to wonder if this up-front pain of the abuse our family has taken from my parents is ever going to end. Emily is having such a terrible time with it now: she’s dealing with it in therapy and it’s bringing it out to the surface and all the hurt and anguish she’s been stuffing for the past year and a half is pouring out of her-wave after wave. It’s just fresh screaming torture for me, seeing and feeling her so hurt, knowing there’s only so much I can do beyond telling her over and over again how much I love her, how none of this is her fault. Not what he did, not how her Nana has rejected us all to keep her status secure, the new rejection of my brother under the excuse that we’ve upset his mother so much. Dear Lord. How do you explain to a girl why anyone would worry about an old woman’s feelings who is protecting a pervert and never stops to ask how the survivor of the abuse is doing? She feels SO unloved by that family. All I can do is share that with her, because of course, all of us do here. We’re all abandoned. We’ve all been told we’re not the side to pick. But she was the one who was hurt, and I just want to go and mow them all down and burn their bodies when I think of her crying over their rejection of her.
All I can do is cry with her, cry alone, and promise her her Momma would never, will never stop loving her for anyone, any thing, any reason. And hope that those people haven’t destroyed her trust and faith so deeply that she believes me.