Seared into my memory are the hard, blunt sounds of knuckles colliding with my mother’s face and torso. I remember the sight of ruptured blood vessels in her eyes. I recall my mom’s piercing screams. I remember rounding the corner to the room where she was being assaulted. She was on the floor, lying on her back, with her hands extended upward trying to shield her face from the onslaught of punches from the assailant standing over her. I was 12-years-old.
I felt confused, betrayed, and frightened. As the man that was attacking my mother recoiled to unleash another blow, I summoned the nerve to jump onto his back somehow. The assault ended suddenly, which was not my doing. I could not have stopped this man. He was a giant. He was possessed. He was my father.
Afterward, my mother stood to her feet, gathered herself, and called the police. It was as if she had refused to relinquish her dignity. My father sat in the corner of the room and stared off into nothingness. I imagine that he was remorseful even though I would later learn that this incident was one of several. Today, my father is an entirely different person. He is even-tempered and soft-spoken. It is difficult for me to reconcile the man I know today with the man that abused my mother. My parents are no longer together. I would like to think that they are both decent people that ultimately were unable to maintain a healthy partnership.
I do not fully understand the extent to which being exposed to domestic violence has shaped my personality, but there are times when feelings of anger and bitterness well up inside me. It is in those moments that I look back on what can happen when a man loses control of himself. As a father, my worst fear is modeling a dysfunctional, hostile relationship in front of my children. I would hate for such an awful aspect of my childhood to reappear in their lives. Sharing my story is cathartic. It also serves as a reminder of how influential the relationship between parents can be to their children. If you are a parent, then perhaps you will think about how the actions of your parents have impacted you, and how your actions might affect your child’s development. After all, when ignored, history has a peculiar way of repeating itself.
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“History, with all her volumes vast, hath but one page” —Lord Byron
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