4. Early Days Yet
Whilst we had a major family event coming up very soon, my parents had been asked not to come over - this was so hard to do. They are my parents, but my children are also very important to me and they are the ones I live with on a daily basis. I had to protect them and let them know that I believed them. I still didn’t know the specifics of what had taken place and had asked my dad in a letter if he could put any light on it, but he told me that he didn’t know. However, he and mum agreed it was best they didn’t come over. I knew enough to know that the fear one of our daughters demonstrated was very real and I was also in fear - of what might be said to my father in front of company, visitors, or at the family event. I became a nervous wreck and for the first time in my life, was experiencing what I imagine to be close to a nervous breakdown and extreme depression. I’m normally a happy, optimistic, personality - this new person in me was a total stranger and I didn’t know how to deal with her.
A few nights before the family event my husband took one of his daughters out to chat to her about the events of 12 years past. She confirmed our worst fears - that she had been sexually abused by my father. She gave a description of what took place in a detached manner. She explained she’d dealt with it and it was in the past. Her realisation that what took place was wrong came to her whilst doing sex education classes at high school about 3 years later but she never felt she could tell us because it was my father. She also confirmed that other daughters had been involved - or at least she was pretty sure that was the case because of things they’d said to her and the fact that they hadn’t wanted to be near their grandfather whilst in their teens.
My heart plummeted and I fell into a further state of depression. The day before the family event, I took out my own daughter on a drive – the one that the other girls said had been involved – and asked her if anything had ever happened many years ago. She just sat there, tears streaming down her face and told me of memories she had. A description which matched that of her step-sister and I told her she didn’t need to tell me anymore if she didn’t wish to. I knew the girls hadn’t discussed the matter amongst themselves – it’s not really a topic you talk about or compare notes on, is it?
We had to wait for the family event to pass before we could do much else. Each day dragged by and my mind was filled with the letter I knew I had to write to my mother, once I had confirmed what really took place. It was trying to stay normal for visitors, family and friends, when all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry my heart out, and go to sleep just to get away from it all. The time couldn’t pass quick enough for me.
With a heavy heart I wrote a long letter to my mother, outlining the information we’d been given. My husband and I did research on the web and it soon became obvious that there was very little available to help parents of the victims – lots on how to help the children, what signs to look for, who to report it to, but very little on what to expect in the way of your own feelings, responses, and who you could go to for help in dealing with it. This is why I’m writing this – partly as self-therapy as writing helps me get it out of my system, but also I’m hoping this journal will help other parents who have to travel this path through no choice of their own. What parent would wish this upon their child? And how do you cope with the knowledge that your own father is this monster and not the loving person you thought he was?
If you are a parent who has been through this, I encourage you to please add comment to this blog, give us web references of places you know we could link to, that would help, and share with us your experiences, if you can. You don’t have to identify yourself or your children, feel free to use a fake name and set up an email address that won’t identify yourself if you need to. Just please feel you can share here to help others.