day of infamy

twenty-eight years ago this evening, just as the sun began to set, i walked down the aisle in a little lutheran church in a place called secane, pennsylvania and pledged myself in marriage to my first husband.

when i look back, and remember the child that i was, i'm not sure if i want to smack me or hug me. what i would really like to do is throw myself in front of me and plead: no, no, a thousand times no.

but i dont think i would've listened. i didn't know that i should've listened to the little Voice that said, don't go - when my ex asked me out. i didn't know that there are people in the world who can only express their deepest emotions with their fists. i didn't know there are sons who hit their mothers. i didn't know there are mothers who violate their sons. i didn't understand the depths of primal rage, primal pain.

i do now.

my own personal hades was mostly defined by what is not there. my walk down the aisle was just the first step into the first tier of a hell i had no ability to imagine. i once was blind, but now i see.

i see so well in fact, that i understand how necessary those experiences are to the person i am now. i understand that if i suffered, ray is still suffering. i walked through the fire of his hell and escaped. he's still there. i don't believe he will leave it in this lifetime.

and so this evening, as the sun sets, i raise my coffee cup and put down my paint brush and i will whisper a prayer ..both for the lesson and the teacher.