eulogy to my (your) abuser, a

To my sorry abuser,

I am sorry for you.  There, I finally said it.  You were always too proud to hear it.  But God, it feels good to let that out!

I wonder, did you know?  Could you see that you had lost two of your children?  That you were losing the third?  If you still “had” her.  She had a transactional relationship with you; you did something for her, she’d give you a couple of days.  You promised to get her something, she’d come to see you.  I think she knew that she wasn’t always going to get that promise fulfilled, but, hey, if she had nothing better to do that day, why not?

You didn’t want my help.  Which is weird to me, because what I wanted to do was help you get close to your children.  Don’t all mothers want that?  Maybe you thought what you had with them was as good as it got.  All the others moms around you had similar relationships with their children.  Why believe it could be any different?

I wish we could have spoken before it was too late.  I wish I could have expressed my frustrations.

I don’t know.

Did you know that your kids had a plan in case you died?  Like, they actually planned for it.  One time your middle child said, jokingly, I hope, “Maybe mom died in a car crash.”  The littlest immediately responded, “If she’s dead, can I stop taking these stupid pills?”  They talked about you that way all the time.

You exhaust me.  Like everyone else in your life.  You drain people.

I’m glad you’re gone.  But I’m sorry it ended this way.


…..of course she’s not dead yet.  But if she were, this is what I would say:

“I am glad you are at peace.  I hope you found some measure of happiness.  Above all, I hope, wherever you are now, that you are finally learning how to love.”

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