After the socially distant impromptu get-together at Seth’s, the week was difficult. One sister-in-law brought up Tom’s name, and she did so after we’d had friction over her bringing him up to me over a year ago.
It isn’t asking a lot that these people called ‘family’ not discuss him. My attendance is once yearly or less. But she did as if my presence didn’t matter at all. That caused more than a week of feeling pierced in my core away from myself– numb.
Eventually tears came, then came more. Family, real family, would not bring up the name of a person who abused me so horribly then spent the rest of my life making me pay for it with disparaging remarks and put-downs around others. His damaging treatment all the years after his crime caused the greatest harm.
And no one bothers to respect that buddying up with my abuser, acting like nothing ever happened, wounds as much as the original attack.
What at first seemed like a happy gathering for the first time in a long time, caused deep pain. Forgetting how interactions of any kind in the hope for authentic acknowledgment always has painful repercussions. These people called family are dangerous… all of them.