• Maybe someday…

    by  • February 27, 2012 • * Safe for Work *, Family Stuff • 0 Comments

    Every once in a while I will think back on that day. A lot of things come to mind. I remember My mom threatening me with, “Jonathan, if I find out you know where your sister is and you didn’t tell me you will be in serious trouble.” I remember my sense of worry that my sister wasn’t home and confusion as to where she could be. The jarring awakening at 3 am by my dad, “Son, put some clothes on. We got to go pick up your sister.” The drowsy car ride there and the thoughts of “why do I have to come?” The startling realization that we were pulling into a police station in a different county. I remember my mom seeing my face and reassuring me that Kathryn, my sister, was not in trouble. I remember the other family coming in with a representative from Grumpy’s Bail Bonds, whose ads I had seen on TV and remembered because they featured a busty blonde jumping up and down in a low-cut blouse saying “When you ring, We SPRING!” I remember being led into an interrogation room and being introduced to 2 child services workers. I remember them asking questions, but I don’t remember what. I remember driving home with my sister. I remember waiting in the car with her and my mom outside our driveway as our dad packed his things and left the house. I remember not bringing up my dad around my sister for 2 years after that night, and I remember not feeling comfortable whenever someone else brought him up around her. I remember her not seeming to care. But there are 2 things I remember most. I remember waiting for them to let my sister go and my dad looking at me and saying, “You know why we are here? Apparently one of Kathryn’s so-called ‘friends’ called the police and said I was sexually abusing her.” I know he said other things but that is all I remember. And I remember wondering, “Well, did you?” My dad had to leave that night, he couldn’t talk to us for a week, my sister never talked to him again and it took years for her to even mention him to me. There were plenty of reasons to doubt that anything happened and the idea of it seemed ludicrous. Still, I never got a straight “Nothing happened” from anyone involved and everyone else pretty much got over it. But they knew what did or didn’t happen. I didn’t. So instead of answers and closure, I have my memories and questions. They say time heals all wounds. I’m not sure if this one will ever fully heal, but maybe someday…

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