He was a huge football coach.
He beat her.
I was little and I remember.
The cut on her eyebrow where he had smashed her face into the medicine cabinet.
The imprint on the wall. Little circles making up the circumference of a pot made of bamboo shoots. It had been thrown against the wall… plant, soil, and pot.
The three inch thick coffee table that split in two as his iron fist came down upon it.
The gun he put to her head.
The day he took my baby brother. The high speed chase by the police. Being parked on the side of Deuce of Clubs in Show Low and the relief I felt as the precious bundle was given back to us.
My older brother, besides my mom, took the brunt of the abuse and beating. We lived in a house in Mesa. I can still see the front of the house. The police came. I stood there as the policemen walked by. They went into the bedroom with the double doors. My brother was waiting. The doors closed. My brother had to pull down his pants and show the policemen the bruising.
I was 4 years old… my brother was 6.
As a teenager, I remember being at the grocery store. There was a sales display with a stuffed grizzly bear towering over me with a snarl on it’s face and claws out ready to strike,
“That reminds me of Bruce.”
Then I felt bad for talking bad about my baby brother’s dad.
*****
If you have kids and you’re in an abusive relationship, it does affect them. They aren’t too young to remember. It will change who they are. If you’re not capable of leaving the relationship, please at least find a safe place for your children. There are resources and support. You don’t have to stay, you have a choice. Please reach out for help. The National Domestic Violence Hotline. 1-800-799-7233