Every year on March 5, my family has a commemoration day to celebrate how far we have come since my dad was taken away. This year marked the 6 year anniversary! When people hear about my family's commemoration day they think its so weird until they hear why we do it. This year has been harder than usual. For weeks leading up to the day I have had numerous nightmares and flashbacks. I don't know if it's because I'm not home or because of all the change that has happened this year or what. I kept on thinking why this had to happen and having various emotions towards my dad. On a daily basis I want to know how he is doing in prison and I have so many questions that will never be answered. But I can't let that stop me from living my life. I have to force myself to think beyond everything that has happened and think beyond the flashbacks and memories no matter how hard it becomes.
I remember the night I told like it was yesterday. March 4, 2010; I was crying in my room on the phone with a friend talking about my dad. She told me that if I didn't tell, she would. I got so scared...my dad always told me that if I told, he would kill me. But at the same time, I was so tired of getting raped everyday and getting in trouble for things that was far out of my control. I was so tired of getting beat for no reason and always getting blamed for everything. My mom walked in while I was on the phone and asked why I was crying. I hung up the phone and was so done with everything and at that point, I didn't care if my dad killed me or not...I was numb. I just kept telling my mom, "he's going to be mad." My mom was confused and asked different questions to all I said "no" until she asked me if anyone touched me. All of a sudden the words came through my tears, "dad has been raping me". I continued to cry and my mom was in shock and all she said was "what?" I repeated myself and she hugged me and tried to console me. All of a sudden my dad came in with a knife (he was doing the dishes at the time) and I thought this was it...my dad was going to kill me right then and there. I freaked out and crawled under my bed and my dad left to go put the knife down and came back in my room.
Once my dad came back, my mom dad and I spent hours arguing back and forth about what happened. My mom took my dad into my brother's room and was talking to him asking him if he really raped and abused me. My dad of course said no and when they came back into my room, my mom said, "I don't know who to believe right now". At that time I knew I had to protect my brother and sister. Also, if my dad didn't kill me and my mom didn't believe me, I knew that everything would just get worse from here on out. I do not know where the strength came from in order for me to stand up to my dad but all of a sudden I got this burst of courage. I started yelling at my dad telling him how he had to tell the truth and stop lying. How he had to grow a pair of balls and be a real man, etc. All of a sudden, my dad dropped his head in his hands and started crying. That was the first time I've ever seen my dad cry. All my dad kept on saying was "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry". I didn't know whether to believe him or not. I was so confused because how could my dad hurt me for so many years and all of a sudden be sorry? My mom tells me that he is just sorry because he got caught. After he admitted to the rape and abuse, my mom was shocked and didn't know what to do. It was about 2 or 3am now and my mom took my sister and I in her room and my brother slept on the couch with my dad. My mom didn't sleep at all that night because she was up worrying and making sure we were okay.
The next day, March 5, 2010, my dad woke up and took all of the sheets in the house and put them in the wash so there wouldn't be any evidence of rape. We all went to my mom's work so my dad and mom could talk to the pastor there on what to do next. The whole time my dad said that he could just get counseling and that my mom and him could just work through everything. However, because my mom would be held responsible if she knew about the abuse and didn't say anything, she could get in a lot of trouble. To make it easier on my mom, her boss at the time called it in to the police and my mom, dad, brother, sister, and I all went home. On the way home I sent my mom a text message saying, "Is dad going to jail?" My mom replied with "yes". At that very moment, a huge relief came over me. I felt free and that I was finally able to get away from my dad and all of the abuse. We made it back to the house and went for a family walk--which was just so my mom and dad could talk about everything.
After we got back from the walk, my dad sat my brother, sister, and I down and explained that he did a bad thing and he had to go away for a little while. He then went to my brother and told him that he had to be the man of the house now and how he had to protect us. He went to my sister and told her that he'll be back and to stay strong. When my dad made it to me, he just asked if he could have a hug. Without thinking I said yes...he gave me a hug and just said "I'm so sorry"...
My dad then walked to the laundry room and was holding something behind his back. My mom went over to him and kept telling him to give her whatever he had behind his back. Things were getting scary so my brother took all of the knives and hid them in my mom and dads bathroom. Once my mom finally got control and got my dad to give her what he was hiding behind his back--which was a gun, he was going to go outside and shoot himself. My dad then went to the couch and sat down with his head in his hands and started weeping. He then said bye one last time and then walked out the door...that was the last time I saw my dad.
My dad went and turned himself in. About an hour later we got a call from the police telling us that my dad made it and that they were going to be out to our house soon. Once the detectives got to our house, they started asking questions and they brought me into each room of the house and asked if my dad did stuff to me in that particular room. Once they got to my mom and dad's room, they asked me where the sheets went. Without thinking anything of it, I told them that my dad washed everything this morning. The detectives said, "Of course he did." Now, I realize what my dad did in trying to cover things up. My dad's parents came to our house and after everything with the detectives got over with, we went to taco bell and my grandparents and my moms old boss. The next couple days, we stayed at my grandparents house. I did not find out until my senior year of high school that my dad did stuff to my siblings. That broke my heart because here I am thinking that I protected them. My brother and I have always been close...now our relationship is even stronger.
Now, we have no contact with my dad's parents--which I will explain in another post sometime. The other day I was face-timing my brother and he told me that the day my dad left, my dad said that once he gets out, he will find me and kill me. I don't know if my dad was just angry or if he really meant it because that wasn't the first time he said he'd kill me. Anyway, I don't have to worry about that for a while. Although my dad was charged with four life sentences, he only got 25 years because he took the plea bargain. I don't see how that's fair but he will get judged ultimately by God so that is what I have to keep holding onto. Ever since I told about my dad, each year my family started having a commemoration day to honor how far our family has come. One of the many counselors I went to see gave me the idea. Commemorate means to honor. Each year we do something different. One year we went to the shooting range, one year we went to the movies. Usually we go to dinner or something. This year I drove down from college for the weekend and we went to Outback and dressed up. When we were there, my mom decided to tell us a story about a fish I caught when I was little and how it died the same day and so I had a funeral for it. While she was telling the story, she said Jody--my dad's name--instead of "dad". This bothered me a little bit because he's still my dad and all so I asked her why she said Jody. Before my mom could even answer, my brother quickly said "because that's his name" and my brother and I started arguing about how dad is still our dad but my brother hates my dad so he wants nothing to do with him. Throughout the disagreements, we still had a great time and made great memories.
Yes, some days are harder than others. I just have to keep reminding myself that I'm not the broken girl anymore. I have some pretty great friends and family that help me along the way. Even friends that I met this year at college have already been there for me through so much. They've become family. I have been playing the song Broken Girl by Matthew West a lot these past couple weeks as a reminder of who I am and to remind me of how far I have truly come. I look back on the night that I told and realize that the burst of courage I felt when standing up to my dad was all from God. He was always watching out for me. Sometime's that is hard for me to grasp because I think, "If God was always watching out for me, why would he let me go through everything I went through?" All I know, is that God has a plan and does amazing work at turning something that's broken into something beautiful.
