Eight
Some of you may know a few bits about my past. Some dark tidbits, if I do say so myself. Tomorrow, October 1st, is the 8th anniversary of that event.
Eight years ago my life changed when the unthinkable occurred. Could I have possibly been partially to blame? I suppose, but I think there is really only one person responsible for those events. What transpired that night is something that nobody should ever have to go through. I was hurt - both mentally and physically. Hurt in a way that is hard to fathom unless you've been there. Hurt in a way that's hard to forget.
I carry those scars with me everywhere I go. They've become part of me. They've made me skeptical of others and caused anxiety. I can say, however, that they've made me stronger.
I've developed deeper relationships because of this. I've become more aware. I'm much more sympathetic. Sometimes I wonder if this is part of why I'm such an animal lover - they are so much more trustworthy than humans. I've been forced to look outside of the box and become a better person. I'm also much more appreciative.
While I wish that I could go back in time and erase this, I truly believe that "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
Every year I go through this. But this year is different...
After this happened, my family chose to tell select few people about it. One person was "Uncle Chuck." See, Uncle Chuck isn't my real uncle. He's a good family friend that's known me since birth. He's somebody we care about deeply and consider family.
When Uncle Chuck found out, he was set on killing the person that hurt me. Maybe killing is a strong word, but I distinctly remember him muttering, "Imma fucking kill 'em." It's a good thing we waited to tell him, As I'm pretty certain he would have gotten his baseball bat out and gone after that person. God love him.
Why do I talk about Uncle Chuck? Uncle Chuck passed away yesterday. Things won't be the same without him. Daddy went to lunch with him at least once a week. Uncle Chuck was one of his closest friends. I worry about my Daddy. On Wednesday, Uncle Chuck will be laid to rest. While we have many fond memories and what we like to call "Chuck-isms," that is one of my favorites. Yes, a painful event surrounded it, but that was the kind of guy Chuck was. A wonderful guy with a heart of gold. A man who cared deeply about those close to him. He was feisty, and he didn't hold anything back. I'm thankful to have had him in my life, and in a strange twist, I'm thankful for that horrid night eight years ago. He was an excellent example of a good friend.
We miss you, Chuck. Please watch out for Daddy's "dots."
Thanks for being you!
Sincerely,
Di
Eight years ago my life changed when the unthinkable occurred. Could I have possibly been partially to blame? I suppose, but I think there is really only one person responsible for those events. What transpired that night is something that nobody should ever have to go through. I was hurt - both mentally and physically. Hurt in a way that is hard to fathom unless you've been there. Hurt in a way that's hard to forget.
I carry those scars with me everywhere I go. They've become part of me. They've made me skeptical of others and caused anxiety. I can say, however, that they've made me stronger.
I've developed deeper relationships because of this. I've become more aware. I'm much more sympathetic. Sometimes I wonder if this is part of why I'm such an animal lover - they are so much more trustworthy than humans. I've been forced to look outside of the box and become a better person. I'm also much more appreciative.
While I wish that I could go back in time and erase this, I truly believe that "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
Every year I go through this. But this year is different...
After this happened, my family chose to tell select few people about it. One person was "Uncle Chuck." See, Uncle Chuck isn't my real uncle. He's a good family friend that's known me since birth. He's somebody we care about deeply and consider family.
When Uncle Chuck found out, he was set on killing the person that hurt me. Maybe killing is a strong word, but I distinctly remember him muttering, "Imma fucking kill 'em." It's a good thing we waited to tell him, As I'm pretty certain he would have gotten his baseball bat out and gone after that person. God love him.
Why do I talk about Uncle Chuck? Uncle Chuck passed away yesterday. Things won't be the same without him. Daddy went to lunch with him at least once a week. Uncle Chuck was one of his closest friends. I worry about my Daddy. On Wednesday, Uncle Chuck will be laid to rest. While we have many fond memories and what we like to call "Chuck-isms," that is one of my favorites. Yes, a painful event surrounded it, but that was the kind of guy Chuck was. A wonderful guy with a heart of gold. A man who cared deeply about those close to him. He was feisty, and he didn't hold anything back. I'm thankful to have had him in my life, and in a strange twist, I'm thankful for that horrid night eight years ago. He was an excellent example of a good friend.
We miss you, Chuck. Please watch out for Daddy's "dots."
Thanks for being you!
Sincerely,
Di
Comments
Post a Comment