Chapter 24
Everything was perfect for about four months. As I knew it would be. The Honeymoon Period they call it. It fooled Garen and the older boys. They kept going on and on about how much easier it was than they thought it would be. I kept warning them that a reckoning was coming that was going to shock us all and they kept dismissing me.
But those first few months WERE beautiful. The very first night Timos explored his new bedroom, full of clothes just for him, toys just for him, a library of books just for him. He was enchanted and he insisted on sleeping in there all by himself. I thought for sure he’d sleep with us for a while. But no, Mr. Independent wanted to stake his claim to his bedroom from day one.
This four-year-old never called out to us in the middle of the night. Whatever demons he was fighting he fought alone in the dark and the quiet.
And then one day he was done. He said he was ready to go Home. I explained to him that this was his home now, but clearly, I was wrong, because he looked at me, said Good-bye and walked out the door.
Bringing him back inside the first time was easy. It got progressively harder to do. And one day the damn blessedly broke. Timos began to scream and throw things around trying to break them. Afraid he was going to hurt himself I sat on the floor and held him in my arms, rocking him and stroking his head. That is the moment I began to fight his demons with him.
He screamed and shrieked and bit me with all his strength. He hit me. He kicked me. He scratched me. And I held him, with bloody arms, telling him how much I loved him. That I was his Mommy, and I would never leave him.
Keegan had moved back to the dorms by now. But Garen and Zade stood by watching in horror, with no idea what to do. Garen’s first instinct was to give a punishment. I explained to him that there was no way we could punish Timos because this wasn’t bad behavior. This was a tiny child who had literally lost everything he had ever known. His home, his friends, his language, everything. He was mad and he was fighting.
My heart was overjoyed. I didn’t want him to accept all we had to give without so much as a look backwards. I didn’t want him to swallow his fear and his anger. I wanted him to trust us enough to grieve.
That this all happened during the summer meant I had to make a conscious choice to not be embarrassed by what was going on in our home. I refused to wear long sleeves and jeans and believe me when I tell you I looked battered. I sported black eyes from head butts, scabbed bite mark circles all up and down both arms, bruises on my legs from being beaten on with tiny fists and feet. And I would meet the eyes of the curious and smile. Somehow my smile always seemed to calm people’s fears. I think they could see how absolutely okay I was. How happy I was. Because I was winning.
Every time we had an “episode” I was proving to my youngest son that I wasn’t going anywhere. I was proving to my youngest son that his time of being abandoned was over. I was proving to my youngest son that he was worth loving. He was making me pay the price for every woman who had betrayed him and hurt him, and it was as nothing to me to pay it. Because I was winning!
Soon the episodes became shorter and shorter, until one day Timos came to sit on my lap. “I’m sorry I hurt you Mommy.” He hopped down and began to walk away, but he stopped, turned back to me, and said, “I love you Mommy.” I never wore another bruise from my youngest son again.
I don’t have many memories of Garen during this time. I didn’t know our business had taken quite a hit while we were gone, and beyond that, Garen had fallen into a deep depression that started when he could not face having left his wife and youngest son in a dangerous situation. Not that we had a choice. But as a man he just couldn’t handle having done it. So, he checked out emotionally and was no longer standing beside me.
This caused friction between us, which deepened his depression and that exacerbated the financial and staffing problems with the business. Garen wasn’t on top of his game and things spiraled quickly.
My husband became resentful and angry with me, secretly blaming me for everything going on that I didn’t know about. And that was before the most devastating blow we have ever known as parents. Afterwards, his resentment bloomed into outright hate. I was only too happy to return that hate right back to him. At a time when we should have been comforting one another and supporting each other we literally would go weeks without saying a kind word to one another. Just angry, bitter words. We would say how much we hated each other. Say we wanted a divorce. Say there was never a scenario where we would love one another again. This would go on for years.
How I regret having to write that. Knowing what I’m about to tell you, my heart hurts so much for Garen and I.
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