regrets
I was thinking today back about 8 years ago, when I was still with my ex. He had a cousin who had a son which she didn't want and basically her parents were raising the boy. Aunt Tootsie and Uncle Craig. They were pretty much rednecks, and Craig drank a lot and was a bastard with a mean streak. It seemed the child was unwanted and we heard stories which amounted to what I thought was borderline abuse. I wanted to save him from that environment so badly that I offered to adopt him (me, a 22 yr old mother of 2, still in college!) Boy was I naive, thinking I could afford and/or handle it, but I just figured it was the right thing to do and was willing to make any sacrifices necessary to protect a young innocent helpless child from the terror he must feel, completely at the mercy of the giants looming around him. Well, they weren't eager to give him up, god knows why, and I didn't have the mettle or sophistication to know what else to do about it.
Eventually the police intervened... But only after it was too late.
Several years later it came out that the abuse was worse then we thought, both physical and sexual in nature, and twisted his little mind into a perverse mess which resulted in some animal mutilations among other unspeakable acts, and landed him a permanent spot in a mental institution, and thankfully jail sentences for Craig and Tootsie. Usually I think back about that now and then and feel the weight of responsibility for not trying to do more, I just didn't know how bad it was or what I could do. I don't even spank my kids so any kind of violence against children beyond a few smacks to their rear ends seems excessive to me, but not to most of America. Sometimes I think if I tried harder I could have rescued him, saved his life. Today I was thinking-- thank god it didn't work out, what a mess it would have been when I split up with my ex, and I was ashamed. I don't really blame myself for what happened to him, after all I simply thought that they were uncaring and unwilling caretakers and not the monsters they turned out to be, but I do think I will carry it with me forever.
posted by Evil Genius @ 9:45 PM
2 comments
2 Comments:
I remember in high school when you told me your friend was a drug dealer. For a long time I felt bad that I didn't call the police. I still do actually. Or that friend from high school -- remember Matt Prince? -- told me that someone he knew was electrocuting cats for fun, and abusing his girlfriend. I tried to get Matt to do something, but of course he wouldn't. Why didn't I?
Today I called the ASPCA to report some animal abuse, and the person argued with me, like I was annoying her by calling. Damn. Now I have to go get the address, and then she'll ask her supervisor if they even care.
Anyway, this post is a message. People will read it, they will learn from your experience, hopefully.
I had a similar (though somewhat less tragic) experience. My youngest ex-brother-in-law and his wife split when their daughter was under 2. They tried to share custody, but both were drug addicted and her welfare was an after thought to them. Several of us in the family talked of adopting the child, but no one wanted to have to deal with the father. (He had rage issues and had already threatened several people in the family.) We kept trying to get Child Protective Services involved and they did a few things, but wouldn't remove the child from either home permanently until she was 8 years old. She is the only child I know who failed kindergarten. She has had nightmares for years. It's unlikely she will ever fully recover from the neglect she endured over that period. Sad that CPS allowed that to go on as long as they did.
I, too, often feel I should have done more for that child. Mothers...good mothers...their hearts go out to children...all children.
It's sad that your ex's cousin's son ended up where he is. I'm sure you will not forget. But, you can't beat yourself up over it either. We all live and learn. And you were very, very young.
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