Sick People

I just finished reading Finding Me, by Michelle Knight. She was one of the three women held captive for 11 years by the psychopath Ariel Castro. The things she wrote in this book are horrifying. She had a hard life full of neglect, abuse and molestation before she was a teenager. She'd been homeless, a drug runner and a teen mom before she was abducted at age 21. Aside from the rapes, forced abortions, sickness, and starvation she endured at 2207 Seymour Avenue, one other misfortune stuck out to me. When her son was just two and a half years old, one of her mother's boyfriends who was staying at her house at the time broke her son's knee. At the hospital she told the staff that he'd fallen at a park, but a family member called in and told them what really happened. The guy also confessed. Her son was taken away from her, and she never saw him again. However, it was his memory and her love for him, that kept her alive. His name is Joey, and he was adopted by a family when he was four.

A few months ago, I had the honor of sitting just a few seats to the left of both Tamir Rice's and Trayvon Martin's mothers. At the time my own son, was in PICU recovering from brain surgery. Tamir Rice was a twelve year old boy who was murdered by the police for having a toy gun at a park in Cleveland, Ohio. Trayvon Martin was a seventeen year old boy who was murdered by a man in Florida because he looked suspicious while walking through a residential community wearing a hoodie; both boys were black. 

Hearing other people's stories about their lives and the lives of their children doesn't take away from the pain, anger, confusion and depression I'm coping with in regards to my son and his dealings with this cancerous brain tumor. Yet, it does make me grateful. I'm grateful that I can see him, and hug him, and laugh with him everyday. I'm grateful for being by his side through it all. I'm grateful for his miraculous healing time and time again. And I'm grateful for the strength I'm gaining while going through this whole process. 

My son is just a little older than Joey was when he was taken away from Michelle. I often wonder how life for my son will be at twelve, then seventeen. I always think of how I'm going to protect my son. Protect him from molestation, pedifouls, and kidnappers. I think about how different life for me and others would have been if we hadn't been inappropriately touched at a young age. I pray to God every night that He continues to cover my son from those kinds of terrible and traumatizing things. One thing is for sure, I'll never leave him alone around any guys I'm dating now or in the future. Unfortunately, he won't be attending sleep overs or overnight trips unless I'm right there with him. And sadly, sometimes it's family members who are the ones doing the touching, so there are only a select few family members he'll be with for long amounts of time. It's hard to trust anyone, and I'd rather be safe than sorry. I've already taught him his body parts, and he is extremely articulate for his age, so I believe that if someone was touching his penis or forcing him to perform other inappropriate acts, he'd tell his Mommy.

The truth of the matter is, I can't protect him 24/7. Things happen all the time. Therefore, I must do my best to teach him to be safe, teach him to protect himself, and keep him in safe environments. There's no telling what life has in store for us.

Michelle Knight wrote, "We all go through hard things. We might wish we didn't, but we do. Even if I don't understand my pain, I've got to turn it into some kind of purpose."

With that said. See you in Vegas.

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