This season, if it stays cool enough, is one of the sweetest ones in the year this far south in California. I know everyone on the east coast and in the northern tier of states is looking forward to it as well.
Now the knife...hehe sorry!
Easter is always my favorite holiday, and I'm looking forward to it. My mother always made me a new dress for Easter when I was very small. It's one of the happiest memories of mine from childhood, which ended about when I was 7 or 8. My childhood was over by then.
I never thought about it until recently, but childhood is quite often a victim of brutality. In my case, I realized that something was terribly wrong with one of my parental units by that age, and it wasn't anything I did or didn't do; it was my Psycho Dad.
You also know that there's not a whole heck of a lot you can do about it but just stay out of the way, be happy in school if it's possible, and try to become more invisible if it's not. In some convergence of terror, by the time I was 9 years old I had a fifth grade teacher who made me the class goat, and with all that was happening in this freak show stuff going on at school and at home, I grew up overnight.
There is sometimes help, Thanks to God, in the form of kind people, that is if they get the time to act. There were a few kind people who took me into their hearts. So, I guess I think of them at Easter. Having had the blessing of Kind people, like Jesus, who cared enough to help a little kid, my life was spared even more trauma. Color me Grateful, for Easter, for many reasons.
You had a dad like mine! After being backhanded and toppled from my chair at the lunch table, for no good reason, I swore then and there that I didn't love him anymore. And I never did.
ReplyDeleteI am so glad to be older now, and know good men that are good fathers and grandfathers, but it sure was hard when I was younger.
Oh wow, that sounds so darn familiar. I'm so sorry you had such a father. The last time I was hit I was 16 and Psycho almost dislocated my hearing on one side. It was so completely unexpected - it blindsided me. I was talking to my Uncle and all of a sudden... Whammo, the Psycho hit me. My Uncle, his brother, was appalled.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, there are good men and absolute monsters. It's nice to find out that the obsessive/possessive criminal jerk you were stuck with as a child was not a normal father. I call him the paternal unit because that's all he is to me, a donor of sperm.