In a yoga class the other day I found a large piece of the puzzle that had been missing for most of my life. A perfectly clear picture of me sitting on a white picnic table with my Uncle Russell around the age of 4. I was sitting next to him while he was listening to a baseball game on his transistor radio with an ear piece that enabled him to hear it while blocking out the other noises. I had asked him if I could listen to it for a bit and he put the ear piece in my ear. I liked the feeling of hearing something and nobody else could hear and that he was paying attention to me.
I can clearly see the innocent boy sitting there. He had no agenda and no expectations. A boy on a picnic table. What I love about this photographic memory is that it is the first time I can remember of my childhood without the abuse. I have no other memories that are earlier.
I can see myself and feel the total innocence of my Being.
The next memory I have of my Uncle Russell is in the sauna more than likely around the same time iand and he is molesting me. This memory became coded into my DNA. I am no longer an innocent child but a "dirty little fucker" that my mind created in order for my Uncle to remain innocent and the other adults, including my parents, free and clear of any responsibility of protecting me and or holding my mother's dear older brother nice and clean.
Either way I come out of the sauna molested. It becomes my compass and the lens of which I look out onto the world and how I view my body and soul.
A dirty little fucker.
The old man smelled horribly and I remember his gray pubic hair, large penis and the acts he told me to perform for him. I know now after discovering this horrific memory on how my mind and body reacted. I remember shaking and crying uncontrollably and in a state of panic and anxiety. I am feeling now as an adult what I could not afford to as a 4 year old.
I can clearly see why adults don't want to "remember" these significant events in our childhood. Our minds would have us believe that we will be stuck in this state forever. The misconception of that premise is that the molestation has already occurred and it is still locked in the memory of the mind and body until we feel safe enough to expunge it from our world.
Without this memory of me on the picnic table I am forever stuck (perhaps subconsciously) in guilt and shame. No amount of coaxing, blessing, convincing, reading, affirmations, etc could flip the switch.
I had to find him myself.
A moment of Grace. A burst of Love.
From the inside.
Whole.
Clean.
Alive.
Free.
God I love this little boy.
My heart breaks for that little boy...
All I can say is I am so sorry. And congratulate you on finding your strength and health.
much love
Posted by: Lori June | January 13, 2015 at 10:36 AM
I have many words to describe the conversation we had concerning the white picnic table and the flash of your 4-year old little boy's innocent being. I will hold my 4-year old grandson in my arms this weekend and know that he can trust me completely as he should be able to. In my own way I will be honoring you at the same time. I will cherish my memory with Connor and think of the wonder you had at the innocent moment of listening to the radio. You are that joyful little soul who has gone back to reclaim that moment in time. That innocent memory is the reality and the truth of who and what you are, Carl. My life has been so enriched by knowing both you and Beth. Thank you.
Posted by: Joan Miron | August 27, 2014 at 12:26 PM
Most would like us to just remember the "good times" to go forward with the positive, to leave behind the past. And in doing so, it will preserve the character of the man who listens to baseball games and shares his transistor radio with his 4 year old nephew….a nice Uncle Russell.
In this space of everyone thinking and acting like he is a 'nice man' there is no room for a child's horrific experience of him. Who will listen and who will hear and then, who will kick Nice Uncle Russell out of the family?
And a four year old doesn't even have words to articulate not only what happened, but the feelings of terror.
Getting back to the place of "before abuse" takes you down a journey of a million sorrows. Priceless to see and feel the before…for that is what we brought to the abuse event. We came with our love and trust…and innocence.
Innocence "not knowing" what abuse was. We couldn't orchestrate an event we knew nothing about. It existence didn't exist until it was introduced to us by someone we trusted and loved.
I looked up "Innocence"….Lack of guile or corruption. Lack of experience with the world and the bad things that happen in life.
The little boy is only no longer innocent, because now he has experience with abuse. Uncle Russell is responsible for sexual abuse to a child of 4.
Posted by: beth Jukuri | August 27, 2014 at 04:54 AM