Soul Bazaar

A Little Person’s Voice About Divorce, and the Hispanic Nannie, a Hero in the Shadows

March 25th, 2008 10 Comments » Filed under Letters

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Last week, somebody very close and very dear called me and told me that she had written a letter – Letters are powerful healing tools, for the giver and the receiver – she told me the story. Her brother in law had separated from his wife 3 months ago, and is now considering going back to his marriage.

She said she had this urge, a feeling bigger than her, to sit down by the computer and start typing. She said she started typing and started crying. She said she couldn’t stop writing, neither crying, until she finished the letter.

The letter is about a stuck little person hiding in a room feeling he or she wants to crawl under a rock and never come out. Sometimes our childish human behavior even when we are way into adulthood is very clear, like watching the 5 year old child acting out in the 55 year old lady’s body, who monopolizes the moment, not being able to share conversation with the group. Acting out in the fifties what could not be acted out at five. Sometimes is more subtle. In any case, while we engage in our childish behavior as adults, we don’t think while we fight with our spouse that maybe, there is a scared little person hidden in a room hibernating. With a desperate need to talk to somebody that will reassure him or her that his or her feelings are valid, and he or she doesn’t have to be trapped in that reality for ever. Here is the letter.

We are not disclosing the real names, in order to protect the persons involved, especially the children. Enjoy! Perhaps you feel identified or know a child in the same situation.

Hey. I am emailing you because I figured it’s better than a phone call for me. It’s easier to express myself. However, if you want to talk about it, I am there for you.

As you know, my mom and dad did not have the most cordial relationship. Yes, they loved each other very much.

(Although, I am convinced that my dad loved my mom lots more because he was hooked to her mental games. I realised it in my adulthood). However, when they fought, it was very sad for me. As a matter of fact, here I am, 39 and I can’t even type about it without crying. When my dad and mom argued, I would literally lock myself in my room and hibernate.

I am thankful for having had a live-in nanny that was my rock. I could “hide” with her and she would tell me that “everything would be fine”. Like I said, I had an adult to talk to and let everything out. Your little boys need to be able to talk to someone other than you or Elizabeth or anyone else in the families (non-bias) and VENT!!!

You can tell that Derek has so much inside that he needs to let out, but he can’t, because he unknowingly can’t tell anyone in either family for fear of hurting the parents. I, personally, think it would be very good for them to see a therapist. I had a nanny that I could count on for that, and if she would not have been around, I would have become even more of an introvert. I see myself in Derek. A shy little person.

Anyway, back to me (Peter would probably say typical…me me me). One time, when my parents had a screaming match, my dad got so frustrated that he kicked the shower door and had to get 23 stitches on the arch of his foot. He never hurt my mother physically, but he had to take it out somehow. That was the first big fight that I can remember and we were still living on Belle-view Dr. I was 8, I think.

We moved to the house on 19th street, which you have been to many times. And the fights continued, but now, my mom started calling the cops. Jason, that was the worst thing ever.,, I was so mortified every time the cops came…and they were there often. My house was perfectly situated where the school buses would all come down Stark Street, (which is directly in front of the house). I had to come up with creative ideas as to why the cops were at my house AGAIN!…IT TOTALLY SUCKED!!!

They also would fight when I had friends over, therefore I did not have friends over that often. When they came, I would turn up the stereo or TV up really loud, so they would not hear my parents fighting (again, verbally, never physically). I tried to pretend that it was not happening, but it was…

All I wanted to do was crawl under a rock and never come out. Seriously, it got to the point that I did not want to invite my friends over for the fear of my parent’s fighting. Now, I did have one thing going for me. My dad was in the travel business, which meant that he traveled all the time. He would be gone 1/2 of the year total. I hate to say it, but I could not wait for my dad to leave. Not having my dad around was like living in paradise… not because I didn’t love him, but because I knew there weren’t going to be any fights…and I could have my friends over (that included Elizabeth, BTW).

Now, when I knew my dad was coming back, my stomach would turn, I would feel sick. Since he was usually coming back from Europe, that meant that he would arrive at home when I was at school. I didn’t want to go home. Actually, I didn’t want to go home A LOT!!!

Now, you tell me… is that the kind of household a kid should come home to? A kid’s home should be their sanctuary where they should always feel safe…which is what your brother and I have given Rachel. Whenever I pick her up from school and I have to run errands afterwards, she gets upset because she wants to go home. She loves her home, not just in the physical sense, but in the spiritual sense.

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