Not for the Meek.
I realize only now how much I have seen.
There is no sadder sight and sound, no more earth-shaking experience than seeing a little girl quiver and sob through the Lord's Prayer over her father's body.
There is no fear like cowering in a closet, clutching your younger brother as your neighbor lies bloody and beaten, dying in his own home. No terror like when the door flies open. No relief like when your father stands before the light-filled doorway, pistol in hand.
There is nothing that jars you more than knowing that your own mother was a possible target.
There is no sense so sickening as the realization that your proud papa has defeated himself, even though the rest of the world could not despite their efforts. No mixture of hate and horror as having him ask for you to kill him.
There is no saftey like a loved one's arms after your father finally rests.
There is no sense of strength nor weariness than holding back tears so your family can lean on you.
There is no escape from the past.
There is no pity expected, though the gesture is so gratefully accepted.
There is simply the realization that you've seen more than your twenty years should, that there is much more to see, and that you have to gather yourself up and do what's right for family before all.
I don't write this for pity. I write this because I have to record this moment, for myself, to remember that I remember. Please, please, don't think I wrote this for any other reason. And remember, I'm fine. I promise.
"As long as I know how to love, I know I'll be alright." -Gloria Gaynor (Written by Freddie Perren and Dino Fekaris)