I will never forget the day my mom left my dad.
With three kids under seven in tow, shaking hands, and a mission to better herself and our lives, she made the bravest decision of her life. I remember it was raining. She was rushing to get us into the car, her hands trembling. I remember feeling scared and confused. We were off to my grandma’s house—again. But this time, it would be for good.
My dad drank a lot and would often get physical with my mom. I don’t remember him hurting us, but I do remember being terrified to ever talk back to him.
She had left many times before, but the cycle was always the same. A few days would pass, and then he’d show up crying, promising it would never happen again. But the most manipulative thing he did—the thing that broke me—was bringing my best friend, Lady, our German Shepherd. He knew it would make me beg my mom to let us go home. And she often did.
The cycle continued. Until that last time.
I commend my mom for having the strength to finally say “enough” and walk away. But the trauma of losing so much so young—especially Lady, my best friend, my protector—is still real.
Never underestimate the power your actions and words have on a child. They can shape a lifetime.
