Cafe Hitch-hike

2022-11-13

The Fallout

It was another one of those situations. Things looked a certain way, but I knew there was more.

My friend was called on to assist with a mutual friend who was having a really bad evening after seeing estranged family. We sat at our hightop table while their phone dinged with one text message after another. I excused myself to use the restroom and to give my friend time to respond to the texts or make an SOS voice call if necessary.

I knew some things about our mutual friend, but I really wasn’t sure what exactly my friend knew: did they know as much or not? I didn’t ask. It was not for me to ask.

My friend showed me the 17 received texts and said they didn’t know what to say. They wanted me to read them, but I said I didn’t want to.

“I’ll read it, say something, and you’ll pass it along to the friend who figured I saw it. It’s private,” I said, “I don’t want to see it.”

My friend showed their phone to me one more time, but I caught this text from our friend: ‘I don’t think she has any love left for me whatsoever.’ I felt a part of my heart freeze and ice over when I read that.

One thing was knowing something in secret, but the heavier part was what I felt in my chest, the pain of knowing how badly both people felt. I felt terrible for the friend who sensed a relative felt no love for them. And, knowing what I knew about the mutual friend, I understood the relative’s reaction. I felt the chill literally move down one of my arms and into my hand.

I went home that night, and I had to think about the people I’ve known who had done deliberately wrong things to others. Some people were abusive or violent. I thought about the pain, aftermath, and how long it took to clear the debris. Sometimes it took effort to manage the scars that caused occasional aches and pains. A lot of those I knew who were abused never fully could find peace. But, I never thought about the fallout the abusers lived with.

I knew some of them died alone and unhappy. Some couldn’t stop their abusive ways and got into more trouble. Some felt immense shame and didn’t talk to anyone. Some were very depressed, blamed everyone for their problems, and felt bitter. Some actually found love after their horrible deed; some where grateful for the new chance while others treated their love just as terribly as they treated those before them. Some tried to reach out to those they abused or harmed, and often to closed doors or hearts like what our friend was facing.

I could not think of any who were able to start again or go on to other types of successes. I could not think of any who tried to do better. I really could not identify anyone like that, at least not in my family.

What does one do in situations like this? I just remember that when I drew lines between myself and others who did terrible things, it was usually because I didn’t want their destructive presence around me and did not trust them to stop; the trust part was usually justified.

I interacted with some relatives who did awful things but not towards me. We really had caring, friendly, if not loving relationships apart from what they did to others. I acknowledged the sin but loved the person, and these people usually kept their trouble far away from me along with a little distance. There was a person or 2 who distanced themselves from me after a while and I later found out there was good reason.

I couldn’t help but think about my birth father, stepfather, uncles, and the lines I had to draw, those I shunned, and those I gradually but uneasily forgave (and have to over and over again). I finally thought about the heavy prices they ultimately paid for what they did. Some of them never had to face a cop, courtroom or avenger for what they did, but they definitely paid hefty prices in other ways.

Before I went to sleep, I silently prayed for the mutual friend who was shunned from much of their family. I silently prayed for them, my birth father, stepfather, and others. There is no easy answer and it’s not something that could resolve overnight, so I prayed.

It gave me another glimpse at types of abuses and wrongdoings. A perpetrator can hurt a victim, but the perpetrator will often get a special kind of blowback that can just about scorch them to their bones.

downwind | upstream