I see you now, little one,
Walking through fire, rain, gravel, alone.
Your tears, unwept, a cold track tracing your cheek, the salt stinging the corners of your mouth.
Your screams swallowed whole by silence.
A tightness gripping your small chest.
You felt invisible, didn’t you?
A shadow clinging to the walls, unseen, unheard,
Carrying burdens too heavy for your small frame,
While your heart screamed, Notice me. Please.
And yet, here I am, 25 years later,
Living with the echoes of your pain.
The loneliness you felt still lingers,
A ghost that haunts my every step,
But now it’s joined by the weight of my own failures
The fear of failing her, of failing them, echoes the fear I felt then,
The fear of failing you.
I grieve, little one. I grieve for you.
For not being able to protect you from the torment, the terror you endured.
The physical pain, the cruel strikes of a cricket bat, the sharp sting of a belt, the hollow thuds of a hand or foot, the fear that came with being left alone in the vast darkness of the bush, a pillow and teddy your only companions, never knowing when you’d be rescued.
I was too small, too powerless,
To shield you from those who should have loved you,
Who should have kept you safe.
The weight of that grief crushes me now,
As an adult, knowing I failed you then.
I try, little one. I try so hard.
To be the father you deserved.
To be the man you needed.
But some days I fall short,
And the shame feels like your burden all over again.
I wish I could hold you.
Tell you that it wasn’t your fault,
That the neglect wasn’t because you were unworthy,
That the loneliness wasn’t because you were unlovable.
I’d tell you that although the pain never truly leaves,
There will be moments, oh, little one, there will be moments!
Where love finds you,
Where her laughter, like sunlight through broken glass, fills the cracks in your heart, warming the cold spaces you thought would never thaw.
Where your children's arms, unlike the empty air that once surrounded you, now hold you tight, their presence a living testament that you are seen, you are cherished, you matter.
I grieve for you.
I grieve for your silent screams,
I grieve for the time you spent trying to understand what you did wrong to deserve this,
For the care you should have received,
For the love you didn’t know was waiting for you.
If I could whisper one truth into your heart,
It would be this:
You are loved.
You were always loved.
By me.
By the man you would become,
Even if he struggles to love himself.
So, walk on, little one, through the gravel and the rain.
Hold on for the joy that’s waiting,
For the connection that heals.
And know that though you walk alone in your memory, I am here now, holding your hand, finally loving you the way you always deserved.
And one day, little one, you will stand in the sunlight, not just surviving, but free!