So, once again for that literature class, we were supposed to write a poem to a parent. Here it be:
Don't Feel Bad
Don't feel bad about what you couldn't see
When no sign stood alone,
When knowing may well have been worse.
Don't feel bad about when you denied
What no parent would want to see,
What still absolutely was.
Don't feel bad about what you couldn't prevent
What was wrong,
What still had to be.
You want to feel bad.
But think about it.
Would it have been better if you'd known?
Assuming, of course, that you'd reacted as most would.
Could you have helped?
Perhaps, but they would have hurt more.
If they'd known, it wouldn't have been abuse, but therapy.
So that's it.
I'm glad you couldn't see.
Don't feel bad.