TRIP "HOME"

I have been estranged from my parents for over twenty-five years. Following my inpatient trauma treatment and memory retrieval, I was emotionally devastated and terrified of allowing them near me. I wrote them a note and stated, "A child remembers everything. Do not contact me again."

Over the years, I prayed for my parents. My fear of them and my anger toward them had largely abated. My pain had diminished, and I felt compassion and love for these two souls.

In 2010, I became aware of my need to see my parents. Before they crossed to the other side, I wanted to tell them that I loved them.

I sent them a card requesting to visit them. My mother responded. Over time and several correspondences, she invited me to visit. We planned to share lunch. I was to stay in nearby lodging.

In October of 2010, I made the journey to my childhood home. The distance required for me to travel far exceeded the mileage on the trip meter.

Having moved from the farm, my mother arranged for me to meet her at their new home in town. My father refused to see me. He had vacated the premises for my arrival.

At 86, my mother looked well. Her hair color and style were unchanged. Her face, due to cosmetic surgery, was as I remembered it. I was glad she had the means to meet her needs.

We had a very stilted conversation, as we sat at my parent's kitchen table. I inquired about her health and the various people in the community. With little visible emotion, she spoke of her health and reported the local news. She told me of her church activities and the monetary contributions she and my father had made to the church.

Throughout our time together, my mother avoided eye contact and made no inquiry into my life.

At an appointed time, she announced we were going to the farm where I was reared. My nephew, his wife and their two daughters now lived there and continued the farming operation started by my parents.

With my mother in the passenger seat, I drove to the farm. On arriving, I noticed little had changed. The house, barns, granaries were as I remembered.

As I gazed upon the various structures, I attempted to appear normal. However, I was experiencing a movie reel of flashbacks of the abuse that I had sustained in those buildings. The same was true when I entered the house. In vivid color, I was reliving my trauma.

I had not seen my nephew since he was a small child. I was struck by his resemblance to his father, my brother. My nephew and his daughters, ages two and seven, were filled with energy and delightful. I was unable to meet his wife, who was working out of town.

My nephew began to inquire about my life, profession and world views. To our surprise, there were many parallels in our journeys.

For lunch, we took my mother into town. Afterward, my mother was tired. I drove her home and returned to the farm. My nephew had invited me to spend the afternoon with him and his daughters.

At the day's end, I was exhausted, feeling emotionally fragile but glad I came. During the evening, on my return drive, I listened to the radio broadcast of the day's events. To my surprise, it was Halloween. Unknown to my conscious mind, my subconscious mind and Higher Source had coordinated the scheduling. During the subsequent four months, I was depressed and in emotional pain. The trip reopened my wounds. I had more work to do.