Whenever someone talks about dying and going to Heaven, the first thing they mention is that they’ll get to see loved ones who’ve gone on before them. That idea always makes me feel kind of funny because, and I’m a little ashamed to say it, I don’t really want to see my relatives who’ve gone ahead of me. My mother, my sister and my stepdad are the ones who are there now, that I know of, and my relationship with them was so incredibly complicated and painful that I don’t know what I’d say to them once I met them in Heaven.
During the days before my stepdad died I wrote a poem, called Dutiful Daughter’s Escape:
The phone is ringing, “Daddy’s dying!”
Distraught and woeful, Mother’s crying.
If I marched homeward I’d be lying,
Their silent wall accusing.
To them I say, “No debt to pay
Have I to you, to pain allay;
To meet your need myself would slay” ~
Small suicide unnoticed.
But then I ask myself…
Is Mother’s need of greater worth,
O’erwhelming pain of daughter’s dearth?
Then truth unearth’d ~ a child by birth
Doth not a mother make.
So Daddy’s dying, Mother’s crying.
With fearful trembling I am trying
The cords to cut of love undying ~
Spid’ry coils ensnaring,
And head-long running, I’m escaping
Family traps that minds be raping
Though scraped with bait as I’m reshaping
What I know of love.
S.A. Kuriakos & Wordsworth*
©December 31, 1991
*Wordsworth was one of my alters who was involved in helping me write poetry when I was multiple.
This was written the day before my stepdad died in January of 1992. And I did go to see him in the hospital a couple of days before he died. He was in a coma and he was in ICU, so I went late at night when I knew no one else would be there. I didn’t want to run into my mother or my sister. I just wanted to be able to see my dad without the added burden of having to talk to anyone else. My dad had multiple sclerosis, and he’d gone into respiratory arrest a couple of days previously, and the doctor said that he wouldn’t pull out of it, that this time he would die. It was just a matter of when.
I wanted to see him so I could tell him that I loved him, and that he didn’t have to worry about Mom, because my sister and I would make sure she was okay. I wanted to tell him that he was free to leave and go home to Heaven without any worries. I went twice and told him the same things both times. I knew he could hear me even though he was in a coma. And after he was gone I found out that the day after my second visit he came out of the coma and told my mother I’d been there, and he told her what I had said to him. And he died the day after that, on January 1, 1992.
Everytime I read that poem I feel like I was being selfish. I mean, my dad’s death was imminent, and what was I thinking about? I was thinking about my needs rather than my mother’s needs when she was about to lose her husband.
In the year before my dad’s death, I had separated myself from my family for a period of time, because memories had begun to surface of my biological father’s abuse, and especially the sexual abuse, and they were really bad, and my mother wasn’t accepting any of it.
The thing is, I had put my parents needs ahead of my own my whole entire life, and in the process I had been trampled on, raped (quite literally, as well as figuratively), and disregarded from the very beginning. My sister was always the fair-haired child and I was always the family scapegoat, and there had to come a time when I stood up for myself. I don’t think there would have been a good time for that to happen. Regardless of when I did that it would have been bad, so when I separated myself I did it because I had to for my own self-preservation. At the time I had no idea my stepdad would die in another year. And when he died I came back because I knew my mother would need the help, plus I’d made enough progress in dealing with my own stuff that I could handle whatever my family threw at me.
The first time I told my mom about what I was remembering, her response was, “Well, I thought something was going on because I saw bruises. If I’d known it was sexual abuse the divorce would have happened a lot sooner.” That made me really angry because children die from being physically abused all the time, and she did nothing to stop it, and instead used the idea that she didn’t know the abuse was sexual as her excuse for not protecting me. After all, physical abuse is perfectly terrible all by itself! It should have been enough to make her JUMP to protect me! But no, apparently not. I forgive her! I forgive her!!
I separated myself because I had to be able process my feelings, regardless of how negative they were, without having to deal with my mother’s denials and attempts to subvert or block my feelings and memories. Also, I didn’t want to cause any more pain in my family than was already there in my efforts to talk about the issues that were surfacing, and I knew that confronting my mother and my sister would inevitably create more pain ~ LOTS of pain. My sister hadn’t had any memories of abuse, though I was pretty sure she’d been hurt in some way, I just didn’t know exactly how. She had to be allowed to remember on her own in God’s timing without any help from me.
In addition it came out that I’d had to become multiple in order to survive, which was an added complication, and I didn’t want to have to explain that to my mother as well. However, as it turned out, there was a soap opera being aired at that time that had a character who was multiple, and my mother liked watching it. When I finally did reveal the multiplicity to her, she’d already become somewhat familiar with that character’s issues, so it wasn’t nearly as big of a problem because the soap opera had normalized it for me.
God is SOOO GOOD!!!
To be clear, as I stated above, I’ve forgiven my mother for not protecting me from my biological father’s atrocities. So why am I still having a hard time with the idea of seeing my mother and sister when I get to Heaven? I think it’s because, even though I’ve forgiven them, there are still many unresolved aspects of our relationship, and I don’t know how to go about sorting out all the problems so I can come to a resolution and let it all go.
In thinking about it, however, it came to me that in Heaven we won’t be like we are here on earth. When we get to Heaven we’ll be changed and transformed, because God will have finished His work in us,
And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. Philippians 1:6, NLT.
God is working now while we’re here on earth, and He’ll continue the process of sanctification in us until it’s complete on the day when Jesus Christ returns.
Oh what a day that will be! I’ll no longer have to struggle and fight within myself (and with myself!), and I won’t have a hard time relating to my sister, something that was a huge struggle throughout my entire life with her. And I’m hoping that all the memories of my horrific childhood will be washed away, and I’ll be free of them, so I can relate to my family in a whole new way. It’s hard to imagine what that will be like, but it has to be better than the way it’s been here on earth.
Forgiveness is a vital part of the Christian life. Jesus forgave us for our sins by going to the Cross, so I can do no less by forgiving my parents for what they did to me. It seems a small price to pay. And in the process God will heal me and wipe away all my tears, and I’ll feel no more pain or sorrow. That sounds like Heaven to me!
He is so rich in kindness and grace that He purchased our freedom with the blood of His Son and forgave our sins. ~ Ephesians 1:7, NLT.
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” ~ Revelation 21:4, NKJV.
I SOOO look forward to THAT!!
God's Not Through With Me Yet 