Usually, I make it a point to take time on November 6th to reflect. I usually reflect on how far my children and I have come among other not so pleasant thoughts that have a habit of sneaking themselves in. But, this year November 6th did not play any significance. The day came and went and never once did I even allow a conscious thought of the incident to play into my psyche.
In the past, I have always remembered this day. Sort of a second birthday, I flag it, mark my calendar, set reminders, put up sticky notes and everything else to pay tribute to the day God gave me a second chance on life. But, this year... nothing.
I had the epiphany as I mindlessly glanced at the calendar and all of a sudden my stomach sank to my feet!
"How ungrateful could I be?, I can't believe I forgot!, On the fifth anniversary, though?" are just a few of the thoughts that flooded my mind as I quietly reprimanded myself for the oversight.
But, wait!
What if it's supposed to be like this? Over the past five years, I always set subconscious reminders of the incidents that ravaged my family at the climax of our deep encounter of domestic violence. Recently, however I find myself able to openly discuss good memories of their father with my children. I indulge them with tendencies that he had, things he liked, his favorite shows, and so on. In these moments, I catch their smiles or spend the next couple of minutes answering their questions about the man that was once an everyday part of their lives.
And in this reflection, I acknowledge that although for me November 6th was a day of deliverance, it may not be the same for my children. Although I often say that we were all delivered, I am speaking from the perspective of a mother protecting her young. From a woman held captive by the powerful grip of domestic violence. But, I am quick to forget that just like I had to mourn the loss of a husband at some point, my children had to mourn the loss of their father since November 6th, 2011.
They have expressed to me that they have forgotten his voice, his laugh, his scent, and his mannerisms, but they vividly remember the images of the monster that he morphed into that evening.
Isaiah 43:18 tells us "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past."
And perhaps for this reason I did not remember to relive the horror of November 6, 2011. I do not believe that it is only by coincidence that I have started to discuss the positive attributes of their father with my children. I think that it is all falling into place by divine purpose. I believe that this is part of the healing process as well. And while November 6th will always signify new life for me, I will no longer let the malice of that day lead.
