Monday, December 16, 2013

Domestic Violence

A friend revealed to me that she's been the victim of domestic violence for most of the 17 years that she has been married.

She was my daughter's brownie leader back in the day.  10 years ago, they moved 1,000 miles away to a farm in the middle of nowhere.  We kept touch through Facebook.  Occasionally, I attempted to stop by and see them when I was in the area, but things would never work out.  I never thought twice about it.

About 3 months ago, she completely dropped off the radar, and abruptly shut down her Facebook page. 

I started searching for her, calling and e-mailing her family until I finally got an answer.

She had run from her husband, and was in hiding.  She would get back in touch with us as soon as she felt safe.

Two months went by, and she opened another Facebook page under a new name.  It is locked down to friends only, and she invited her close friends and family to join her page. 

Slowly, the tale has been told to us.

There were incidents here and there when they still lived on the East Coast, but they didn't happen often and were easily excused.

The violence picked up when they moved out to the middle of nowhere. 

It became worse, and culminated when he hit her so badly that the EMS crew had to be called to revive her.  He told the paramedics that she had slipped and fallen on a loose board.

She ran for her life.

When she left, he cleaned out the house, the bank accounts, and all of her possessions.  He left, leaving the animals on the farm with no way for her to pay for feed, and winter was setting in.

She went back to the house, and has been determined to succeed.

The neighbors pitched in and helped her get enough hay for her animals for the winter. 

She got in touch with a women's shelter, who has put her in touch with a lawyer who will work pro bono for her.

She has a cot to sleep on.

Her phone, internet, and cable has been cut off.  She only keeps the electricity connected because it powers the well and the heater for the stock tanks.

The only clothes she owns are the ones that she fled with.

If you had known this family when they lived here, you never would have thought this was possible.  He was a charming man, dedicated to his family, and a hard worker.  He would occasionally lead Girl Scout meetings where he would teach the girls knot tying, first aid, or self defense.  I remember him volunteering to work at the horse stables, cleaning out stables so that his daughter could get a discount on horseback riding classes.

She was a girl scout leader, vice president of the PTA, and she worked part time at a petting zoo.

It just goes to show, you never know what goes on inside of someone else's house and someone else's relationship when the doors are closed and no one else can see.

Anyway, back to our friend.

On Friday night, all of us who had been in her girl scout troop when she was a leader got together.
We packed boxes to ship out to her for Christmas.

We sent coffee and beans.  We sent an HD antennae for a television.  We sent scarves, gift cards,  and crazy socks.  We went to Goodwill, and bought her warm clothes that are suitable for going back to work and for working on a farm.  We sent her a tin of fudge, and we sent her some earrings.

We packed them all into those wonderful boxes that the Post Office advertises "If it fits, it ships".  All of the families who were in her troop 11 years ago are now spread all over the state.  Each of us took a box, and we shipped them from out on Saturday from our respective post offices.  (A great policy, I know that on my box, I saved $10 on shipping!)

We didn't tell her what we've done.  It's a surprise.  We are all following the tracking codes on our boxes, and sending e-mails back and forth to each other, tracking the progress of our boxes across the country.

We talked and we laughed, reminiscing about our little girls, and sharing stories of our young ladies they have become.  We rejoiced in their successes, and we cried over their challenges.

We all commented that we had no idea that this relationship was one that harbored violence.  We never had a clue.

So, we made a date.  In February.  The date has been confirmed.

We are going to a domestic violence shelter in February with our girls.  We are going to host a Valentine's Tea Party with the residents of the shelter.  In the meantime, we are collecting the hygiene items that the shelter has requested.

What a horrible way to wake up to the reality of domestic violence - right in our own circle of friends.  How on earth did we miss this?  Could we have done anything to help sooner?  We feel so helpless, and as if we have failed them somehow.

If you are looking to give a gift that makes a difference, I urge you to call your local shelter and see what items they need this holiday season.  The simplest items can make a very big difference in the life of another.

My friend, I am praying for you.  I wish I could do more! 

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