Two weeks ago, Jackie got admitted to a local hospital with a broken lip, the right eye was swollen shut, her left second rib was broken and her whole body covered in bruises. Basically, Morphine was her best friend then. She had the classical tell tale signs of an assault, but still she was intent on silence. She had developed, along with other medical conditions, selective amnesia. The cycle would eventually end anyway, on a bad note for that matter.She was not in the mood to rock her marital boat.
Jim was the cause of her visit and stay at the hospital. It was not the first time and every time she always hoped it would be her last. Just as her real friends had said, it did not stop. Jim had developed the habit of begging for her forgiveness, working hard to earn it. The results were Jackie getting a new something, expensive for that matter. A trip to some fancy place out of town or the country even. Her colleagues were envious of her sleek Mercedes, they did not know the price.
But neither did Jackie, for had it been known to her what life would be two years later, she would have made a different choice. The silent treatment, the hopes and dreams of getting back the Jim she married did not solve her dilemma. In any case, they did make it worse for her health. Question is, did she marry the Jim she knew or did she marry the Jim she thought she knew? To those questions, answers would never be revealed, not to Jackie anyway.
Two years later, I am sited in the midst of a crowd listening to the priest preach about life and death. It is a mass alright, one filled with episodes of sobs and solemn silence. Vicky, now almost three years, sobs quietly. Perhaps reality has struck or maybe she is joining in the sobs without really comprehending a thing. Jim, the man Jackie married, seated next to their daughter staring blankly at the expensive casket. I don't know what he is thinking, or if his focus is on her portrait seated on the beautiful casket. She looks radiant in the photo, I think to myself, It must have been taken before she got married. A few sobs here and there, one person loudly blows their nose.
The eulogy is so beautiful I almost weep. Her promising life was cut short, it was sad. The "she has been ill for some time now" part gets my adrenaline rushing through my veins. I do not care to hide my anger. How dare he?(Jim). After all he had put her through? My eyes search through the crowd for another angry face, not a single one. I get even more angry. I take a trip down my mind to calm my erratic system.
I think of all the Jackies' out there, sticking around because of the 'kids',fear of being stigmatized, fear of letting down relatives and whatever other reasons that come up.
I am not judging simply because I have not been there and empathy here does not help either. But pray do tell, dear Jackies', what exactly is going on in your minds when you prefer status quo?
It does not have to be physical abuse, emotional abuse is equally toxic. Hold on, not only those two, a habitual cheat of a man(ahem!moving on swiftly) is a ticking time bomb. I am sure none of us ladies enjoy the thought of Venereal diseases, right? Yet when that cheat you love so much to death demands his conjugal rights you give in anyway, hoping he will change. The notion of you being responsible for the way your man is acting is bull crap to some aspect. I believe a man will treat you the way you let him, or show him.
Do not get me wrong here ladies, do not prove yourself by fighting back(physically), just take a walk if you can.....try your best dear ladies because there is a potential resigning-to-fate Jackie in all of us.
The beautiful eulogy is over, we are laying Jackie in the ground, back to dust where she came from. This time, I cry for Jackie, for Vicky and for every woman out there going through a toxic relationship. I cry because she might not make it to the other side, I fear for her future. I silently vow to try my best to beat this Jackie in me, but I know I have to be a prayerful woman. For it is in God we take refuge.
When he who is supposed to protect has turned against his own rib, it begs the question, who will protect Jackie?
But neither did Jackie, for had it been known to her what life would be two years later, she would have made a different choice. The silent treatment, the hopes and dreams of getting back the Jim she married did not solve her dilemma. In any case, they did make it worse for her health. Question is, did she marry the Jim she knew or did she marry the Jim she thought she knew? To those questions, answers would never be revealed, not to Jackie anyway.
Two years later, I am sited in the midst of a crowd listening to the priest preach about life and death. It is a mass alright, one filled with episodes of sobs and solemn silence. Vicky, now almost three years, sobs quietly. Perhaps reality has struck or maybe she is joining in the sobs without really comprehending a thing. Jim, the man Jackie married, seated next to their daughter staring blankly at the expensive casket. I don't know what he is thinking, or if his focus is on her portrait seated on the beautiful casket. She looks radiant in the photo, I think to myself, It must have been taken before she got married. A few sobs here and there, one person loudly blows their nose.
The eulogy is so beautiful I almost weep. Her promising life was cut short, it was sad. The "she has been ill for some time now" part gets my adrenaline rushing through my veins. I do not care to hide my anger. How dare he?(Jim). After all he had put her through? My eyes search through the crowd for another angry face, not a single one. I get even more angry. I take a trip down my mind to calm my erratic system.
I think of all the Jackies' out there, sticking around because of the 'kids',fear of being stigmatized, fear of letting down relatives and whatever other reasons that come up.
I am not judging simply because I have not been there and empathy here does not help either. But pray do tell, dear Jackies', what exactly is going on in your minds when you prefer status quo?
It does not have to be physical abuse, emotional abuse is equally toxic. Hold on, not only those two, a habitual cheat of a man(ahem!moving on swiftly) is a ticking time bomb. I am sure none of us ladies enjoy the thought of Venereal diseases, right? Yet when that cheat you love so much to death demands his conjugal rights you give in anyway, hoping he will change. The notion of you being responsible for the way your man is acting is bull crap to some aspect. I believe a man will treat you the way you let him, or show him.
Do not get me wrong here ladies, do not prove yourself by fighting back(physically), just take a walk if you can.....try your best dear ladies because there is a potential resigning-to-fate Jackie in all of us.
The beautiful eulogy is over, we are laying Jackie in the ground, back to dust where she came from. This time, I cry for Jackie, for Vicky and for every woman out there going through a toxic relationship. I cry because she might not make it to the other side, I fear for her future. I silently vow to try my best to beat this Jackie in me, but I know I have to be a prayerful woman. For it is in God we take refuge.
When he who is supposed to protect has turned against his own rib, it begs the question, who will protect Jackie?
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