This week has been a horribly heavy week of grief.  Rather than picking up where I left off last week in this journey of being married to a practicing pedophile for almost forty years without knowing it, I thought I’d get a few things off of my heart.  Sometimes the pain gets so bad that we just have to release some of it.

This week was bad.  The tears would not stop.  I work in the field of supporting families who are going through the grief of child loss, so I knew that year two would be worse than year one in this grief of finding out that the father of my children — the man I was married to– was a practicing pedophile for almost fifty years.  But I wasn’t prepared for the flood of emotions that would come pouring from deep within my soul.

This week was John’s birthday.  I thought I had worked through most of the emotional wreckage of John’s arrest and conviction for child molestation.  But, I was so very wrong!

It’s strange to say, but prior to hearing about John’s investigation, I honestly didn’t know what a pedophile was.  I had never spoken the word, nor did I ever talk about child molestation.  It was a topic that was foreign to me.  So, when I first learned that John was under investigation for child molestation I went into a state of shock.  I couldn’t imagine in my wildest dreams that he would commit such acts.  Deep in my heart I knew it was true.  The red flags as we’ve been discussing for several weeks were there.  In fact, by the time of his arrest, he might as well have been wearing a sign that said, “Child Molester.”  He was so caught up in what he was doing that he got sloppy.  He didn’t cover all of his tracks.  Several of the children he was molesting began speaking out.  They were telling. But, he was so deep into this perverse, dark life that he didn’t notice. And, he didn’t care.

Thank God he was arrested and stopped!

But, the thing that is so hard to grasp is the level of pain that my children are feeling and the way John treated them as well as all of his church family and the community as a whole.  He was wonderful to them!  He really, really was!  He was kind.  He was compassionate.  I’ve watched him cry over the hurt and pain of others.  I saw him wrestle with how to help families who were hurting financially and emotionally.  I’ve seen him sacrifice so much for his children.

And, yet…..this same man….this kind, generous, caring man was also the emotional abuser, all-controlling husband, and the one whose very heart, mind, and body abused countless young children throughout his lifetime.

It’s so hard to try to balance the scales.  So much kindness on one side, and so much evil on the other.  How can this be?  How does this happen?

As I struggled through this birthday week, flashes of the “good John” kept sweeping through my mind.  I saw him at the beach with the kids, taking them on walks finding salamanders, barbecuing chicken and burgers for summer picnics. I saw him laughing with the kids and I remembered past family birthday parties — we had so many wonderful family traditions that we carried out for birthdays!

I woke up several times this week in a drenching sweat as I saw him in the courtroom looking at me with a smirk on his face showing no shame whatsoever over what he had done to so many little girls.  And, I cried.  I sobbed.  I buried my head into my pillow and cried until I thought my insides were falling out.

How can so much evil and good come from one person? It just doesn’t make sense!  I try to understand it, but it’s so big — so hard — to try to grasp!

I felt lonely and dark and blue this week.  I struggled with what to say to  my children when I talked with them.  Do you say it’s going to be okay when you know it’s not?  It’s never, ever going to be okay in the sense of family life as we once knew it.

I felt like screaming so many different times this week, “Where’s the help? Who knows how to do this?  How do you travel this journey?”  And, so I cried more, and begged God to please feel real to me and to my family and to every little child who is struggling day after day with emotions that are so scarred and broken brought on by the abuse of this man — this kind man and this  very evil man.

Brokenness.  It’s not a hard word to type out on paper, but when you think about its meaning, it’s one of the most difficult words of all to say.

And, so I write these words.  I did not send them, but I felt them. 

“John,

I loved you for almost forty years with all of my heart.  I worried about you.  I cared for you.  I stuck by you when others talked about you and slandered you.  I was there by your side giving you encouragement and comfort every step of the way.

Your children loved you more than life!  They were so proud of you.  They loved when you took them on nature hikes, taught them how to hunt, played basketball with them, and told your funny stories.  They loved when you were their preacher and you were the one who baptized them, performed their weddings, and were there to give them counsel. You were their calm when I was their crazy, emotional storm.

And, now look at what has happened.  Look at what you’ve left. We loved you so much and we don’t know how to live right side up any more in this broken world that you’ve created for us and so many countless others.  We think of you and we feel so much pain deep within our souls.  We feel cheated.  We feel like somehow if we could have been better you would have been better.  We wish for life as it used to be — as we thought it was — but we know it will never, ever be that way again.

What do we tell the grandkids? When their innocent faces look into our eyes and say, “Where is Pap?” what do we say? How do we explain this to them? I get so angry at you for leaving behind such a painful mess!

There’s a shame, you know.  A real shame that accompanies having a husband/father/grandfather/preacher/friend in prison for committing many, many acts of molesting children.  People sometimes question us or say, “Not John.  I don’t believe this.  He was the most kind man we knew.”  What do we say to that?

You lied to us.  You deliberately lied.  You hurt so many people.  You hurt your own flesh and blood — you hurt your children  so very much.  They’re so wonderful.  And, your grandchildren are so beautiful and precious, and now there is this black cloud that hangs above us all of the time and it feels like it’s pressing down harder and harder until sometimes it’s hard for us to breathe.

You sit in prison and you whine.  You feel like you got an unfair sentence.  Well, you know what?  So did everyone you love.  Your family, your friends, your church — everyone who loved you has been shaken to the core.  And, you just don’t get it.  I wonder if you ever will understand just how far and how deep the wounds go.

I can’t say “happy birthday” because that would be a lie.  I don’t wish you a happy birthday.  But, what’s so strange is that I don’t wish evil on you, either.  I mostly wish you weren’t you.  I wish you were part of you.  I wish you were the good John. Oh, how much I wish you were only the good John.

Sincerely,

Clara, the one who was your soul mate and who is the mother of your children”

As you see, I didn’t send the letter. I know that John wouldn’t get it.  He’s still deep into pedophila and thinking only of himself.  Maybe one day he will understand the level of pain that his actions caused.  Maybe one day he will say, “I’m sorry” and truly mean it.

One thing makes me feel better, and that is when I’m by the sea.  There’s just something so healing about the rhythm of the waves.  I picture all of the ugly, evil things in life being washed out to sea and being gone forevermore.  And, with each incoming wave, there are blessings to wash over us and make us feel new and clean and healthy again.  I haven’t visited the ocean yet this year, but I long for the wonderful blessing of walking along the shore and watching the constant rolling of the waves to and fro.  For now I’ll continue to tap into my memory bank and remember those sights and sounds and feel comforted by the blessing of the sea.

I’ll end with a prayer from my heart.

“Dear God,

This has been a hard week.  As a mom who sees and hears pain in the eyes and hearts of her children I don’t know what to do.  I want to make it better but I can’t.  I can’t fix this kind of brokenness and I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know how to let my children and my grandchildren know how much I love them and miss them and think about them every minute of the day and wish that this pain had never entered their lives.  I’m asking you to somehow heal us.  Help us.  Enter the heart of John in a real way and help him to come to a place of true remorse for all of the pain he caused the kids so that they can feel just a bit of a father’s love again.  They feel lost.  We all feel so lost and we don’t know how to walk this barren, lonely path. Help us, I pray.  And, thank you so much for the blessing of each and every child and grandchild and friend you’ve placed in my life.  I couldn’t make it a day without them.  In your name I pray, Amen”

Thank you, dear friends, for listening.  Thank you for your constant love and support.  Thank you to my kids for being gracious and kind and for continuing to love and support one another as you do.

If you are in a situation similar to this, I urge you to share your feelings.  It really does help.  If you have been molested by a pedophile (I HATE the word “victim” because it sounds so powerless!) and you are feeling the pain of abuse, I’m praying for you. This is not something that can be brushed under the rug and forgotten about.  Seek help.  Talk to someone who will listen, and seek support.

Pedophiles will use you, abuse you, lie to you, and leave you.  That’s just who they are.  They will make you feel like you’re crazy because they will also treat you kind (in the beginning), will pamper you, and will make you feel special.  Don’t fall for it!  Be on guard at all times!!  Pedophiles are your kind neighbor, the soccer coach, the Sunday school teacher, the preacher, the attorney, the plumber, the teenage kid next door.

Be on guard!  Begin educating yourself today!  An excellent resource is Anna Salter.She has worked with pedophiles and child sex offenders for years and years.

And, I urge you to visit my son Jimmy’s blog.  He is writing from a totally different perspective than me.  He is writing from the perspective of the son of a pedophile.

Together we can make this a safer place for our children!  Education is power!  Thank you for helping protect our children!

Love,

Clara

Note:  The next post will pick up where we left off in my personal journey of being married to a pedophile.  Thanks so much for bearing with me while I let go of some of this week’s pain.  My love to each one!