So Others Ascend Righteously
By: Liani Jarrett
Nine months ago, I told her, he hit me.
Her decision to stay with him made me feel like
she didn't believe me, like she thought maybe I
deserved it or she was better than me, like
she thought he respected her more than me and
would never do her like that because she was
stronger than me and carried a badge and gun.
I can't help but wonder how she's feeling today
now that his hand found its way to her face
the way it had mine in the past. I wonder what
she is thinking now that she had to defend herself
and her honor in front of my daughter as I've had
to do in the past.
I wonder how she feels now that she had to order him
to leave her home through tears, shaking hands
and shattered hope.
I struggle to not feel the warmth of I told you so, the
comfort of I'm not a liar, and the security of knowing she has
now seen that he is who his ex-wife and grown daughter warned
me, he was.
I struggle to not celebrate through the tears I can't cry that my
daughter's father has shown her at her tender age of five who he
really is and to know that in her presence, I never had to utter a
negative word or Abracadabra to unveil the rabbit in the hat.
I'm eagerly awaiting the call I'll probably never get where she
apologizes for not being loyal to the unspoken sisterhood of abused
women she took an oath to believe, serve, and protect. The one where
she seeks advice on how to put her broken life back together because
she wears shame she can't share with her closest family and friends.
I'm waiting the call where she sets the record straight on what
happened and inquiries about the mental safety of my daughter she
claimed she cared so much for knowing that she saw what she
saw in her home this morning.
Nine months ago, I told her he hit me. I'm still numb by her silence.