If You’ve Done Me Wrong
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Just assume I don’t want to hear from you again…ever
I just had the worst Thanksgiving of my life.
My dad, who was being treated for cancer but was doing pretty well, died suddenly the day after Thanksgiving. I had traveled with my kids, pets, and a pumpkin pie to my parents’ house only to find everyone gone when I arrived. I called my sister and was told to head to the hospital. Dad wanted to see everyone.
My father had been admitted early in the week for a simple procedure. By Thursday, he was ready to die and say his goodbyes. By Friday, he was gone.
The following days were a blur and just a day before the funeral, I received a mysterious text message.
“Is this Alecia?”
I cautiously replied yes. I then received condolences for my loss from my first husband. For some context, we divorced when I was 24 because of his escalation of abuse and control. He was emotionally, mentally, and physically abusive. Toward the end he held a gun to my head, threatened to kill my family if I left, and had me followed around town. He staged a break-in to make me feel crazy. I had to file a restraining order and leave the state to feel safe again. I am now 52 years old.
Several years ago, he tried to reconnect through social media and I asked him to never contact me again. Then I blocked him. Getting that text message made my heart race. It sent me back in time nearly thirty years when he had control over my emotions, my actions, my body, my brain, and my life. Here was my abuser trying to use a moment of vulnerability to somehow get back into my life — even if only for a moment. He may have been sincerely sorry that I had lost my dad. I don’t know.
But it also doesn’t matter.
His feelings do not matter when it comes to me. When I asked him to never contact me again, I meant it. I meant under no circumstances, no matter how dire, did I want to hear from him again.
I know there are people out there who would say things like “forgive and forget” or who would admonish me for my negative reaction. After all, he was trying to be nice.
Hmmm. I don’t think so. I think that somehow finding out my phone number and contacting me in a time of great sorrow…
