Chapter 11 - MY OWN FAILURE
Dr. Melissa Grant asked:
“When did you first know Margaret’s treatment of Lily was harmful?”
I hated the question.
“Years ago.”
“Why continue contact?”
“Because Daniel wanted it.”
“Anything else?”
I stared at the rug.
“I wanted the family.”
There.
Thomas had been kind to me.
Mark and Jessica hosted holidays.
Evan and Lily played together.
Margaret could be generous.
She bought school clothes.
Made soup when Lily was sick.
Stayed overnight after my surgery.
Then insulted me.
Questioned Lily.
Apologized.
Repeated.
I kept evaluating each incident separately.
Too rude to cut contact over.
Too small.
Too ambiguous.
Too easy to explain.
“I thought I could supervise around her.”
“Did you?”
“Mostly.”
“The party?”
“I was late.”
Dr. Grant nodded.
No punishment.
Just fact.
“I also slapped her.”
“Yes.”
“I hate that Lily saw.”
“Then address it with Lily.”
That evening I did.
“I hit Grandma.”
“I saw.”
“It was wrong.”
“She was mean.”
“She was.”
“So why wrong?”
Because children ask the question adults avoid.
“Because being furious doesn’t mean I get to hit someone when I’m not protecting myself or you from immediate harm.”
Lily thought.
“Would you hit her if she chained me again?”
My throat tightened.
“I would get you free and get help.”
“That’s not yes.”
“No.”
She seemed disappointed.
Then:
“I’m glad you hit her.”
I almost laughed.
“You’re allowed to feel that.”
“Are you?”
May you like
“Yes.”
We did not need matching morals in one conversation.
