Dearest Brother

Dear Random Dad in Walmart, who was smacking his little boy. You are my brother. And I’m disappointed in you, Brother. You weren’t spanking your child.

I saw you. And you know I saw you. You weren’t disciplining anyone. You were taking out your aggression on a little boy. And it broke me.

I was walking through the aisles when I happened upon you. You were wailing on your son, Dear Brother. You were smacking his face repeatedly. You were smacking the back of the head. You were shoving him. The boy lost his footing. He fell.

I started walking toward you, and you stopped. You whisked your child away and disappeared. But the damage was already done. Because when your son looked at me, he had that look in his eye.

I know that look.

I wanted to chase you down. I wanted to say things to you. Maybe ugly things. Maybe I would have cussed you out. I don’t know.

But, you see, I couldn’t.

Because, for one thing, you were rip-roaring mad. For another thing: I’m a total wimp. And the reason I am a wimp is because I had a dad like you.

It took me a long time to admit that I was an abused child. Even now, writing these words makes me feel like a Grade-A idiot. Like a whiny baby.

The truth is, I didn’t know I was abused until my mid-thirties. A therapist told me, point-blank, that I came from an abusive family.

I didn’t believe him. This was news to me. I thought everyone’s dad hit them. I thought everyone’s mother hid her bruises with makeup before going to the supermarket. I thought every boy explained his busted lip by saying he “fell.”

But my story doesn’t matter, Brother. What matters is that kids like me grow up and go one of two ways.

We either (a) become aggressive, thereby becoming an abuser ourselves. Or we (b) grow up to become total wussies. Such as yours truly.

As a young man, I was a flat-out chicken. Every fight I unwittingly found myself in ended badly for me. I know it’s not masculine to admit such, but it’s true.

Because, you see, I can’t hit another person. Not after the way I was raised. Yes, that makes me pathetic. Yes, that makes me a loser. But I could not bear the feeling of my hand striking another.

The reason I’m writing to you, Brother, is because I don’t like myself right now. I hate what I did today. I hate what I did more than I hate what you did.

I hate that I walked away. I hate that I was silent. I wish I would’ve sounded the alarm. I wish I would’ve told someone what I saw. I wish I would have opened my mouth and spoken out instead of keeping quiet.

But then, you see, I’ve been wishing that for forty-odd years.

So I hope by some stroke of fate, you read this letter. I hope you change your methods. I hope you deal with your anger issues.

But most of all, I hope you realize that your son is not “yours.” This sacred child is only in your custody on a temporary loan.

Which is why I hope you never forget, Brother, that this child belongs to Someone with much bigger hands than yours.

7 comments

  1. Gloria Ryan - May 28, 2024 10:58 pm

    Sean – this one hits too close to home. Yesterday was my 81st birthday, and I am still trying to reconcile the story-telling joking fellow whom I adored, to the profanity spouting, out of control devil who spanked me until I bled. I did – and do – love him . I pray that he made peace with his Heavenly Father before he passed. He has been gone for 25+ years, and I am still trying to come to terms with his “legacy “.

    God bless you, Sean, for letting us know that we are not alone.. that we are loved.

    Reply
  2. Lynn - May 29, 2024 2:53 am

    Sean, there is something you can do that won’t cause you to become confrontational with the abuser. First, don’t let them see that you are observing. Second, get security or the police and child protective services on the phone quick as you can. But before you do anything else, make certain you saw exactly what you thought you saw. Children need to be protected. But sometimes outsiders mistake what they are seeing, and then innocent parents and children suffer while the agencies try to sort things out. I don’t think you, with your background, would make a mistake like that, but someone else might. Your background puts you in a strong position to recognize and do something about abuse. And any man who has such poor control of his anger issues as to smack a child in public needs to be called out. Notice I said smack, rather than spank or discipline. Kids need to be disciplined. They never need to be broken.

    Reply
  3. Julie - May 29, 2024 12:03 pm

    You’re a hugger, not a slugger. We need more huggers in this life.

    Reply
    • stephenpe - May 29, 2024 12:53 pm

      That was perfect, Julie.

      Reply
  4. stephenpe - May 29, 2024 12:52 pm

    My father used a belt on me. Till I was about 11 or 12. I would beg him to stop and that I would never do again whatever I had done. That was long ago. My father did the best he could. Mom was an alcoholic and he had to divorce her and take care of us. I became a parent to my two younger brothers. I loved my dad. He spanked us like I assume he was spanked. I KNEW HE LOVED me as he showed me often. I had him till I was about 63 yrs old and thank God each day for him. I didnt feel abused but I never used a belt on any of mine. I did use my hand when they were young. Sean, we love you for your honesty and humanity and humor. You are a fine man. I have called DCF for children as a teacher. It is one thing you can do. Thank you for this story today. It is important. Children are vulnerable and despite what some say the village still is important for kids.

    Reply
  5. charlynecox - May 29, 2024 2:20 pm

    Love and prayers for this poor child and all the others like him. Violence is never the answer to one’s own bad day and bad temper. I loved your lines: “But most of all, I hope you realize that your son is not “yours.” This sacred child is only in your custody on a temporary loan. Which is why I hope you never forget, Brother, that this child belongs to Someone with much bigger hands than yours.” So true! Children are precious in His sight.

    Reply
  6. Les - May 29, 2024 4:29 pm

    The club we belong to is one not chosen

    Reply

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