Pulled away

Obviously, I have created a timeline of memories, so here is my next one- this one is a memory of being separated from my parents by the child protective services in Flagstaff, Arizona.

As I laid in a strange bed with clothes that did not belong to me, I cried for my mom and dad. Just a few hours before I experienced one of the first traumatic events that has helped shape me, into me. We (Edvan- my little brother and I) were waiting in a room with cartoons on the wall and the movie “3 ninja’s” playing in the background. Kirby (our new case manager) came in the room and asked us to follow her… as she looked down at us with a heavy heart, she managed to gather her words with tears in her eyes, "This is Mary, you'll be going home with her to stay a few weeks until we meet with the judge."

Mary looked happy to see us, she was a tall thin white lady, very inviting. Wait, what? going home with her? why? what did I do? Was I being a “bad” kid? .. I looked at my parents very confused about what was happening, and my seven-year-old brain could not comprehend the situation... I looked over and seen my parents walking to us .. I screamed out "Dad, Mom ... I am so sorry, what did I do? I’ll be good, I promise." I thought about all the things I had done to make them upset with me … spilled milk that caused them to fight, walking into the living room after they told me to go to sleep, taking my moms pennies and using it for ice cream while dad was passed out. – which of these things made them not want me anymore?

As I ran to my parents Kirby calmly said, "it's time to go, please get in the car kids." While my mom was hugging me crying she muttered the words "we love you, please take care of your brother, be strong, be brave, and be on your best behavior.” I wrapped my arms around my mom and told her "No, don't let me go" and her eyes filled with tears and my dad grabbed me and said "Sweetie girl, be good please. We love you and we'll see you soon"

I could not let go though, why should I have to? why was this happening to us? ... When Mary started to drive away, I turned to look out the back of her Jeep Cherokee. I watched everything get smaller and quickly disappear.. Mom and dad got smaller, they were replaced by dairy queen where we spent our Sunday afternoons, then the DQ was replaced by painting of the cow we always said “MOO” to, then the china star buffet we ate at with dad every Saturday, and I cried even harder when we passed the Maverick’s convenient store that was in front of our house. Edvan and I held hands and cried the entire drive "home” - Mary and Jeremy's home.

As I think back to this day, I still get a lump in my throat, it was never about what we were doing (Edvan and I). The adults didn’t reassure us, I feel they should have said “this isn’t your fault”, “it’s okay to be sad”, “you will be safe”, “this is temporary” … even if they did, it would not hurt any less, but at least my heart wouldn’t hurt so much. I feel guilty for not being stronger for my brother.

Every time I think back to this day it slows down, it feels real, and it puts a pain in my chest. This is the definition of trauma, a deeply disturbing experience. This experience has taught me to be grateful for my children and to always treat them as if it would be the last interaction I had with them.