I didn’t want to get you sidetracked on my last post. I was talking about Al and wanted to stick to it.
While we were at Culver’s it was about 12:30. A good time on a Sunday to people watch. It was very crowded and I was thankful for the staff and visitors who helped open doors to get his wheel chair in and out. Also for checking out the Men’s restroom to make sure the coast was clear before barging in on some guy and scaring him so he couldn’t pee.
I love to people watch. If I can go to a mall and shop for a bit and spend more time sitting and people watching, this is what I would do. Today there were many people who had left church and headed here to eat.
It was so cute to see little girls in pretty dresses and white lacy anklets. Sort of reminded me of myself when I was little. There were ladies in dresses and men in suits. There were the relaxing folks with shorts and tank tops on.
I was really enjoying myself between keeping an eye on Al’s chewing. There was this one couple though that I found it hard to mind my manners. I wanted to stare but I had to do it politely. They had to be young, well to me young. They were probably in their late twenties. I could tell from their outfits that they also had just left church to come here to eat. They had one daughter who was probably around 7 and another baby in a car seat. This baby wasn’t old enough to sit up yet. Cute little kids.
What gave me mixed feelings was my mind was thinking, nice church folks, pretty clothes, family, togetherness, comforting.
Then the baby would cry. I could see from my view that the Mama was trying to console the baby without having to pick he/she up, but the baby didn’t stop fussing. This was the first glimpse I got of mixed emotions. This is when the mixed emotions started flaring up.
Each and every time the baby cried, the Mama’s eyes got huge and she stared at her husband‘s face. The little girl became very quiet and stayed frozen in her seat. Finally the mom picked up the baby and gave up her hot food to comfort the little one.
The whole time she kept her eyes glued to her husband. There were no smiles or laughter or chatter. The baby quieted down and she laid it back in its little seat. Once again it cried. Instantly her eyes went to her husband again.
There was something familiar to me in that look of hers. It reminded me of when I was married to my last husband and I was always afraid of doing the wrong thing. The heart races, the breathing becomes rapid, but silence falls all around them and fear takes over.
Finally after the husband had finished his meal he took the baby from Mom. She could now eat her cold lunch. After he got the baby quiet the Mom’s eyes returned to normal. The little girl started to speak once again.
I felt eerie inside. I wanted to go over and ask the Mom or the little girl if they were safe, but I didn’t. I let it sit inside of me and stir like red-hot embers. I didn’t have any evidence.
I watched them leave and put my full attention back on Al. I felt ugly inside for not doing anything. There was a part of me that needed proof before I stuck my neck out. The only proof I had was my own memories of when my husband was not a very nice man, which is why I divorced him.
Kids or no kids if you are in a relationship that you don’t feel safe at all times, for heaven’s sake, get out. Get out and save your life, your sanity, and your children, if there are any. If you can’t get out because of no funds, do what I did. Save money until you can get out. I told my kids what was going on and I felt better because I had more pairs of eyes watching my life go by. If worse situation comes, walk out the door, call the neighbor, or call the police. Don’t hang around for love or security, you won’t find it.
I felt like something was going on inside that family, and I asked God to watch over that wife, mother and children, because all I had to go on was instincts.
Remember, abuse can happen to anyone. Church going people, teachers, preacher’s kids, your next door neighbor, your boss’s family, anywhere and anytime always be a good people watcher.
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