san diego

Most people consider the moment they lost their innocence the day they lost their virginity, the moment they witnessed a horrific crime, or the moment they learned deception. I consider my moment of losing my innocence to be when I saw my parents as people, and was told to keep deep dark secrets (a pattern I was later told to continue). I consider it to be the moment when I experienced something I could not understand and was told I had to pretend it never happened.

I do not believe that the walls of our home had ever felt the tension within it's walls like it had that day.

Our family was, as far as I knew, the family of a typical Military officer. My brother was in sports, and I was in many activities, and the whole family supported everyone at those events. My parents had dinner parties, we children had birthday parties, and we always went on family vacations. I was in ballet and girl scouts, did home plays in the neighborhood, and even had lemonade stands on occasion.

My parents had called my brother and I to the dining room table for a discussion. Such a moment was foreign to my brother and I. Our family was not one to have family meetings, in fact, even dinners with our whole family at the dining room table was an unfamiliar phenomenon. Typically my brother, mother and I all ate dinner before my father ever returned home due to his demanding work hours. This was a definite exception.

It was an awkward moment. Suddenly our dining room felt more like a museum than a place of family comfort. I sat in a chair swinging my legs underneath the chair, uncertain of how I should even behave in such a moment. I had been having a good day hiding in my room playing records of musicals of the past, fantasizing the character lives and living in my own world of imagination. But now, I felt something was different. Being a Navy brat, I had the feeling that I was about to be told of a new move, since they were pretty consistent in my life.

I looked to my mother, that was when I noticed the redness in her eyes. She had been crying. I looked to my father. He had a stern face, but not like when he was mad and his bottom lip came out, this was one of seriousness but mixed with a dread and sadness. My brother kicked me in annoyance. We could barely sit this close without one of us antagonizing the other. I glared back at him showing my disdain.

My mother snapped her fingers to capture our attention. She then spoke softly in the same soft tone she did when she wanted us to hear her after we just received a punishment and wanted us to understand why, "We have something to share with you."

Again, unable to grasp the complexity or seriousness of the situation, my brother and I exchanged kicks under the table with me getting a prime dig to his calf. I saw him wince and felt a moment of glory. Our under the table wrestling was met with silence. We sensed the tension, and neither really wished to admit the dread we suddenly felt.

My father's lip started to come out, and we both composed ourselves fearing words of reprimand.

"Your father and I are getting a divorce." Mother said in hesitant words.

My feet suddenly felt like dead weights instead of missiles aimed for my brother's legs. Without even looking to him, I could sense he had the same sudden comprehension of our new reality.

The words just flowed out of both of my parent's mouth at that point. I couldn't even tell you who said what or what was said. Once that initial word divorce came out, I was suddenly a student in Charlie Brown's class hearing his teacher saying a mix of "mwha mwha mwha mwha mwha...pack your things...mwha mwha mwha...stay with Gonnie..." The words seemed to go on, but I didn't absorb anything as I sat their numb. I never heard my parent's fight. We were a happy family. This was what happened to other family's not ours. They were talking, but I didn't hear them. I only heard my own thoughts of confusion and disbelief.

I was suddenly jolted by another kick from my brother. For once it wasn't out of annoyance but to jolt me to reality. My mother was looking at me and repeating her last statement. "Now go pack up a few things."

My brother and I slowly headed down the hallway to our bedrooms, not even exchanging the nasty looks we typically did. The wind had been taken out of each of us, and neither dared to look at the other to show we didn't know how to handle the news we had been given. My brother and I never really got along, but at this moment I kept looking at his back hoping he would turn around and give me a look of encouragement. He kept walking forward.

I went into my room and started putting a few outfits and a few toys into my bag. I looked around my room and didn't know how I could pack up my life in the one suitcase I was given. How could I possibly choose what belongings meant most when they all were a part of me. I had my doll collection, and horse collection perfectly poised on the shelf each placed in such a manner which none showed greater glory over the other. I always wanted to make sure no toy felt less loved than another. I even rotated the stuffed animals I slept with at night. Suddenly I had to pick. In a moment I had to fit my life within a suitcase.

My mother came into my room and assured me that the rest of my belongings would join me eventually that I would have all of my belongings again. As comforting as her voice was, that didn't comfort me. It wouldn't be here. It wouldn't be in my room with daisy's on the wall, with the pretend stage that I performed in front of. I looked at her and asked her why.

She returned my look with a teary eyed face, and told me people just change.

I wanted to tell my friends I was leaving, but was told I couldn't. I was leaving...and just leaving. I couldn't tell my friends, couldn't say goodbye to anyone. I was not permitted to call any friend or exchange addresses like I had always done when we moved before. I was denied the friendship departing hug I always shared when I had moved anytime before. I felt like I was suddenly one of those kids in a movie that has to be in the witness protection program, but without anyone in my family committing a crime other than divorce.

My brother and I packed up and my mother gathered her bags and we headed to the airport.

Usually the airport is an exciting place for a child. However I felt none of that excitement. The constant flow of people around me felt like a blur. A whole world of people traveling from one place to another escaped me completely. My brother who typically tormented me in one way or another ignored me so much he too was a blur.

We found three seats we could sit in. They were like all airport chairs at the time, hard, white, and reminding me of cut out eggs. We sat there. All silent. I began to dream that I was one of the characters in the books I read. This made more sense with one of my book characters than me. Playing in my room I always pretended my bed was my stage and would pretend like I was other people, but this time I wasn't on my bed, and a simple knock on my door wouldn't return me to my reality.

Suddenly my father appeared. He got on his knees before my mother begging her to return home with him.I had never seen my father cry before this moment. Tears were falling down his cheeks. I saw a vulnerable dad which I had never seen. My dad was a strong military officer and always showed that face. My mother sat there turning her head aside several times stiffining up with determination. I saw an emotional exchange I had never seen before between my parents, and one I knew should be theirs and theirs alone. I moved away a feeling invasive and feeling I was witnessing something I shouldn't. My dad cried, and then my mom cried. I saw a collection of emotions...anger, sadness, love, regret, and hopefulness.

My parents then called my brother and I together. They embraced us and told us we were going back home. They told us all was okay again.

We were then told we were not to tell anyone this happened. This did not happen. I looked at them with a face of question, and my mother confirmed that we were not to ever tell anyone this happened.

I was happy with the resolution, so I agreed.

We went home and pretended like it never happened.

Forget the first most traumatic event in your life and never tell a soul and never discuss it again. It never happened. I think that was the day innocence truly left my life. I was 10, and it never happened.