It did happen.

It plays in my dreams and nightmares often. That one night, forever ago. It makes me feel so much guilt and shame, thinking and wishing that I could've and should've done more. What could I have done, though?

Laying in my very own daybed, (not a lot of kids are blessed with their very own room and bed). I had just awakened from a bad dream. (How ironic to wake from one, only to live one instead.) Doing what most children do, I called out for her. "Mommie!" As the amazing mother she was (is), no matter how tired she was or in how deep of sleep she might've been, she always heard us. She was always there. However, this time there was no answer. I called out again and again "mommie"... "mom"... this time I got a response but by him and not her. Which in itself was unusual, but I have always been a daddy's girl, I believe I still am, at least a little, anyway. Mom is always at the ready, so dad never has to worry, I guess. "She's busy right now Mija, go back to sleep". Thinking to myself, "that's not right, she's my mom". Even back then, I had a little more attitude than could fit within my little body. Half full of sass (what could be more important than your child... I have always been a little dramatic as well) and curiosity, I slowly got up and lowered myself out of bed. I tiptoed to the hallway, (not a long ways from my door), I heard muffled voices. As I got closer to the end of the hallway, my new-found secret ninja abilities surfaced. I was quieter than a mouse. I deliberately and cautiously peeked around the wall. At that moment, my whole body grew with confusion and dismay. There they were, my parents, in an entanglement of my future relationship issues. Becoming a major ingredient in the mixture of my childhood trauma's and emotional baggage. What was happening?!

Both my parents were naked. My father had a handful of my mother's hair in his hand. While his other hand held her, bent over with her arms behind her back. She was crying! My breathing started to shake, my eyes swelled with tears and my heart started to race. He was yelling at her! Whatever was being said was incomprehensible. I don't know if this was because I was so young, half sleep, or if my mind blocked it out as some form of protection. Nevertheless, knowing that this was NOT okay! A combination of feelings, that I am still trying to sort through to this day, started to arise. I wanted to save her, but fear, hurt and indecision had me frozen against the wall. I mean, come on, as an only 4 or 5-year-old, what could I have done?! What should I have done?! I should've done something, right?! I should've done something... Am so sorry, mom!

I returned to my bed without saying or doing anything. Not being able to recall how long it took me to fall back to sleep, am sure I did. I would like to believe that my mother eventually came to me that night. Eye's red and swollen, heart broken but worried about me. Thinking about it, I can not even imagine what she must have felt during this time. Questioning her choices... "I never thought this could happen", "How could this happen?", "I thought he loved me?!"

The hard decisions that had to be made afterwards, she endured alone, am sure. She's always been so independent. Thinking all of this was a dream for so long, I only wish I'd had a better understanding then, so I could've been there for her like she has been for me...so many times, and continuously still.

I love you, Mom!