Last Saturday, he sent her to the hospital. He slammed her arm in the door to the point everyone thought it was broken and then wouldn't let her leave the house. Afterward, he made her beg to be taken to the emergency room.
It wasn't the first time the police were called. It was the first time neither of them could cover it up, excuse it away, charm it back behind closed doors.
I'm sitting here, trying to find the words to explain just what he did, what it was like, and have just decided that I can't. It is impossible. The words I can find though, are the words that will follow her as she moves forward. And is she ever moving forward.
She is stronger after only one week than I have seen her in sixteen years. She is a better mother than she's been in thirteen years. She is more resolved than I've seen her ever. This will not happen again.
Is it easy? Of course not. Is she okay? Of course not ~ except that she is. Her brother said that maybe things were going as well as they could be, and I was able to reassure him that they were going even three baby steps better than that.
It's been a long week. It's going to be a longer...however many months the state requires and then he drags this out. She will go through times when she is weaker than she is right now. She will only continue to get stronger. She is already surrounding herself with better people, people who know the difference between love and control. People who understand that her being at her best is a good thing, not a threat. People who want her to succeed, not fail.
I watched her today at the beach, playing with her children, smiling and laughing and at peace. We were barely adults ourselves the last time I saw her like that. I've missed my friend. It's good to have her back.
It's been a long week. But as I was telling the Princess Kitty, as scary and sad as this week has been, this one week has made every day for the rest of our lives so much better.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.