Thursday, October 3, 2013

My Dear Rose, By LaRita Holden

I was born January 3rd, 1990. My mother named me Rose because of her dear love for Roses. Roses were beautiful and my mother told me every day that I was her beautiful Rose, sweet and lovely. My mother's name was Daisy. I got married at the age of 18. My mother had just lost her job as a housekeeper and was unable to pay the rent or buy food, so I had met Paul just in the nick of time. As soon as I turned 18, we were married 2 months later. Although Paul was 10 years older than me, I still fell for him instantly. My sister Lily was already in college in her 2nd year working on her Bachelor’s degree in Psychology. Lily was smart, and I always knew that I wanted to be like her one day. She was my beautiful big sister and was already excelling in life. She already had a job and her own apartment off campus. I looked up to her greatly, but I had plans of my own. Paul was everything that I ever wanted in a man. He was tall, dark skin, muscular, and was well established in life. Paul owned 2 auto shops. Business was good. The day I married him was the day I moved in his house. Paul had shown me things that I had never seen before. He knew how to wine and dine a lady; dinners, expensive gifts, cars, Paul paid for everything that I wanted. He even brought my mother a house. But all of that came with a price after a while. 5 months of living with & being married to Paul, I started to see a side of him I had never saw before. Although he was controlling and demanding, I didn't mind because he gave me everytHing I ever wanted and needed. Paul had even hit me a few times when he got mad, but he always made it up to me with gifts. And I accepted it because I knew he didn't really mean to do it. 5 years had passed and Paul and I were on and off with our relationship. The drinking had become more frequent and the beatings had become more severe. By now we had twins named Jacob and Jael who were 3yrs old. For the sake of Jacob and Jael having their father around, I always took Paul back, but he had done so much to hurt me. He cheated on me several times, broke my arm, busted my lip, burned my back with a lighter and broke my leg by pushing me down the stairs. Paul would come home drunk, accuse me of cheating and lying to him. He'd slap me, kick me, punch me, even tried to suffocate me with a pillow one day but he stopped once he saw Jacob screaming and crying at the bedroom door. One evening Paul came home from work upset. Things weren't going well with the auto shops, business was declining and Paul's drinking turned from every weekend to every night. Paul was upset because dinner was not made. Paul punched me in the eye, took my head and held my head under his arm in a choke hold. Minutes later the cops were banging on the door. Paul was arrested. He begged me not to press charges and promised he wouldn't do it again. We did counseling together and Paul took accountability classes. On my 23rd birthday, instead of being out celebrating, I was in the hospItal. Paul searched my phone that morning and saw a text message from a long time male school mate. Last thing I remembered was Paul beating me with a frying pan. I woke up in the hospital, not knowing how I had even got there. A nurse came to me and asked me questions. She asked about my mom, my dad and asked if I had siblings. I told her yes but I wasn't close to them. They were honestly fed up with me putting up with Paul's abuse, but I loved him, and I believed he could change, and I knew he loved me because he gave me everything that I needed. I couldn't tell the nurse this so I just told her that I was fine and that I had to get back to my children. I was honestly scared too. Paul told me he would kill me if I ever told anyone he hit me. That night I went home. Paul apologized. I ran in looking for the kids. He said he had dropped them off to my mother's house. I ran to the phone to call my mom. She was hysterical when she heard my voice. I told her not to worry, that I was fine and had just passed out after feeling a little dizzy this morning. She said the children were sound asleep and I told her I would call her back. That night was a night I would never forget. Paul said he couldn't get the image of the text message out of his mind, plus of course he had been drinking. I pleaded with Paul that it was completely innocent, a school mate who was like a brother to me my entire childhood. Paul yelled at me, called me worthless, a slut and a whore. He said I was a good for nothing and didn't deserve to be treated good because I was a cheater and disrespectful to him. Paul punched me. Blood ran from my nose. I ran as fast as I could. He caught me and stomped me in the back which seemed like forever. Last thing I remember was Paul wrapping his hands around my neck and saying," You will pay for disrespecting me." I could see the anger and rage in his eyes. June 28, 2013 was my funeral. I lived a short life, but I didn’t live the way that I should have. I was looking forward to living longer, raising my children, being happy and making my mother proud of me. I confused love with someone taking care of me and buying me gifts, but I’m gone now, and I can’t take those gifts with me. My mother came up to my casket and said, “ My dear Rose, you are as beautiful now as the day you were born, my beautiful Rose, sweet and lovely. May you rest in peace. I am sad that you are no longer with us, but I am at peace with you no longer in pain and suffering. If you or someone you know is in abusive relationship please tell them domestic violence is not love. Help them to get out before it’s too late. EDV- End Domestic Violence....... Love, Rose......Copyright ©2013 LaRita Holden