I am about to write
down is something that I have never told a single soul, ever. There is
no logical reason for me
to have kept this secret for as long as I
only my own doubts, insecurities and guilt. Below are the events that
place so long ago in my life, that now cause so many mixed emotions
feelings that come from
doubting if I did the right thing by not telling anyone, the
that result in my not trusting people, the guilt that comes from
if this man ever did this to anyone else, because I didn't tell. This
my story, exactly as it happened.
were different when
I was growing up, we walked all over town without worrying that we
be abducted or that anyone would "hurt" us. I had never even heard the
words "molestation" or "child sexual abuse". My father had died
I lived at home with my mother and brothers and sisters. We live in a
quiet town, where we could have coined the phrase "Nothing ever happens
I was a little girl,
about 12 years old, I was visiting my Uncle at his place of business,
was a business he owned in our town. I remember so much about that day,
yet over time, I would learn to forget it all, not really forget so
as "put away" the memories that now haunt me on a daily basis.
remember it was a
cool day, I was wearing long sleeves and jeans. I remember I had
conversations with people, I remember the look on my Uncles face, and I
fully remember the feeling of never wanting to go into that business or
be alone with my Uncle ever again.
remember I was wearing a
pair of jeans and brown shirt with purplish flowers all over it. The
was a button up the front shirt and the sleeves had button up cuffs. I
was discussing my shoe size with an employee there who refused to
that I wore a 3 1/2 boys little children's shoe. I took my shoe off and
showed him the size on the inside. My shoes were those kind which were
blue and had the three white stripes on both sides. I remember, I loved
put my shoe back on and
decided that I need to wash my hands. I walked to the bathroom, which
that time had a door that didn't close automatically like the doors do
now. I left the door open since I was only washing my hands. I turned
to leave the bathroom and my Uncle was standing in the doorway smiling.
I tried to leave but he had other plans for me.
asked me what I was doing
and I told him I was washing my hands. I can still see him standing
leaning a little out the door, looking in both directions. I was in
of him and he took me by the shoulders and turned me around and started
to tickle me under my arms. I thought nothing of this and tried to get
past him to leave the bathroom. Once again he checked both directions
at the same time his hands were making their way down the front of my
I was 12 years old and he was my Uncle, he was well over six feet tall,
towering over me. I trusted him, that was a mistake on my part.
being only 12, I was physically
developed in such a way that my body was more "mature" than I was. I am
sure I don't need to go into details, I will say that though I did
to push the memories of this incident to the back of my mind for many
after remembering, I will never forget the feeling of his hands on my
and the way he made me feel bad that day.
Uncle kept me in the bathroom
for a couple of minutes and then for some reason he pulled his hands
of my shirt and let me pass him. I left and made a promise to myself
I would NEVER be alone with my
Uncle again. I kept that promise even
the events faded and slept in the back of my mind.
this day and what
happened, was pushed to the back of my memory. Years later, this
locked away somewhere in my memory, I called and asked my Uncle to give
me away at my wedding, he was more than happy to do so. I had stored
memory of what he did to me in safe place and I didn't even think about
it that day. Today, I wonder if HE
was thinking about it back then.
was going along the way
that life tends to do. I had a son, and eventually ended up divorcing
man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. My son and I were
doing very well even while the years flew by. I met a man and I was
that he was the "one". It turns out he was. We later married and are
married to this day, however, before we married, other things happened.
day came the news that
my Uncle was dying of cancer. I must tell you that I DID love my Uncle
even after what he did to me. I shamefully admit that at the time I
of his being diagnosed with Cancer, my thoughts were not "Oh my God,
going to die" or "My poor Aunt". None of those kinds of thoughts were
where near me. My very first thought was "He's never told me he was
for what he did to me, and now he's going to die". That was the day I
all of the memories of that day long ago to wake up and find their way
back into my mind.
months later I was
visiting my Uncle in the hospital, the one and only time I could bring
myself to go see him. His life was basically over and his only comfort
was a Morphine drip to ease his pain. In the room, people had gathered
and were talking about this or that. I walked over to my Uncle and
down at him, expressionless. I wanted him to tell me he was sorry. I
him to let me know, in some way, that he regretted what he had done to
me that day all those years ago. I selfishly wanted HIS pain to
put aside for just a few minutes, and MY
pain to be taken away or at
to be eased by hearing him say the words "I'm Sorry". It would not
Uncle died and at the funeral
home, I stood over his casket and again, very selfishly, all I could
was pain for myself and I remember leaving the funeral knowing this
be the last time I ever saw my Uncle. As much as I love my Aunt, and I
did feel badly for her, the very last thought I had while walking away
was "He never said I'm Sorry".
identity of this person
has been kept private at her request.
person who this story
is about has since telling it here, told a few, very trusted,
other people about
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