Reunion Online

I was telling a friend recently about my emotional reaction the first time I heard the Joyful Heart Foundation’s PSA that talks about about engaging men to "end violence against all people, men women and children."

As we're getting ready to celebrate all the fathers, grandfathers, father-figures, uncles, brothers and partners in our lives this Father's Day, we wanted to take a moment and recognize the men who are fearlessly joining the movement to end violence and abuse. The parents and caregivers who are, every day, doing their part to instill love and respect for one another in their children's hearts. The brothers, sons and partners who rise up to intervene, to prevent and to say no more to violence. The advocates and survivors who let others—men and women alike—know that they are not alone on their healing journeys, that there are resources and support and that sexual assault, domestic violence and child abuse are issues that affect all of us.

The Sandusky sexual abuse trial is about to begin and the saga will unfold on the Internet, mainstream news and in the tabloids. Many stories will be told, exposed and exploited even with the restrictions on photography, texting, video and more imposed by the court. The witnesses will be put to credibility and reliability tests, memories will be challenged and the accused will sit in the courtroom confronted by his victim/accusers.

The commencement speaker at my niece’s graduation this past weekend startled some in the audience when he noted that having to overcome adversity is a normal part of a achieving a fulfilling life.

 I often find myself in awe, but somehow not totally surprised, that turning towards the issues sexual assault, domestic violence and child abuse is often so hopeful, so joyful. Maybe you sometimes find yourself thinking the same. It's often inexplicable, or at the very least, difficult to put into words as to why this is. And it can certainly be a strange thing to feel—and to write at this very moment—but it's true. And last Wednesday evening was no exception.

One day last summer I was working in my front garden--part of my notion of having vegetable garden domination on my little plot of earth. I was tending the rows of tomatoes, basil, beets and kale, when an older woman, dressed in black, stopped and started to chastise me about my weeding technique.

I didn’t really understand her, as her English was not so good and my Italian is -- ahem -- non-existent. Still, she showed me, good naturedly, the proper technique of tilling the earth.

Why haven't I worked through all these issues? Why am I still not healed?

Most of us who are survivors ask ourselves these questions many times. "I've been on this journey for five years. When does it end?"

They are the questions we ask on our worst days.