I’m Guilty of Hypocrisy

I’m Drowning…

I was thrown a second float.

TWO lifelines I was given. . .

and yet. . .

I turned away.

Now that I’m drowning though,

I regret it.

With the sting of my imperfection left,

Another lesson I have learned.

I Heard Screaming and Yelling. . .

. . . As I was leaving the store today and it was quite clear it was out of anger. “Some girl is having an argument with her boyfriend or something,” I thought, but when I approached my car, I realized she was only two cars down from where I was parked and she wasn’t yelling at another adult.

She wasn’t yelling at an equal; someone with the same life experience.

She was yelling, rather threateningly, at her son, no older than about eight.

(I also have an eight year old son)

Let’s pause here a moment. . . I have yelled at my children, but it’s rare and I try not to. I don’t agree with it, but I definitely understand how it happens. This yelling, however, so full of. . .

COLD,

SELFISH. . .

HATRED

And it turned my stomach and made my pour pound instantly.

Innocent, even inferior in ways, but no doubt a fearful child,

I heard him cry from the backseat. I almost rose up out of my car and walked her way, imagining myself as some type of hero, I’m sure, but something stopped me and I sat still.

If I’m being honest, I’m on the fence about the Department of Children’s services (aka protective services). They’ve gotten children out of some really violent situations that couldn’t possibly ever end well, but I know they’re guilty of splitting up families who were undeserving of such judgement too.

For a moment though (this is something I’ve never had an urge to do- it always felt too extreme and deadly serious), but out of sudden and severe panic, I almost made that call today.

Then I heard the woman yell over my thoughts, “f*cking let the police come! I don’t give a f*ck! I’ll beat your ass before they get here, you little f*cking sh*t!”

I so badly wanted to actually call the police!

So why didn’t I?

I didn’t stop to contemplate this decision for her sake, but in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but wonder what they could actually do for the boy.

I mean could they…

Find him a new mom?

Take him away from all that he knows and put him in the system?

Could anything be proven?

And with those thoughts, I watched her walk away with him and I only sat there in shock.

I sat there.

I backed out slowly, staring at her license plate. . .

Comtemplating writing down the digits, another idea hit me! I’d write her a note! I’d really get her thinking about her treatment! As I thought about what I’d say to her, I drove away.

In the end….

I did nothing!

Nothing at all…

and I’m ashamed of it.

And later on in the evening, I passed by a woman, walking alone along a highway. I thought nothing much of it until her thumb went up. I realized; she was obviously hitchhiking. It was too late to stop then, but her face flashed in my mind as I drove on and I kept telling myself to turn around! I meant to, didn’t I?

What does it matter, if I meant to? The point is, I didn’t.

Twice I’ve denied, in just a day, hands that came up to grab me and I turned them away.

…Their tears haunt me this evening.

My life. My choice.

And I chose wrong.

But I have learned.

I wish I had done SOMETHING and I’m not sure why I didn’t exactly, but I can’t change it now. I only hope that somewhere out there that mother hears me somehow, someway, the things she should really know. . .

You chose wrong.

From deep within the Labyrinth of my heart,

-Lakin