For the past week or more, I have been trying to write an article on lies. Lying and where do lies come from. I have been stuck in my writing process. I also have had severe back pain. I go to my first area of relief which is PureBioenergy Healing Therapy. The thing about PureBioenergy Healing Therapy is that it heals on all levels. This means the emotional, mental, and spiritual areas of our being are addressed as well as the physical.
In this process of healing, I uncover a lie that I have been living. I chose to leave my “past life” as I call it in the past. I thought that if I don’t think about it anymore, it will not affect me. In some ways, this is true. I do not have the anxiety I experienced prior to leaving my ex-husband. I present outwardly as someone who can make decisions, albeit in a slower fashion than most. I have a quick wit and enjoy making people laugh.
I am a sensitive. One of those people who feels things deeply. When someone shares their story, I can truly empathize. The month of October holds some strong emotional ties for me. My first marriage was in October, my beautiful daughter was born in October. And the apple incident happened in October.
When my daughter was in kindergarten, there was a bright sunny Saturday morning. My then husband had gone out with his friends on a motorcycle ride which was often his Saturday and Sunday morning routine. My friend, Maryon had invited my daughter and myself to go with her and her daughters to an apple orchard to pick apples. My ex-husband knew we were going to the orchard.
It was a beautiful, warm sunny day. The girls enjoyed picking the apples off the shorter trees and finding ripe red ones on the ground. My daughter and I picked a full bushel of apples. I was excited to have them to eat fresh as a snack. I make a great apple pie, with my Mom’s pie crust recipe, and apple crisp was often a breakfast food in my house.
Maryon’s daughters were older than my daughter. They wanted us to join them at the Spooky Farm which was a farm with a haunted house exhibit and where one could buy pumpkins.
I had tried to phone my ex to let him know we would be out later than originally planned. I Knew this was important. He did not answer the call. I knew it was close to lunch time and I had not left him a suitable lunch. My daughter and I had eaten enough apples, so we were not hungry. We headed out with our friends to the Spooky Farm. I did not realize how far away from our home this Spooky Farm was, having never been there.
I had a feeling of dread as I realized the time was now much later than I had said I would be home. We stayed a very short time at the farm. My daughter was now starting to pick up on my anxiety. She was happy to leave the Spooky Farm. We drove home. As soon as I drove up the driveway, I knew we were in trouble.
My ex-husband was furious that I had not been home when he got home from his ride. He was swearing at us before we got into the house. He sent my daughter upstairs to her room.
I had carried the bushel of apples we had picked into the kitchen. In his rage, he proceeded to throw every apple from the bushel at me. I could not talk to him or stop the madness. I had round apple shaped bruises on my back, my legs, my arms for weeks afterward. The beautiful red apples we so carefully picked, were splattered all over the kitchen. Every single apple was thrown. Then he left. I cleaned up all the smashed apples. Those that were salvageable I made into apple sauce. Months later I would find bits of dried apple under the fridge.
I never went apple picking again.
The irony is that I was worried that someone might find out what had happened. That I had made my husband that angry. I did not want my daughter to tell her teacher or anyone what had happened. I did not tell anyone till years later in therapy.
I share this story now because the shame, fear, anxiety I had that day, I know is felt by another woman. I know my daughter carries the pain of that day.
We are not responsible for someone else’s misplaced anger. We did nothing wrong. We do not need to lie to cover the pain caused by another’s actions. It happened. It is true. It is sad. It is so sad that a beautiful, sunny fall day has such a blight on it. The smell of fresh picked apple is bittersweet to me.