Mom took me to a doctor and he told me I had ulcers. My body turned against me and refused to give me my period.Every month my Mom would buy more tampons and I’d hide them in the bathroom cabinet with a year’s worth of unopened boxes.Dad had sent the time and location for the meet-up, expecting a quickie.When he realized it was his two sons in the car, and not the guy who had responded to his personal ad, he hit the gas and his tires screeched as he took off in the opposite direction.To accept the truth was to lose everything I’d ever known and I was afraid of what I would be left with. I hid the secret inside of me but it began to take a toll.First there were blinding headaches so intense I’d be curled up on the bathroom floor, hugging the toilet.She had a lot of opinions on how other people should raise their children and had been outraged when our church opened a daycare center.It was a symptom of feminism and put everyone in jeopardy by enabling women to go back to work.
After years of trying, we had finally caught my father soliciting sex from strangers.
This was not the way my father would have written our story.
In the Christian parenting books he authored, we were always the perfect family.
They sped after him until he stopped just as abruptly as he’d taken off.
They pulled up to him like they were waiting at a stoplight.