The man who molested my children died last night He died unrepentant, blaming others, spouting lies. In the end he was trapped in his own denial, unable to find a new path, unable to change even if he'd wanted to. His adamant denial painted him into a corner from which he never dared escape.

He went to meet his maker still attacking those he betrayed, still calling them "liar," still denying harms he'd committed, still denying responsibility for his actions.  His narrative insisted he was the "real" victim pilloried by an "unfair" system. Nothing he had ever done was as bad as what "they" had done to him. His faithful defenders took up his refrain. They attacked and silenced all those who questioned his version blaming everyone but him. They needed to believe his protestations of "innocence" in order to escape the shame and blame that accrues to family members, in order to escape collateral damage.

After all these years, I don't know whether to mourn or celebrate his passing. I feel angry but mostly I feel sad that he saved all his sympathy for himself. He chose to inflict the same harm he once suffered in his childhood, upon his own children who trusted him. Even after his "memorial" service, his betrayals, his denials, continue to divide family members who must fall silent in each other's presence. We "keep the peace" fearing, should we speak out, there will be an attack from across the divide his actions and his denials continue to create. Thus the wounds he inflicted cycle on in this family even after his death. 

For with death, all chance he might someday say, "Sorry" or make difficult amends passes with him. In death, he too lost all opportunity to choose change, grow past his own "bad childhood," gain self-respect, recover and, in the process, put paid to his own trauma and help us all heal from festering wounds he inflicted.

Instead, with his ever-shifting denials, he unwittingly painted himself into a corner from which he couldn't escape.  His poor-me stories gathered a group of staunch believers/ intrepid defenders.  In his defense, they ruthlessly and self-righteously went on the attack. Even had he wanted to speak the truth, acknowledge harms done, change, recover, he dared not. After all, he'd lied to his defender's too. In doing so he betrayed their trust just as he'd betrayed the trust of the children who once trusted him not to take sexual advantage of their vulnerability. They wouldn't take kindly to knowing his stories had made fools of them, his lies had betrayed them too. How could they avoid shame and blame after defending him to the bitter end?

Thus, he'd glued himself in place. He had to stick by his lies if, for no other reason to continue in the good graces "protectors." prevent them from turning on him. He couldn't tell the truth, couldn't grow, couldn't experience a change of heart or reach out to make amends to victims.  So bought into their own role as "blameless defenders" his "saviors." If he admitted the truth, showed remorse, changed with age, they'd have been forced to see themselves differently also. What if in their quest to be seen as blameless in front of the neighbors, they abandoned him?

So, for whatever reason, he never admitted to truths necessary to seek change. Even after his death, his lies live on, assume a toxic afterlife. Family members still take sides, attack each other across the divide. His "saviors" repeat his version: He's their martyr.  Others, struggle on, "keeping the Peace," with their own truth still trapped, silenced by fear of more attacks. 

Should silence cease and truth rear it's ugly head, what would become of family then?

He's gone but t's not over. Why not take the easy way? Why not tiptoe off in silence now that he's dead?   Why speak up now?  Why post this blog on Not the Life?

Because this is not the Life I thought I was choosing when we two married. Because this family is drifting furth and further apart in the Silence.  What about the next generation of my family? He harmed his children in the same ways he was harmed as a child.  Even in death, the silenced legacy of sexual abuse cycles on in this family. Lies fester. 

Overcoming fear, speaking out, reaching out, matters because, (as I have learned on Not the Life,) sharing the truth has power to heal us all regardless which 'side' we're on. Speaking out means we have an opportunity to discover the 3rd path, find healing, find a restorative justice.  Staying silent only extends the harms done.

Perhaps if my Ex had dared admit the truth sooner, perhaps restorative justice might have restored him as well as the separated parts of this family. It might have offered him a path back and given him a real opportunity to exit the "corner' he'd painted himself (and this family.) He might have made a  new life before death took away his opportunity for change.

Did females in his family insist upon his claim of "innocence" because in their heart of hearts they believed "Once a sex offender, always a sex offender"?  Did they stifle the truth, attack his victims, because they believed no one "like that"could ever change? If so,  he kept up the charade and drank himself to death instead. 

I wonder how many more families, quick to spring to the defense of a loved one after the police knocked on the door, fail to see that in their adamant defense of his "innocence,' they require their loved to stay stuck in denial for the rest of his life their sakes as much as for his?

 Take care, Janet Mackie