September 11, 1998 is the day that ended 26 years
of living in domestic violence. I call it the “main event,”
– the night my husband tried to kill me. Two shots rang out
from a 357 magnum that struck inches from me. He missed. My son
saved my life; he knocked his father out. The police came. They
left a pamphlet for me about domestic violence and my husband went
to the hospital. I read that pamphlet and everything rang true.
This way of living had become so normal for my children and me
that it wasn’t even the first time he’d pulled out a
gun. We’d learned to survive; we knew what to say, when to
say it and when not to say anything. Sometimes it didn’t matter
because he still exploded. The verbal abuse was daily, the physical
abuse at least once a week.
But that night I was forced to do something. The detectives took
the attempted homicide charge very seriously. I chose not to press
charges, but the people of the state of California took it out of
my hands and pressed charges anyway. They arrested him and he was
incarcerated for almost a year. The time away from him gave me a
chance to make decisions. Otherwise, I couldn’t have gotten
out of the relationship.
Until that night, I hadn’t realized the toll domestic violence
was taking on another generation of my family: my grandchildren.
My daughter-in-law had just nursed my granddaughter and taken her
upstairs to bed before the shooting. This helped me come to my senses.
I had suppressed so much over the years that I had to re-program
how I lived my life. The local domestic violence community agency
was a big help. I started taking advantage of the support services
that I had needed for years.
Domestic violence happens to those whom you would least expect.
People thought we were the perfect family. No one knew the extreme
abuse we were living in. I worked in the community. I was an advocate
for youth and the arts. My children were talented, excelled in the
arts and did well at school, but they were not spared the scars
of an abusive home. As young adults, they struggle to live a normal
life. I feel and see how those scars are affecting their lives and
it is very painful for me. A lot of people don’t realize that
domestic violence can affect the children for the rest of their
lives.
Five years have passed and I am still working to heal my wounds.
I have remarried and found a wonderful man that loves and respects
me. We have our challenges because I still have trouble trusting
and worry that I’ll get hurt. But overall I’m very happy
and I’m proud of my resilience. I am a survivor.
49 year old
Hispanic female
Mother of 3
Grandmother of 5
Kaiser Permanente Employee
