We Don’t Do That to Family
By: J.C. Jackson (Week 2: Creative Nonfiction) I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to honor lately. How it was ingrained in me--this deep rooted need to respect one's elders at all cost. This need was etched into my essence and I appreciate the artist that stenciled this thought into me. Today I thought about my Uncle. He was my Great Uncle. He’s passed and gone somewhere I’m not sure of. His sins were so heavy I questioned whether Christ’s back could have carried the weight of his sins. If I’m being honest, I question if Christ's eyes could even look at him. He was a Pedophile. A Habitual Pedophile A Legendary Pedophile We never discuss it. Our family. Never openly. Always in secret between two family members. Quickly whispered. Legendary abuse passed down from generation to generation. From child to parent. Neighbor to neighbor. Bedtime stories of warnings to not visit that house. Whispering, “Don’t sit on that man’s lap!”. But no one spoke it out loud. He kept building legends. Making a name for himself. Tearing apart the souls of little boys and little girls. My Uncle. He was my Great Uncle. We never told anyone. Never ratted him out because, “We don’t do that to family.”. Do what? I always wondered. Hold family accountable? Make family pay for their sins? When he died I thought about repentance. How a part of repentance is confession and changing. I thought about how Jesus does hold you accountable when those confess and change ingredients don’t form in your heart. I thought about how it’s a shame we, our family, don't hold family accountable. Because Jesus sure does. My Uncle. My Great Uncle. He’s probably burning in Hell right now. Because, “We don’t do that to family’.
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