top of page
Writer's pictureChristina Kearns

Childhood Trauma

Riding my bike home from school was one of the best feelings I had as a kid. The wind blowing on my face and not a care in the world. I was about nine years old when I came home one day after school searching for my mom. She was no where to be found. This was not like my mom. She babysat kids and our house was full of chaos. Somehow, I still came home to a quiet house. Cell phones were not common or if they were I had never witnessed one. I ran to the hall to pick up the home phone. To this day, I cannot tell you who I called.. The person on the other end of the line told me my mom would be home any minute. It turned out my mom was at the hospital with T and C. T was probably only 11 at the time and C maybe 15.. I should give them names since they are a big part of my story. We will call T, Tammie and C Camren. Anyhow, Tammie and Camren came home from the hospital with my mom that day. Tammie had bandages down the side of her head. She had told me our dad threw a coffee cup at her. I couldn't help but cry with her. Tammie loved our dad. It didn't matter what he did to her. She searched for his approval, his love, his affection. She craved it more than any of us girls and ultimately, he destroyed her.


It was strange to see my mom come home from the hospital with my sisters because these were my sisters from my dad's side. My parents split up when I was a baby. I have no memories of us ever being a real "family", but one thing I do remember is my mom loving my sisters. If my dad was in a good mood he would let them come visit, but if he wasn't, we didn't see each other. I didn't stay at my dad's much, because my mom did her best to protect me from him. She tried to get my sisters when she could. They didn't have a mother figure and honestly they needed her love and affection more than anything. My dad did not show love or affection to any of us. This was our fist interaction with CPS. In legal terms, my mom became Tammie and Camren's "Foster Mom". Tammie and Camren grew up calling my mom "mom" prior to going into foster care, because their biological mother abandoned them when Tammie was still in diapers. They felt secure and loved by my mom. I saw relief in their eyes being with us. This is important to note because it helps shapes their perspective on life due to the childhood trauma they endured.


Fran, my oldest sister on my dad's side was no where in sight. CPS only rescued Tammie and Camren. Eventually I found out Fran ran away. I don't blame her though. Her childhood was literal hell. Fran was kind and loving. All I ever wanted for her was peace. From the outside looking in, my dad hated her. I don't know why, but his actions showed hate. He was physically and emotionally abusive to her and Tammie more than anyone. The most traumatic experience that is still stuck in my memory today would be the time our dad starting screaming at 2 in the morning.. We were sound asleep in the back room of his green and white trailer house. He came through the front door of the house and demanded Fran and Tammie to get out of bed at 2am and explain to him WHY his shop was not cleaned. As they made their way into the living room, pass the green and white tile, he begin to throw his tools at my sisters. In that moment, our dad looked like a monster.. As I saw the hammer, screw driver, wrench and many more tools hit

the wall, I feared for, not only their lives, but mine as well. I'm not even sure that Fran or Tammie flinched.. This was their daily life. It seemed like this was their "normal". I don't write this to make our dad sound like a horrible human being. I'm sure it's just history repeating itself. I don't know much about his childhood, but I've heard he dealt with his own fair share of trauma. I write this for you to keep grace in mind when you hear about the decisions we all make later on in life.


122 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page