When I first uncovered the family secret, I hadn’t had any real contact with my family for 16 years. I couldn’t exactly call them up and be all ” Heeeeey! What’s with the all the rape and murder?” I wasn’t immediately keen to talk to them anyway, save for possibly my sister, but as time went on an idea began to sprout inside my head. An idea that involved contact.
It seemed ridiculous at first because it was so, so simple but before long it became A THING and my brain added it to the its running list of very important tasks.
Tell my parents that I KNOW.
That’s all I needed to do.
This wasn’t a need to confront them and release a bunch of energy on them. It felt vital to tell them their secret was out, definitely not safe with me and then move on. It was bewildering to me how something so small felt so critical but I’ve learned to trust myself over the years. If that wee thing was important, I needed to honour it.
Now, unless I conduct a séance, telling my dad was out of the question. Father Murderer had died in 2014. But my mother, the murderer marrier (it’s totally a word!) was alive and thus she became my focus.
I figured a letter would be best as the thought of speaking to that woman was revolting, my bestie suggested I send it registered mail and that’s exactly what I did.
It took me about two weeks to get it just right. First, I wrote the letter every night in my head as I was falling asleep, ha ha ha! Of course this was involuntary but it was really, really important. I needed to get that vile shit out of my head. It wasn’t mine anyway!
Then, I put pen to paper and ripped through two legal pads in my attempt to get it just right. I didn’t want to be rude or mean because that never feels good no matter how justified but it took me awhile to get there, let me tell ya! In the meantime I’d grown really curious about the whole situation from my mother’s end.
My heart wasn’t set on getting an answer though because A. I knew she’d never tell me anything. Her favourite saying being ” Deny, Deny, Deny” I’m fairly certain she’s going to her grave with the story. B. Liars lie. There was no way I’d believe a damn word of what she said, even if she did respond. But I was definitely curious and I wanted to create a more fertile ground in case she decided to unload what must be a very heavy weight.
I also knew that I’d be talking about this and telling MY story. I felt it only fair to give her a chance to say her peace before I did so.
Sooooo, the letter.
I simply addressed her by our former last name – Huculak- told her that I knew everything and if she ever wanted to tell her version of the story she was welcome to contact me. I then gave that woman my freaking home address and my email address. Aaaahhhh! After not allowing her any access to me for 16 years, I freely gave that information out! Yes I did.
That was a little a scary. My inner child was definitely not comfortable doing that but I persevered and the icky feeling was replaced with something else. I felt like I was on a mission from my higher self. When I handed the letter over at the post office, I levelled up. My daughter offered up her address -sweet child that she is- but I knew I’d be able to handle any negative repercussions. Life has taught me that much. Plus, it was an integrity thing for me. I wasn’t hiding anything.
To date and true to form, she’s never responded. To date the only thing she’s done has been to orchestrate a weak attempt to discredit and gaslight me. Totally on brand for her. No surprise there. BUT the most important thing is this:
On April 13, 2021 Mother Murderer Marrier, went down to the post office, showed her ID confirming her identity and picked up the letter I sent her with the accompanying newspaper articles pertaining to my father’s crime.
She knows that I know.
Moving on. ❤