That moment when “trust” is broken…

Responsibilities to family take 2nd place to an obsession. No time limit, gone for hours on end. She pleaded for him to stay one day. He shakes his butt at her, disrespecting her. She pulls him down to plead further. He hits her in the jaw with force. She does not hit back. The trust was broken. Love is gone. Never to be built again.

A child overhears a conversation between his mom’s friend and a storeclerk about an upcoming meeting. The child tells his mom. She confronts the friend, he denies and lies about the conversation. She checks on where he was supposed to be. She goes to another location where he is with the storeclerk. The trust is broken. Only nervousness remains. No more love.

Drinking, gambling, obsessions, threats of leaving, cheating, with-holding affection, wear down trust and love. Game-playing with emotions, tear down trust and love. It is easy to do to a victim, but extremely hard to rebuild when the victim has been hurt.

It happens in families between generations, too. To rebuild that tear in the family takes years, and it is never the same, like a crumpled piece of paper. It cannot be smoothed out like new. Like walking on eggshells, the broken trust is never completely renewed.

I am in a trusting relationship, now. I see others who are not. I hurt for them with empathy, as I have felt that hurt in my past, before.

A Tourist’s Memory; The Surfer

A Tourist’s Memory; The Surfer
By Valerie J Laidlaw (remembering a day in 2012)

Far beyond the shoreline, and across the bay, we enjoyed a view of the Sydney city skyline and airport on the horizon,
as we stopped at a cafe for coffee, and grilled sandwiches of tomato, ham, and cheese.

Further along, we met up with
A wet-suited surfer,
As he strode to the beckoning shore.
Layered with repetitive rows of white waves curling towards him,
He joined his bobbing buddies in the water. They each took turns paddling out
To catch the waves, standing up,
Wiggling with the motion,
“To each their best,”
Until the water won the challenge,
Tipping the front of the board,
As it sprung in the air,
Depositing it’s rider backwards,
Into, and under the victorious,
Unconquered, wave.
A short-lived victory,
As the mighty wave dissipated,
Fading, and succumbing to the shore.
The surfer, undaunted,
Re-joined his friends in the search,
To catch the most challenging wave
To “ride out!”

After the challenge,
With a warm shower,
And a beverage,
The board leaning against a stucco wall,
The wetsuit draped over a rail.
Sitting, on a deck with a view,
Facing, a darkening, blue sky, and sea,
The surfer awaits another day.