Photography © Chad Parenteau

 

Broken Spirit

Thomas is hurting
You are too fat. A liability.
You can’t come
Thanksgiving, Christmas
my brother says to his son
a fortyish year old with Down Syndrome.

It’s the third year
Thomas won’t open gifts
or enjoy meals, despite constant criticism.
Do you really need more mashed potatoes?
You are not taking dessert home.
Watch what you eat, Thomas!

My mom sides with her son
Your brother’s afraid he’ll have a heart attack.
We’ll invite Thomas another time
that means when someone else can bring him
as if that pacifies
his wish to be with family

I talk to Thomas
about rain, snow, anything weather
he’s cheerful most the time
asks question after question
I’m doing well.
How is everyone else?

He asks about my daughters
and grandchildren
talks of jobs he wished he had
I’m still applying on Indeed, Aunt Abigail
on his phone is a recorded message
if you don’t reach me, call my secretary
which is the group home’s main line
he tells of his messy roommate
sunny days sitting outside
or the cold of winter.

This time it’s different.

I hear pain in his voice at being alone
being fat-shamed.
He tells me how he turned down a job at a pizza place
afraid of the food that will put on pounds
as he holds back tears and his words soften
I don’t understand
what do you weigh, Aunt Abigail?

I am obese like him
his father holds weight as well
I ask Mom, What about my size?
When will I be too fat for an invite?
You can still fly alone to get here, she says
Thomas can’t.
He never could, I answer

I don’t know the real whys
but do know intelligence means a lot to my brother
is he ashamed of his son
(who by the way is smart, both emotionally and mentally)
I think of a line a friend once said
your children know your values

It doesn’t hurt Thomas, my family says
he understands
his dad does not have medical authority over him
and can’t take the financial risk
I feel Thomas’s broken spirit
he is lost in a world of loneliness and rejection
Thomas is hurting
I can still hear him fighting tears
wishing for what he will never have

 

Abigail Rivers is a long-time writer who strives always to write from the heart. This is a pen name, not because of shame, but rather to try to keep peace in the family. She has daily conversations with her nephew Thomas, and with each one the conversations get deeper into Abigail’s and Thomas’ family pain. They both believe sharing helps and have formed a bond much deeper than expected, one the rest of the family will never understand or experience.

Abigail Rivers, a writer of more than 30 years, spends many hours a week writing about the pain of the past and present in memoir and poetry fashion.

Chad Parenteau is Associate Editor of Oddball Magazine.