You’re a ten-year-old boy. It’s Friday afternoon and you can’t wait for the weekend to start.
You’re hoping for some quality time with your siblings. Playing basement baseball with your two older brothers. Or maybe one of your older sisters will take you to the drive-in if she’s not too busy or out on a date. You’re the fourth of five kids so it’s hard to get any attention, especially since your dad died last year.
A tapping on your shoulder interrupts your daydream and you turn to find your teacher peering down at you. He’s wondering where your mind was that he had to walk all the way to your seat to get your attention. Then, he says something you’ve never heard before.
“Father Dorsch wants to see you in his office.”
Your heart jumps.
“What did I do? Am I in trouble?” The priest has never summoned you before. That’s usually reserved the bad kids, the ones in need of constant discipline.
You make your way to the office and the priest closes the door.
This is the moment that changes your life forever.
This was my brother Michael. For four years he suffered at the hands of a predator who forced him into despicable acts. All the while, our family never suspected any wrongdoing. And unfortunately, Michael didn’t tell a soul until he was an adult.
If you’re reading this, it saddens me that you may be among those whose lives have been scarred by a similar tragedy. Michael is no longer here to speak out and help protect other children. My hope, through this blog and the foundation it supports, is to become a source of help and direction in helping anyone who has been affected by childhood sexual abuse to heal.
