I don't get it. The world has turned upside down. Just look at the news and see how everyone's priorities are all mixed up. We are more worried about what sex or race adopting parents are, then whether they are truly caring for their children. I look at this child. His legs are skinny and covered with bruises. His eyes are gaunt and darkened. His little 3 year old frame would be visible if he just weighed only a few ounces less. He isn't a child of Haiti or from some African nation. He isn't from another continent, nation, state or city. He isn't even from another street and he isn't the child next door. He is my own grandson.
I watch week after week and see his tiny little frame grow thinner and thinner. I weigh him on scales that often sing of far too many pounds on my own frame. Yet, another six months goes by and his weight drops from 40 pounds to 38 and now to 36. His father and grandfather stand over 6 feet. His half-sister is even tall for her age, but he remains on the short side of the ruler, gaining in height only a half inch from Christmas to Easter. There are two times in a child's life when growth jumps like a grasshopper; before the age of 5 and at puberty. His growth nearly stands still.
When he comes to visit he seems more and more distant to us, his grandparents, and clings to his father more tightly. Why is that? Tonight he bore bruises on both legs and confessed a tale of a step-father's discipline, or rather abusive attack. Please understand, I am all for discipline; "spare the rod and spoil the child" kind. But if it leaves a bruise, it's abuse. And where there is physical abuse, I can guarantee you there is verbal and mental abuse as well. But none of that matters because we are the grandparents. But not just the grandparents, we are the parents of the father. The only one in this scenario with less clout than us is our son.
The discussion, what little there can be around the child, reveals fear and a perception that no one cares. No one cares if he loves his son. No one cares if he is a better parent. No one cares that he has never struck his son and never left a mark. No one cares that the mother has left numerous marks and now the step-dad does as well. No one cares that she has learned to manipulate the system and everyone around her. This child was beaten because he had an accident in his pants at the age of 3 years and 4 months. ‘He should know better, they've been potty training since he was 12 months old’. That's the age when she delivered my grandson for the first time without diapers. “He’s so big; he went to the potty by himself.” She turned and left; and he wet the floor. And every time we mentioned going to the potty, he screamed as in terror. But then no one else seemed to really care.
