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The Death Of A Child

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As a child I grew up in a very abusive home, my father and stepfather were both verbally and physically abusive to my mother myself and my siblings. It seemed like no matter how many times the police were called nothing was ever done sure they are taking away in be gone and locked up for 24 hours in the drunk tank while he sobered up. But within a few days to go for the judge to give him a slap on the wrist like a fine then he would be back in our house and we’d all be walking on pins and needles waiting for the next time he went drinking or he had a bad day at work and the verbal and physical abuse would begin again. I guess it’s because I’m older than most in this class I grew up in a different time, being 48 I grew up mainly in the late 70s so I think these laws were little more lax than they are now. I guess I can’t blame it all on my stepfather, some of the blame can be placed on my mother’s shoulders. The police would be called he would be arrested taken out of the house and come Monday morning my mother be in court bright and early to try and drop the charges. I’m very glad to see that over the last decade the laws have gotten a lot stricter on whether or not the abused person can drop the charges, it’s getting where the state can and does pick up the charges and proceed without the consent of the victim. Which I think is a very good thing I think that if this revision to the domestic violence laws had been in effect when I was a child two things may have happened,
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