I don't know how to express what has taken place over the past three days. My emotions are a mess, like a rainbow painted by a four-year-old with so much water that all the colors run together. I feel layered and complicated, confused, bewildered and deeply sad.

The facts, devoid of emotion, go something like this; my grandpa is getting married to a woman named June whom all my aunts and uncles think is after grandpa's money. They are so worried that my grandpa is making a terrible mistake that they have taken it upon themselves to convince him he should not marry her. But they have gone too far. They have dug up all sorts of dirt on June, they have hired a private investigator, they have been rude to her and my grandpa, they have been pushy, self righteous, derisive and condescending, and they feel like they are justified in this because they are doing the right thing.

They are destroying him and more tragically, they are destroying their own family.

I spent the last three days in Coeur d'Alene with my mom, visiting these relatives whom I have not seen for two or three years. Of course, during my visit whenever my relatives got together the only thing they would talk about was June and how awful she was. My mom, however, wondered if they, herself included, were being too harsh and judgmental. She suggested that they meet together and pray for the situation in order that together they could gain a godly perspective. It was a nice idea, but when they actually met to pray her siblings exploded. It ended with two of them walking out saying that my mom was never to step foot in their houses again.

I know you probably don't care to hear the gory details about this stuff but it helps me to get this poison out of my system.

The most traumatic altercation I witnessed (probably more traumatic for me than my mom) was a conversation-turned-argument she had with one of her brothers. My mom and I had been enjoyed a peaceful morning doing devotions at the kitchen table when my uncle walked in and started going off about June. Every time my mom would start to answer or discuss any point my uncle was making, he would interrupt and get angry. Soon, he began to belittle my mom, saying she had no logic and didn't know anything about anything. Her brain didn't work right so her opinion didn't matter. The more he talked and the more he interrupted my mom, the more angry he got. He wound himself up so tight that he suddenly snapped and went for her. He dashed behind her and clasped his hand over her mouth, pulling her head backwards.

That moment is frozen in my mind: my mom's eyes full of surprise, my uncle's face contorted by uncontrollable anger. I tried to get up to help her but my chair was stuck on the carpet. By the time I finished untangling myself, my uncle had let her go. But the conversation remained hostile and my uncle continued to yell insults at my mom. I couldn't handle it any more. I interrupted him.

"Rochelle, do you mind?" he said. Yes, I mind, I told him. I was so angry, so astounded. Don't ever speak to my mom like that, I said. It doesn't matter who you are or what you're talking about, everyone deserves a certain amount of respect.

To my surprise, I started getting choked up. I could hardly speak. My mom, who was miraculously remaining calm and composed, stood between my uncle and I and told me to leave. I didn't want to. He had become a monster and I couldn't leave my mom alone with a monster. But she wanted me to go. As I left I glared at my uncle. Be Nice, I said. A few moments later, as I was entering my room he called down the hallway, "You be nice, Rochelle." I answered him as scathingly as possible. I Am Being Nice.

These are the sorts of conversations you have in Jr. high with the class bully who is trying to intimidate your lunch money out of you. How can it be possible that a man in his fifties could still conflict resolve like a Jr. higher? I had students who were more mature!

I spend the entire rest of that day in my room. I didn't want to see my uncle ever again. I wanted to leave forever and forget everything that happened. But if I did that, he would win. No, the mature and totally non-Jr. high thing to do would be to regain control of my emotions and, when the time was right, apologize for my anger--not that I would apologized for my actions. I believe that I was absolutely justified in what I said, and actually, I still feel justified for my anger as well even though I apologized for it. But what I wanted to do was enable myself to forgive him. Only by forgiving him would he cease to control me. Only by doing what he couldn't do or understand would I show that I was out of his grasp. In a dysfunctional and mistrusting setting I needed to be beyond reproach.

But that didn't keep me from feeling like emotional hamburger.

I am amazed at how deeply this incident has impacted me. I haven't even begun to understand why I feel like I do. There was something so fundamentally wrong about what my uncle did. Never having personal experience with abuse I have no grid to process it with, no context for my feelings.