James (ch. III, v. 7-8)*

“The tongue like a sharp knife... Kills without drawing blood.”

Buddha quotes (Hindu Prince Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism, 563-483 B.C.) The above quote is the first one to come up on my Google search on 'Tongue Quotes' and oddly enough it applies exactly to this tragic and searingly unhappy life experience. The story starts about 15 years ago when my husband was in the process of taking each of our children out to our little cabin on the lake for their Autumn Holiday with Dad. Starting about the middle of September and ending close to the last weekend in October , my husband would pack each of our four  children up in the car loaded with ice cream, snacks, games, bikes, and their favourite goodies and spend the weekend for some good old quality one on one time.  There always was some controversy about which one would get to be the last one taken for the year as that one would get to gorge not only on their idea of favourite foods, but also get to finish up the other three's left overs.  They would leave right after school on Friday and come home early Sunday afternoon full not only with ice cream and candy , but also with memories of extended board games, bike riding, and lake side exploring. Those times were treasured moments for my husband as well and he often had said that he would hope he would get to do that with each one until they were at least 40. Tragically the innocence of  that all ended suddenly and cruelly, not because of a passing, or ill health, or loss of free time, but because of the cutting, slashing, and ripping of someone's tongue.  This disemboweling of my family's sense of well being and trust was not done by a stranger or even a thoughtless neighbour, but by my husband's own father and it happened like this: My husband was at the lake one September weekend with our middle child who was ten at the time.  My step-mother - in - law had asked us for supper that same weekend and I had to refuse as not everyone was going to be able to attend.  When I went to explain why we wouldn't be coming as the reason was because of the two campers being away, my father-in-law, who up until that very moment I believed pretty much to be a near perfect grandparent, turned to me and asked me , "Why don't you take the kids to the lake?  How come he takes them?  Do you know what is happening there?  What if one of the girls gets pregnant in high school? What will people  think?"  More words were spoken and repeated with the gist being that my husband might be up to 'no good' out there at the lake with his daughters. The shock, hurt, and sense of loss and disappointment nearly caused me to keel over as  the ramifications of this thoughtless, cruel, and truly diabolical utterance slammed into my consciousness. Never again would I see that man  in the same light.  To me the grandfather of my children was murdered by his own words.  His character and who I thought he was, dropped dead to the floor never to be revived.  My husband cried on the phone that night when I told him what had happened.  We did seek counselling but the relationship was forever ripped apart not only because of my father-in-law's ( in the counsellor's words ) 'lack of personal insight' but also due to the fact that my step mother in law stirred the  pot by gossip mongering. Not only were my children forever denied the grandfather we (my husband and I) thought we were giving them,  they were denied, consequently, other aunts, uncles and cousins, who, because we never told everyone all the story, didn't understand our absences from family gatherings. All my children have been the victims of incest. Even though they were never touched, exposed to any sexual content or innuendo and were always loved and kept safe, they have suffered much because of the  ripping, scaring, and unmerciful slashing of someone's tongue...made even more tragic as that mouth should have been rising them up, praising and protecting them.  That is the end of this post, but the hurt and loss has continued on through these last 15 years and I suspect  it to continue well into the future, as it  not only taints this generation but threatens also to harm the next.  *“The stroke of the tongue breaketh the bones. Many have fallen by the edge of the sword; but not so many as have fallen by the tongue.” The fall camping/cabin trips continued for several years after, but in many ways the special  innocent spark of  what it meant was dampened in my husband's heart by the hurt and memory of that evening when he was brought to tears by his own father's accusations.