A Man Named Dave

that there is much for all of us to do to help others and ourselves.
    We’ve come a long way in understanding the dynamics of pain, survival, and healing. Some of the best research about the effects of trauma on the human psyche comes, not surprisingly, from war victims and victims of domestic violence. Children and adults who do survive use creative and powerful defenses of denial, dissociation, repression, and fantasy, which keep them alive (and for many, sane) until they can escape and hopefully find the necessary support and resources to heal. The lucky ones are not only those who get out, but those who heal, while others fall into a private hell, an abyss of mental illness, die, or propagate their horrific legacy by hurting others.
    Survival, yes, but there is a huge cost to the soul and mind as important parts of one’s self are buried. These survival skills provide the needed road map for healing later, tracing, as it were, the path to the buried treasure that all survivors, along with their skilled helpers, must find to heal – encountering and conquering the dreaded monsters of their past and liberating all the precious bits of self – innocence, the capacity to play, laugh, trust, love, and belief in one’s intrinsic value – that were buried in the time of war.
    It is not enough to survive. We can see, as in Dave’s life, that when people are left unprotected at length, as he was, the situation can become frightfully ritualistic, as it did between him and his mother. Fueling this dynamic, often, is addiction, poor self-esteem and –worth, secret keeping, denial, fear, or indifference by those who can make a difference (Dave’s father, relatives, neighbors, even society at this time in the seventies). The powerful “shame rules” — don’t feel, talk about, or stop the shameful and abusive behavior – that exist in these families, and to an alarming degree still in our society, leave members, especially children, vulnerable to attack. It’s as if the alarm system in a house has been disconnected, allowing any intruder easy access to burglarize.
    And we can see this in Dave’s life, as his attachment disorder was his “protective barrier” that kept him from being hurt, but also kept him from getting close to anyone – even more so to people he felt he couldn’t trust. His very low self-esteem made him the perfect target to be taken advantage of. And what is very common to many people, Dave ended up having a relationship with someone from a similar background. In fact, individuals with problematic pasts seem to be magnetized to each other. But these two negatives did not equal a positive, but rather created and fueled more problems, barriers, and isolations. Ultimately Dave’s misery was endured only because of the absolute love and devotion he had for his son. He felt an obligation to make the marriage last.
    The good news is how many people are now mobilizing and joining hands from across many fields to create a world where not only intervention occurs, as in Dave’s life, but prevention as well. How do we create such a world? By creating relationships where the first priority is mutual love and concern for all, we overcome the indifference, domination, and submission that create problems in the first place. Dave and others like him are saved when people care and take action.
    When we see how the consistent love of several people in Dave’s life helped to transform his great suffering into even greater loving service to others, we witness a miracle. We see then how love can redeem every suffering, and how embracing another’s suffering can work a miracle of unity in all of our relationships. When we forgive, we free ourselves from the bitter ties that bind us to the one who hurt us.
    I will always remember the questions that prompted my call to Dave: “How long does it take to forgive?” “Can suffering be transformed into love?” And I will remember that the answers to these questions are largely determined by how well and how long we love and are loved. Through healing and forgiveness we get better, not bitter. Dave, thanks so much for your inspiring and courageous role-modeling to grow and help others to help themselves. We, along with all who are forever touched by your story, join you in this mighty work of hope and healing!

 
Stephen Pelzer
    Son
     
    Over the past thirteen years my dad has done so much for me and for many other people. I still do not totally understand what happened to my father,