I feel conflicted and burdened by the Trebilcock case for many reasons. One is that I too was adopted into a large, bi-racial family and to put it simply, it wasn’t easy. We too went through a criminal investigation that made national headlines when I was 13, and I can still remember the childlike protective love I had for my parents, coupled with deep personal anguish and fury.
And so my heart was wrenched in several pieces as I listened to my husband read the verdict. Both parents guilty of first degree criminal mistreatment of a son, including aggravating factors. Both parents guilty of third degree criminal mistreatment of a daughter. Both parents not guilty on counts relating to the three youngest daughters from Haiti.
I first felt mercy and pain for these people who had royally screwed up their own and their children’s lives. I then winced when the verdict of “not-guilty” was read in regards to the three youngest girls. I was at once appreciative and irritated by the tinge of warmth my husband directed towards the couple as he gave his analysis and his verdict. Appreciative because I despise the common sentiment of throwing people away into a cosmic garbage can with no ability for redemption. Irritated that the parents weren’t given more of stern “speaking to” as to their crimes against children which they clearly do not yet perceive.
The sentencing trial is today, and more will be said then. I have to let this go. I have to remember that I couldn’t fix other people’s choices at 13, and I still can’t fix them. I can only do that which I do best, and that is to send out love, and to inhale and exhale, one breath at a time.