The hardest things for me are not my losses; the hardest things are his.
Clergy abuse and its subsequent fallout have been foundationally fracturing for him. Elite deviants nearly cost him not only his worldview, his wallet, his wife but also his life. I have watched him bewildered and broken. I have watched him grasp not only my victimization but his, with broken hands.
I have watched as he wrestled with the reality of love and loss; betrayal and brutality; predation and prey; manipulation and malfeasance. I have watched as dumbfounded he despaired while evil was called good and good called evil.
I have watched this man, who has faulted none of these men, silently lose most everything: his reputation, his recreation, and his relaxation.
It is rare that we think about the loss and the cost for those who love, live, and languish with survivors.
We ought.