Impact Moment

          The impact moment of my life was at approximately 10:00 PM on Friday, February 13, 2009.  The second I got in the car after being picked up from ski bus I could tell something was extremely wrong.  Everyone was quiet, I could sense the awkward and uncomfortable feeling in the air.  My 7 year old cousin Olivia had a look of fear in her eyes, the look of a child that doesn’t understand what’s going on but knows something terrible has happened.         
          “What’s wrong?” I asked.
          “Nothing.” Mom said in a ‘what possibly could be wrong?’ sort of way.  We left the school but headed in the direction of Grandma’s.
          “I need to go home and change.”  I reminded Mom.
          “Pull into this parking lot and practice your parking.”  Mom told Sidney, who was driving with her new learner’s permit.
          “Mom what’s wrong? What’s going on?  Why can’t we go home?”  I tried to ask again.  Sidney continued parking and re-parking, until Mom seemed satisfied, more with the time wasted than with Sidney’s improvement.  We started toward the house. As we turned the corner onto our street, I saw the flashing lights of police cars in my driveway and had the first confirmation my suspicion was true.  We passed without stopping and went straight out to Grandma’s.
            Immediately I knew it was about Dad, he had gotten in trouble with the law over the years.  Most of the time it was hushed and looked over, an officer at the door here, a court hearing there. We would continue going on with our daily routine, pretending to be a normal family.  Once Dad disappeared for a day or two but I always figured he’d come back.  I didn’t realize the impact this particular arrest would have on the rest of my life.
            Dallon Ted Heiner was charged with and plead guilty to felony of lewd and lascivious conduct with a child under 16.  People felt sorry for me, but it takes living with a pedophile to be grateful for your father’s prison sentence.
                The arrest came out of the blue, but the surprise wasn’t the crime, the surprise was he finally got caught, surprise and relief.  The people who knew me and knew of me, saw my trial as my father in jail and the association there-of.  I saw it as my friends, neighbors, ward, school, and town, everyone I knew and didn’t know, reading in the local newspaper the kind of man my father is and has been for as long as I can remember.  Something I had been hiding from every counselor, every “deepest, darkest secret” sharing time at childhood sleepovers, was printed for the public.
                My friends and I didn’t bring it up for months.  I didn’t realize everyone knew, but mainly I couldn’t talk about it.  A new girl moved in and we went from friends to best friends.  Her parents were divorced and so were mine, which was uncommon in our group of friends.  Whenever I made reference to my dad, she didn’t know what I was talking about, but I’d shrug it off and she’d let it slide, respecting my shred of privacy.  One day I asked, “What do you know about my dad?” 
         “Someone said he’s in jail, and that’s all.”  I was able to tell her my story, my version, not a paragraph from a news report. 
               My mom went back to school and struggled to support us with a small salon in our house and no child support.  She began dating, and when I didn’t approve of a guy, I let her know.  I wasn’t around when she picked the first, but I was going to make sure she did it right the second time.  Shortly after she was remarried, my family moved very unexpectedly.  The move has been incredibley difficult, but has come with the benefit of a fresh start.
                I moved to a location where it was made apparent that divorce is sin enough.  I watched as ward members struggled to comprehend splitting parents, remarriage, and step siblings.  One neighbor in particular was determined to find out as much as she could about my real dad.  She later reassured me she “had my back” after she’d been asked if she knew anything of my father and hadn’t said anything.  I thanked her for being a life saver and she pat herself on the back.  My mom and I laughed about this later, a ward finding out my dad is in prison is nothing I haven’t been through, or conquered, before.  Oh, and Google has straighter facts than any lady down the street.
                The truth is, I don’t have to answer questions, but what’s more important to me is timing.  Anyone can find out prison sentences and felonies, and that’s enough to some, but if you care about me, instead of a good story, you will notice and learn I am who I am and think and act the way I do today because of what started to change on February 13, 2009. And if you stick around long enough, I’ll tell you everything you want to know, or as it seems to go, everything you can handle. 
               After years of buildup, that night was the impact moment, the beginning of growth and change to the brand new life ahead of me.