Hawaii - an Ocean Between Us

As I am writing this I am actually in Hawaii.  I am in the exact place, the exact hotel Ellie and I stayed in the time after she told me.  What a strange feeling I have in the pit of my stomach.  So many feelings colliding at once.  So many wounds wanting to be healed. 

We stepped on the airplane Thursday morning, Ellie still clinging to me like a timid youngster clings to her mother.  I just kept thinking, get us on that plane and up in the air.  I wanted to be far away from that bastard.  I wanted an ocean between us.  Not just figuratively, but literally. 

As the plane lifted, tears filled my eyes as I knew we were safe.  I hadn’t slept since she had told me and the exhaustion instantly hit me.  Fighting to keep my eyes open would prove to be hard for the 5 ½ hours ahead.  But, one 6 year old would make sure it happened. 

Work was the last thing on my mind and I realized that I had done little to none of it since things had come to light.  Figuring out how to make things happen when we were in Paradise was going to be difficult.  The company was paying for me to go over and for the hotel, so some work would need to be accomplished and I had meetings set up.  The reality hit me though that Ellie had not been out of my sight since things had come out in the open.  Was I ready for that? Was she? I tried to brush those thoughts aside as I had planned the trip so that the first few days were in fact vacation and the last few days were work.  We would figure things out as they came up. 

We arrived, got settled and we both said almost at the same time “he can’t get us here.”  It was apparently being thought by her as well.  Now it was out in the open.  As we fell asleep, a certain peace fell over us.  There was no way he would know where we were.  Even if he knew we were in Hawaii… he couldn’t find us.  That was such a blessed feeling.  I wish I could explain it.  We often take the feeling of safety for granted.  No longer.  Not in our lives.  Things had always been a little shaky.  But, now it was at a whole new level.  Now that her secret was out, we would be living in fear to a degree that no one should have to.  Right there in the comfort of the hotel bed, there was a lack of fear and it felt so good. 

We awoke more than 12 hours later. 

Sleep was obviously needed and missed by both of us.  I couldn’t remember the last time I slept for 12 hours. 

Paradise was waiting.  Ellie wanted to go to the beach.  And away we went.  It was so great to see my carefree girl again. We didn’t have to look around corners, or survey a store before going in.  It was us and we knew we were okay.  We took full advantage of it all. 

We talked a lot.  Ellie and I always talked and I guess that is why I was so surprised she didn’t tell me things sooner.  (yes, this is foreshadowing… thing(s))…  But, I guess when someone is threatening your mother, you really believe it.  You get scared.  So scared that you believe them.  The pains of that, of her keeping it all locked in her head will forever be with me.  It saddens me and makes my heart so heavy. 

She talked about her hatred toward her dad. She talked about never wanting to see him. She asked about what was going to happen to him.  She asked about moving so we would not be in danger.  She cried.  I cried.  And in the days, it was “forgotten.” Or as best as possible. 

The third night we were in Hawaii, we went to a fancier dinner where they cook the dinner in front of you and you sit with other people.  The people next to Ellie were commenting on how cute she was, talking to her throughout the night, Ellie was politely talking with them.  At one point, they asked if she was in Hawaii with her mom and dad. 

Ellie responded, “I don’t have a dad.  He did something very bad to me.  He….”

And I quickly picked up my hand and put it over her mouth before she could graphically tell our new friends what he did.  It was at this point, I knew that Ellie was going to be okay.  It was at this point that I knew Ellie would not mind sharing her story.  It was the “go ahead” I needed to hear to know that the road would be long, but she would come out on top.  There is no doubt in my mind that Ellie will end up using this in some way to help others.  She already has. 

The entire walk back, we had a conversation about why she couldn’t tell them what he did.  She is feisty.  She wants everyone to know this man did something bad.  And that is why I feel find sharing her story. 

As the week went on, the time to part came.  I had a friend watch her during the day, TH took her with her and I was much more nervous than Ellie.  Ellie was okay. It was me that was not.  Ellie spent the days having fun and I was so pleased that she was okay. 

I worked a couple days and Friday decided to take the day off.  In fact, made it mandatory for my team.  We called it team-bonding.  They found a convertible and we toured the Island.  It is one of my fondest memories of my times in Hawaii.  Ellie laughed so hard that day.  Our cares were nowhere to be found and beauty was everywhere for the eyes to see.  It brings tears to my eyes thinking about it. 

 *****

We had been talking, while we were in Hawaii and what Ellie wanted, what would make her feel better and one of her answers was a dog.  If anyone knows anything about me… I am NOT a dog person.  So, when Ellie said this, I cringed.  At this point, I would have done anything for her.  Actually, in the weeks to come, I nearly did. 

While I was in Hawaii, I made some calls and pulled some strings.  I also took some very deep breaths. 

We arrived home from Hawaii on a red-eye Saturday morning at 7am.  At 8:30 we had a dog. 

Bell came into our lives as a plain old dog (well, really young pup).  But, she has turned into much more than that.  I can’t imagine our lives without her.  She brings light and happiness to Ellie in ways that I cannot begin to describe.  She has saved her more than once, yes, metaphorically.  But, saved her, nonetheless.  I feel so blessed to have that silly dog.  She was meant for us.  For Ellie.  And I think our lives would not be as rich without her. 

******

With Paradise behind us, a new dog in our house, the real world waited.  And the real world wasn’t as pretty as it once was.  

CARES... a Blanket, Some Stickers and a Left Hook

He sexually abused her on Saturday, she told me on Sunday and on Wednesday we were scheduled for CARES. 

Monday and Tuesday had been spent talking to my lawyer, the therapist and the detective.  I fell apart when I was alone; even if that meant just in the bathroom.  I smiled and tried to fake being okay in front of Ellie.  

For Ellie's part, she would not let me go anywhere without being next to me.  If I got up to leave the room, just to change the laundry, she’d ask, “where are you going?” and then she would follow.  It was as if we had a bungee cord attached to us and I couldn’t go farther than that bungee cord could pull.  Of course, I understood it and I didn’t say anything about it. I gave her lots of extra hugs and love.  She would wait outside the restroom for me.  She would walk to the mailbox with me.  She was fearful that she had just let a big secret out and I was now in danger. 

I prayed with everything I was that this was not going to threaten our plans.  We were to leave for Hawaii on Thursday.  It was a work trip, as usual.  I assumed it would turn into more of a getaway.  She knew what to expect and was excited to go.  There was no better time to get away.  The thought of having an ocean in between us and him was currently the only thing getting me through.  Please, please, don't let the lawyer say that we can't go.  

There was a lot of talk about the CARES interview with my lawyer as well as the therapist.  I was told that they look to the "reporting" parent as someone who might be telling their child to say something.  This is absolutely insane to me.  I cannot fathom that people actually do this.  The pain that we had just been in for only 72 hours was something I had never imagined.  To think that ANYONE would do this by choice is beyond what my brain can comprehend.  Because, it just wouldn't end there.  Your child would have to endure so much more.  I just didn't get it.  I didn’t give it a ton of thought, but purposefully didn’t tell Ellie about CARES until we arrived at the facility.

I was shaking on my way to the CARES appointment.  My head just kept thinking, "this really happened and she is going to have to talk about it to someone other than me." 

I was so sad.  My heart hurt. 

My baby was about to have to grow up so quickly. 

I had been practicing what I was going to say to Ellie all day.  I didn't want to say too much.  But, I wanted her to know what was happening.  I didn't want to say too much because I didn't want the chance of the to say "her mom led her this way...." 

Right before we went in, I sat in the car and I told her in order to get help, we have to tell people what happened. So, just like she told me on Sunday, she was about to tell nurses.  I told her that she needed to tell the entire truth.  And that she would not be hurt by him.  And neither would I.  I promised.  I answered her barrage of questions to the best of my ability but really didn’t know that much myself.  My main desire was for her to feel safe and know that this was a safe place.

She asked if I would be in the room with her and I told her that I would try to be, but I wasn't sure.  

I will be honest.  The way I was feeling right then, I didn't want to ever let her out of my sight again.  If I could, I would stay with her forever.  

The way that CARES worked was that they asked the parent back first and interviewed her/him and then they took the child back (alone) and did a physical exam as well as an interview.  The interview is done in a room with a one way mirror. On the other side was the detective. The child is informed of that.  It was also being videotaped so that Ellie would theoretically not have to tell her story again.  The child is informed of that as well.

I tried as hard as I could to buck the system.  I was not pleased with the idea of Ellie being in a room alone having to tell her story.  I just ached for her.  I wanted her to feel comfortable.  My heart was so sad.  

The interview with me was easy, though I cried through the entire thing.  This should not surprise anyone.  Who knew a person could have this many tears? 

I went out to the waiting room and there was Ellie, just fine.  Watching a movie, being watched by the CARES staff, having some goldfish, no issues.  She asked if I would come back and I told her that I couldn't.  I told her to be strong and she said she would be.  I also took the chance to remind her she was safe.

The tears flowed as Ellie walked back.  So strong, so tough.  

I was trying to imagine what was happening in the back as I sat in the front waiting room.  Mostly, I just wanted to throw up.  Nauseous and tired.  I hadn't slept in days. 

They finally got me from the back and I was brought to the interview room.  I saw Ellie and was happy that she looked okay.  

They explained their findings.  

They talked to Ellie and they reported that she seemed nervous to talk about what had happened. How could that be surprising? She was 6 years old.  That is so young.  Who knows what all had happened to her.  This was all she had talked about thus far.  She had been threatened by the man who abused her that if she told, he would hurt her mother.  And, now, she was talking to 2 strangers in a room about what had just happened, all while knowing that a detective was on the other side of the mirror and she was being taped. 

Damn straight she was nervous.  Of course she wasn't going to be "talkative."  Neither would I.  

She did tell them what happened.  She told them in all the repulsive details that made tears run down my face.  Disgusting details that a 6 year old should not know.  Nothing, certainly, that she could have made up.  

The issue came when Ellie said the following words:

“I'm not sure if it was on purpose or not.”  

When she was questioned further, she explained that they played what he called the “tickle game”.  She thought this might have been a different form of that same game.

I don’t want to get graphic on here, so I will try to explain that in no way could this have been any kind of game.  And the thought of a grown man playing a “tickle game” with a daughter he barely knows terrified the shit out of me even more.  (Mental note, dig into that information deeper). 

The 2 ladies escorted Ellie out and I, still a little, naïve, figured, here is where it comes down to making things happen.  At this point, the detective walked in the room.  It was the first time I had met him face to face. 

“That was really painful to watch, I’m sorry you and your daughter had to go through that,” he said. 

“Thanks,” I said, tears filling up my eyes.

“So, as you might understand, I don’t have enough information to go on to arrest him.”

No.  I didn’t understand that.  At what point was that said? What did I miss? My daughter just explained in gory details what had happened and you can’t arrest him? I was literally in shock and had to sit down. 

“I don’t get it, I’m sorry.” I said.

“Ellie said it might have been an accident and that they were playing a game. And we have that on tape. It will not hold up in court.”

Holy Shit.  Yes, a game called let me ruin your life.  A game called let me cut you with my fingernail in a place my finger should not be.  A game called oops, my clothes fell off and oh… it’s the tickle game. 

I was disgusted. 

I said, “She is six.  She is scared. He threatened my life if she told.  That is a lot hanging over her head.  You can see the fear in her.”

“I agree with all of that, but the courts wouldn’t convict him because of that.  And, it is her word against his. And, unfortunately, that is what we have for her testimony on camera”

Jesus.

“It isn’t over,” he said, “that is the good thing.” (boy, was he ever right).  “Just because I can’t go arrest him this minute doesn’t mean the case ends. I am going to go interview him and ask to inspect his house. I won’t have a warrant, so he won’t have to allow it.  Depending on how that goes, I might arrest him then. We will also get DHS involved”

I explained that we had plans to leave for Hawaii in the morning and asked if there was any reason we needed to stay.  He said no, go and get away, your little girl needs it. 

As I walked out of the room, I thought to myself, wow, our system is really fucked up.  You can’t believe a 6 year old because she is 6.  And so, he walks?  I understand the need for CARES, I believe it helps families cope after.  But I left disheartened. 

Ellie left with a blanket and a couple stickers.  And the first time asking:

 “are they going to arrest my dad?”

If I had a dime… maybe even a penny for the number of times she has asked, and fairly so, I believe, I could buy another house. 

A check in with the lawyer and an okay for Hawaii.  Please paradise, allow us some time to heal.   

A Short Update

I was expecting to be writing this a bit hung over from the celebration last night.  But, the celebration did not happen.  Instead, I write it weepy-eyed and with eyes that are swollen from tears.

Though we didn't "lose" in court yesterday, we certainly didn't win.

I won't go into much detail because I haven't caught you up on the 2 years in between.  But, I will say that things remain status quo for another 6 months.  The Judge has given DP another 6 months to get some money together to run some tests that need to be run.

I am bewildered.

First, why are we even still here.

Second, how many chances does this "man" get?

Third, how can we continue another 6 months with this cloud over our heads?

A sad day at the Emery house.

As I came in last night, Ellie yelling, "did you do it, Mama?"

I told her, "yes.  I kept us together."

6 Words. Now What?

“They hurt because of my daddy.”

Those words will forever ring in my head.  Those 6 words, when put together so horribly life changing.  And yet, of such little surprise.  And yet, hitting me like a ton of bricks. 

I wanted to weep for my little Ellie who had been through something I could only imagine and at the same time didn’t even want to start to.  Brave Ellie.  Stoic Ellie.  Wise beyond her years.  Such an old soul and leaving me wondering, were we just scratching the surface with those words. 

With everything that I was, I tried to remain calm.  I tried to show no emotion to those words that had just come out of her mouth. 

“What do you mean, E?”

“My daddy touched me.”

I could feel the HUGE swell of tears coming up and I knew that if she saw me cry, it would not be okay.  I could not break in front of her. I would bite right through my lip before that happened.  

“Come here, Ellie.” I gave her a huge hug and I could feel her finally let go.  Don’t do it, Amy, don’t do it.  I knew that if I started to cry, there would be no stopping.  She would get scared and maybe, just maybe that is what was keeping her silent.  “Sweetie, why didn’t you tell me last night?”

“He made me promise not to.” She said through her tears.  “He says he will hurt you if you found out.”

That fucking bastard. 

I have been taught not to toss the word hate around but boy, the hatred that I felt for this monster was out of control. 

My mind was racing.  I knew there was something I should do and there was some kind of protocol that I should probably be following, but I had no idea what it was.  I also knew that I needed to keep myself under control because I was about to crumble and my baby just became a goddamn statistic by a person who is suppose to love and care for her and keep her safe. 

Keep it together Emery, one thing at a time.

“Ellie, can you tell me exactly what he did to you?”

She shook her head no. 

“I can show you though.” She said as she wiped her tears and her bottom lip shook. Here she was, trying to brave for me... 

Jesus. 

She led me to the bedroom and had me lay down on the bed and there she showed me exactly what had happened. 

Tears ran down my face and I told her how wrong that was and how sorry I was.  It was not the time to ask if it had happened before, but there were so many questions I had. 

I wanted to make sure that she was okay.  I wanted her to know that he was wrong, not her.  She said she understood.  I explained that I needed to call some people because what he had done was very bad.  I needed to see what the right next move was because I wasn't sure.  

I asked her to lie in bed while I called my dad.  I was hoping he could guide me a little.  After all, aren't parents suppose to know what to do in situations like these? Wait a minute... crap! I was a parent! There went that idea. 

Unbeknownst to me, my parents were having a party, but thankfully, my dad did answer.  I gave him a brief overview and asked him what I needed to do next.  He said he would call my brother-in-law (at the time) who is a policeman and ask him and get right back to me. 

Within 5 minutes my phone rang again. RH said I needed to call the local cops and report it.  They may or may not come out and get a statement.  They would probably assign a detective to the case and he/she would take it from there. 

I checked on Ellie and went to work.

I called the non-emergency line and reported it.  The officer to whom I spoke asked if I wanted to do it over the phone or in person and I chose over the phone.  Enough trauma for a little girl in one day, we didn't need cop cars at our house too.  I told him what I knew, he told me a detective would get back to me that night and the detective would take it from there.

Now what?

Somehow, I had to go in and be a parent. 

Where is the fucking guidebook for this part?

I found Ellie lying in my bed doing nothing.  I asked if she wanted to talk about it.  She said no.  She knew I would get hurt by him if she did.  There was obviously huge fear.  (Mental note, call her therapist next time I get a minute).  Okay, let’s get our minds off it until the phone rings. 

We decided to start packing her suitcase for Hawaii.  Thinking of Hawaii, how could you not be happy?!. 

I got Ellie to bed early that night and the Detective called just after.  He was nice enough and asked the same exact  questions I had already answered.  The only new information was that he said I needed to get into see someone at CARES Northwest.  CARES is a medical program for the assessment of child abuse.  They do physical exams and interviews.  The Detective would be there for the interview – behind a one way glass – so, hopefully – Ellie wouldn’t have to tell her story more than once. 

As I hung up the phone, the reality of the day set in.  I crumbled.  How could someone do this? How could a dad do this to a daughter? How could someone do this? How? I was sick over it.  Literally sick. 

It was if I felt the entire weight of the world on me.  Every step was heavy.  

Sleep was not an option.  Instead, I watched as Ellie tossed and turned in her bed.  I wondered what else this precious little 6 year-old had endured.  So strong, this one.  Stronger than I could have ever been.   

Ah, the guilt, it was ridiculous. 

A silent promise to her that night. 

Though our fight might be long from over... 

I would never let her hurt her again.  

One Answer and Your World Changes

(So hard to write)

5 hours. 

300 minutes

18000 seconds

That is how long he had her June 26, 2010.  

*******

He dropped her off, placing her down in between the first and the second glass openings as always.  There was the same whisper in her ear and she moved closer to me. 

I squeezed her when I got her and took her hand to walk to our car.  I said something along the lines of getting a good parking spot and she let out a small laugh.  I told her I missed her and she said “me too.” 

When we got in the car, I asked how things had gone. 

Fine.

“Let me guess,” I said trying to be funny.  “Chuck E Cheese, Wunderland or Safari Sam’s.” I said. 

“No,” she said back.

“What?”

I kind of laughed.

“We went to his house she said.”

“Well, that is different.” I said.  “what did you do there?”

“He made me watch a documentary on Michael Jackson.” She said.

“Oh, was it good” I asked?

“No, I didn’t want to watch it,” she said. 

“Well,  why was it so important?” I asked.

“I don’t know, mom.”

I could tell with the last “mom” she was pretty much done talking about it.  I decided to let it go and we continued home.  When we got home, it was still early in the day, but Ellie didn’t feel like doing anything.  She was interested in getting in her pajamas and lying in my bed. 

We were getting ready for a trip to Hawaii in a few days so she could watch me pack and it was perfect.  I noticed her sucking on her fingers, something she does out of anxiety or pure exhaustion.  I checked in with her to see if she was okay or if there was something she wanted to talk about and she said no and  so I suggested she go to sleep early and without saying anything, she got out of my bed and walked into hers. 

Usually there is at least some push back on the sleep thing, but none at all. 

I got her tucked in and I could see tears in her eyes.  I asked what was wrong and she told me that her privates hurt.  Okay.  I asked if they hurt on the inside or the outside and she said the inside.  And at this point she was crying.  I asked if I could take a look and see anything.  I thought maybe there was a rash or something.  It was red, but I didn’t know what was going on, so I had some Destin and I put it on there and called it good.  She got back in bed and I asked if she was okay.  She wasn’t.

What did she need? She didn’t know. 

Alright… well, I thought… hopefully this will help soon.

My room is directly across from hers and I was packing suitcases so I was pretty nearby.  She got up 3 times in tears in the next 30 minutes from the pain in her privates.  At this point my mind started to go places that I wished it would never have to go.  My stomach was in knots.  My ability to focus was completely gone. 

I rocked her to sleep that night, as she cried from pain and I silently cried from the possibility of my mother’s intuition being all too real. 

I am not a great sleeper to begin with, but you add stress to the mix and forget about it.  I was up all night in a whole different land of “what-ifs.”  Sure you can tell me that worry doesn’t get me anywhere and believe me that my brain totally understands it.  Sadly, my heart just doesn’t follow suit.  I am sure that this whole experience has taken off several years of my life because of the worry and the damage it has done to me.  I’ve coped the best that I know how.  And I think it is easy for others's to say, “I would be this way.” Or “I would not worry until I knew for sure.” To those people I say…  I’d love to see it.  ;-)

The next morning I decided I was not going to bring it up unless she did.   Things in the morning seemed status quo.  It was Sunday.  We were lazy, as Sundays typically are around here and we didn’t do much of anything.  She was pretty quiet, but that also isn't much different from a Sunday after being with DP. 

Then my world changed.

“Mommy, my privates hurt really bad.”

“Ugh, still?”

This happened at about 3pm.  I swear that I remember as if it were yesterday. 

“Yes,” she said, almost sheepishly.

I asked the question, not really wanting to know the answer, “do you know why they hurt?”

“No,” she said.

Ton of bricks off my shoulders. 

“Okay,” I said, “let’s take another look and see if I see anything, okay?”

“Okay” she said.

As we walked downstairs, Ellie stopped. 

“Mom, I do know why they hurt.  They hurt because of my daddy.” 

Our New Regular

Sadly the decision to go or not go was not up to Ellie.

I called my new lawyer and told her what Ellie had done and DR explained that Ellie could not continue to do that.  Each time it happened, we were in contempt of court.  Now, the reality is that DP had been in contempt dozens of times to our few, but when we appeared in front of Judge R, we wanted to be as crystal clean as possible. 

I agreed to this to a point.  There would never be a time where I would physically make Ellie go.  It wasn’t in me. I couldn’t.  What I would do was try to explain how important it was to go and continue to try to make her as safe as possible.  In the meantime, DR was very insistent on us meeting with the new therapist and trying to get to the bottom of what was keeping Ellie from wanting to be with DP so badly. 

Ellie so enjoyed going to JC, her current therapist that a break from her to a new one was hard for me to imagine.  Some things do happen for a reason, I guess and at about the time that I was going to have to tell Ellie we needed to go see someone new, JC told us she was moving.  It was actually perfect timing. 

An appointment to get into the new therapist was easy to get.  I think the law firm had a little pull.  I was set up to talk to her in the morning to give her an overview and Ellie had a meeting with her the same day in the afternoon.  Ellie was a bit apprehensive.  In her mind, just another person to meet.  But, when she saw her, an instant bond was formed.  Dr. JR and Ellie hit it off.

She did a lot of play therapy with Ellie as well.  More drawing than before.  Her quick assessment was that Ellie had something to share, but she needed to be comfortable to share it.  It would take awhile.  My fear was we didn’t have awhile.  She also believed that she didn’t share the things with me because she was protecting me. 

*****

Guilt was a huge problem for me from the get go.  I felt horrible guilty that my little girl had to go through these things with this man who I had at one point picked.  I knew that something was wrong and I couldn’t fix it.  The point that the Doctor said she is protecting me, my guilt grew ten-fold.

With visitation things continued to get worse.  The times that DP did show up were few and far between.  The preparation for us to go were tough.  Me talking Ellie “into it” was painful.  I had to walk a fine balance of not being negative toward him and also try to be mindful of her fear and mine, without letting mine show.  It was a horrible situation. 

The outcomes were horrible regardless of what happened.  If he didn’t show, it meant he didn’t care, in Ellie’s eyes and I had no way to describe it, even as an adult with mediocre intelligence. 

If he did show, there was the fear of what was going to happen.  I’d feel a tug on my leg, by Ellie’s small hands, I’d see the tears in her eyes and she tried not to let them be visible to him.  And occasionally there would be the verbal altercation by her saying that she wasn’t going to go.  Most of the time, I would end up talking her into it.  I often wondered what her “punishment” would be for talking out. 

The times were always cut short.  I imagined he didn’t want to “put up” with her.  She had taken to spelling out “m-o-m-m-m-y” every time she referred to me.  And, she was stubborn. She didn’t want to go to his work. She asked to come home.  She pestered him. 

He texted early for me to come and get her.  I would happily oblige.

Visitations became very irregular.  Down to maybe once per month.  And while it was nice, I was always waiting for a shoe to drop.

Ellie continued to see her therapist, Dr JR.  I continued to get random texts in the night.  We lived in a constant fear of him.  When would we see him in the area? When would we see someone he knew? When would he just show up at our house? When would he show up for a visitation and not come back with her? When would the reality of what was happening come out of Ellie’s mouth and a new chapter begin?

Ellie continued to sink into herself a bit more.  Whatever she was holding onto was eating at her. She was nervous to go to public places.  She didn’t want to accidently run into him.  We stayed away from most places where there were many people.  I did my grocery shopping when she was in school.  Just because she wasn’t seeing him, didn’t make our lives much better. 

******

June 26, 2010

DP texted and asked if he could meet late.  It was a Saturday.  It was HIS Saturday and so I had to say yes.  He also said he couldn’t keep her long.  I told Ellie this would be a quick one, and she was willing to go. 

He kept her until 2.  It was 5 hours total.  

A New Law Firm and Life Continues

If you were to look up big scary law firms in Portland, Oregon, you would find my new one.  One of the partners is a lady is fairly well known in the community. She also had some ties to Linfield (where my father taught) and so we called to get an appointment, a very spendy  appointment with her. 

I’ll be honest.  The woman terrified me.  She was as honest and upfront and in your face as a person could be.  She interviewed me and every sentence contained a 4-letter word.  She was crass.  She was blunt.  She was harsh.  When I started to cry (most likely out of fear at that point), she stopped and asked:

Why are you crying?

I was so taken aback by that question that I just cried more.  I was crying because I was terrified. 

She didn’t hand me Kleenex.  She didn’t comfort me.  She sat in a chair; forearms resting on her legs and staring at me. Dead straight in my teared up eyes. 

I finally found some Kleenex in the room, got it and tried to pull myself together.  After I did, I was ready to go at it again and felt a little tougher.  I was crying because I knew something was happening to Ellie.  How did I know? Mother’s intuition.  Yes, I realized that didn’t get me anywhere.  Yes, she was seeing a therapist.  No, she had not said exactly what was happening yet.  But, I felt they were getting closer. 

This won't work, she said.  

"D____" she yelled out someone's name.  

At this point, she called in another lawyer named DR.  She was instructed to take notes and listen.  I wasn’t sure, but she even looked a little fearful.  At this point, it became a list of things I was supposed to do.  I needed  to get an appointment with a different therapist.  She gave me a name.  I needed to get my files from my previous lawyer to them.  I needed to have my dad schedule weekly visits with Ellie.  There needed to be a stable man in her life and it was going to be Papa.  I was going to daily affirm that Ellie was strong, she was an Emery and Emery woman are strong. I felt like I was already doing this, but she thought my tears were a give away to me doing it with tears. 

I am fully aware of wearing my emotions on my sleeve.  But, believe I had done a pretty good job of keeping things inside when Ellie was in sight.  Even through doing this, Ellie could read me like a book.  I had to get tougher, or better yet, seek help myself. 

Isn’t it funny that there was “never time for that.” Always an appointment to go to or something to do.  And, yet, that really is the most important thing.

The BIG WIG explained that her fee was high and I agreed.  It was more than double what I had been paying so far.  However, DR, who had stepped in to take notes was competent and up for the job and fees were not AS high.  She would be taking on my case. 

I left feeling good, I think.  I was truly drained, to be honest.  The meeting was set for an hour and went two (I was hoping not to be charged for both)… and it was as intense as meeting I had been in ever.  When you talk about a no bullshit meeting, that was this.  She was one of the most interesting people I have ever met.  And probably THE MOST intense person I have ever met.  And, maybe that is what makes her so good.  I frankly think people see her in the court room and want to run.  I don’t think even Judges like having her in their court room.  She is intimidating; both in style and in presence.   I figured if DR had learned from her, I was going to be okay.

****

Life went on.  

Text messages in the middle of the night.  

Late to visitations.  

Christmases were missed, Thanksgivings were missed.  Great for me, a little hard for Ellie to understand.  Sure she was happy to not have to go, but to try to understand what was more important was a tough pill to swallow.  I tried to explain the best I could, but there was little I could say.

One Saturday morning when DP showed up, Ellie flat out refused to go.  DP came over the to bench and Ellie said, “I’m not going with you, I hate you.”

Silence.

I was not expecting this and it caught me quite off guard.

I felt her little hand grabbing on the my pants under my arm so that he couldn’t see it.  I glanced at her face and she was staying remarkably strong. 

“Go” she yelled.  “I am not going with you.” 

“Are you happy?” DP asked, looking at me. 

“I had nothing to do with this.” I simply said.

“I hate you and I am never going again with you.” She yelled again.

This was at a time when DP was wearing sunglasses routinely.  As a reminder, we were inside.  The glasses? I got nothing.  No idea.  Speculations, sure.  But mostly, they just drove me crazy. 

Again, at this point, he didn’t come closer, get down to her level ask what was wrong, suggest things they could do that day, he didn’t try to make her comfortable… he only got angry.  And, angry at me, at that.  Because, of course, it was my fault. 

“You have really messed things up, Amy.” He said. 

And he walked out the door. 

Ellie took the biggest breath in and looked at me and said, “I did it.” And I said, “you sure did! Where did that come from?”

And she explained that she didn’t want to go anymore.  

From 24 to Perry Mason to Law and Order... It all Sucked

Ellie came home one night from visitation visibly upset.  She told me that DP had 2 bags packed.  One for her and one for him.  In those bags were all of her clothes that belonged at his house, a toothbrush and toothpaste, stuffed animals and pull-ups for the nights.  

In his bag were plenty of clothes and toiletries.  

When she asked where they were going, he responded on a trip.  When she asked did her "m-o-m know?" (she was now spelling mom instead of saying it) He said no and it was a secret that she couldn't tell me.  

I, of course, knew nothing of this trip and the very thought of him taking her from me shook me to my core.  A call to my lawyer and of course, nothing that I could do.  We couldn't go in with the threat of him taking her, we couldn't go in with hearsay.  This is the gut-wrenching stuff that was dealt with for about a month.  

From that day on, Ellie would never go to him without my phone number on the inside of her sock, purposefully written in a way that she could pull her sock down and read it the quickest. Though she knew my number, in a state of panic I was worried she would forget it.  She would also have a piece of paper that said, "my dad has taken me please call the police and then my mom at _____ " and my cell number. Ellie understood that if taken to any kind of public transit area she was to go to the bathroom and give that information to anyone.  She could also try to make a break for it and find a person who would call me with the number on her sock.  Or she could also seek out a policeman.  She was not afraid to raise hell by just screaming as well.  We arrived even earlier to each visitation to go over this and make sure the number on the sock wasn't showing, and the paper could not easily be found.  

Every night when she was returned it was if I could breath again.  

*****

As the months went on, the trip was talked about more by DP.  My fear level increased dramatically.  Ellie was positive she would be taken on a certain Wednesday night.  He had been talking about it over and over again.  My lawyer said I could do one of three things.  I could let it go and hope for the best (it was this information that led me to realize I needed another lawyer... coming soon...  stay tuned), I could not show up for the visitation time (this would put ME in contempt of court, and while this sounds funny, it was a fear of mine.  Believe me, I am all for doing anything for my daughter - even going to jail for being in contempt... but was this just putting off the inevitable?).  Or, I could follow them.  

A plan was made and not only did I follow him, but a group of very great people did.  We all met in the parking lot of FM where we did the hand off for Ellie.  One of the followers had even gotten a conference call line and we all called in so we knew where everyone was and no one would lose him.  Or if someone did, hopefully someone else would pick him up.  

You think at this point in the mini series you are changing the channel because I am making this up... I am not.  

It turned from Perry Mason to 24 with me being Jack Bauer.  I didn't tell Ellie we would be there, but did go through the usual prep with her.  She was VERY nervous this night and I tried to reassure her best I could that all would be okay.  A fair amount of eyes would be watching after all and there was no way he was leaving with her.  

DP came in and the two of them left together.  As they did, I ran out to one of the cars waiting, there was no way I was driving, I was a bit too hysterical.  I believe in all we had 4 cars.  We talked back and forth about where he was and what they were doing.  They first stopped at a bakery, then a drive through and then they went to a local high school.  There was a basketball game going on there.  At this point, I felt pretty confident he wasn't leaving with her.  I was terribly appreciative of the followers, the other 24 characters and they all left.  I stayed in the car I was in to see the night through.  

After the game came another restaurant and then him driving around only to show up to FM late.  

The amazing thing, well... several amazing things that night... but one of the amazing things was that Ellie was famished when I got her.  I, of course, knowing they had been to THREE food establishments found that somewhat surprising.  She explained that they went to a bakery and Jack-in-the-box for DP's girlfriend and son, but they did not get Ellie anything.  The last stop was for Ellie but she did not want anything there and there wasn't enough time.  

****

At this point it was time to find another lawyer.  Interestingly enough, my dad made the suggestion.  I was getting no where on a case that seemed open and shut.  

When you look at how Ellie was being treated, it was eating at her.  She was sometimes being seen by DP.  And when she was, it was chaotic hours.  She was never happy.  We were worried about her safety and whereabouts.  And worried about whether would return.  

The breaking point was on Easter when DP showed up an hour and 15 minutes late.  I was waiting the entire time in the FM lobby.  A wreck.  

No phone calls. 

No texts. 

Nothing from him. 

I thought for sure he had taken her. 

It had to stop and it had to stop soon.  

We were going to the top with lawyers.  

Step aside Perry Mason, Law and Order, here we come.  

A Worker at Age 5

Things had bad before, but they got ridiculously worse from here on out.  DP felt a power that he had not had before.  Feeling that he had some “gold-star” from the Judge he took that and ran with it. 

Our lives became an even worse mini-series that I honestly don’t know how we lived through.  Texts in the middle of the night; threats of him “coming to get her,” cancelation upon cancelation for any time with his daughter. 

You would think the cancelation was good, but it was also eerie.   Right after the cancelation would be the threat of him coming to get her at midnight that night.  I had so many sleepless nights watching for cars, up by the window, watching the comings and goings of the neighborhood. 

When he did take her, they went to his work.  He now had a job, under the table so as not to pay child support, at the CP.  This was no place for a child, and honestly, no place for an adult.  The disgust that I feel when I think of Ellie there turns my stomach every way and inside and out.  Ellie would do two things while she was there.  She would either be locked in his office alone.  Or, she would roam the floors of this place.  So much to say!

The point of spending time with your child, in my mind, is to actually spend time with your child.  And here, Ellie was locked in a room by herself.  It was gut-wrenching to hear.  If she had to use the restroom, it was too bad, unless he came to check on her at the right time.  She was left to watch movies on his computer.  If he was going to do that with his time, why not leave it for me to actually just have her and do something productive with her?

Roaming the floors.  This place is dark, seedy, dirty and no place for a 5-6 year old to be walking around by herself.  She was given game tokens to play games and could do so on her own – after all, DP was working.  Those games could be anything from appropriate for a 5 year old to completely not.  The idea of someone taking her also never crossed his mind, of course. 

One day, Ellie came home with a rash up and down her arm.  I asked what that was from.  She said it was from working.  I asked further and she explained that DP made her wash the tables at his lovely place of employment.  I asked what she washed with and it was something in a bottle.  It was one of the few times that I emailed DP – but I went straight to my email.  It turns out that #1. Yes, he does make her work.  And #2. Yes, the cleanser is highly toxic.  And #3. No, he had no idea it was on Ellie’s arm.  And #4.  He is not surprised it burned her arm. 

I told Ellie that day, no more working.  No more chemicals. 

Ellie says to me, “does that mean, I can’t flip eggs and work in the kitchen?”

Are you kidding me?

The man continued to amaze me.  I could just picture a 5 year old flipping an egg in a restaurant and him thinking that was okay.  Not on a regular stove.  But on a restaurant, huge stove that had the potential to burn the crap out of her. 

*****

Ellie had started seeing a therapist to work through all her sadness and issues with her dad.  Dr C was great with her and Ellie really loved going.  It was my hope that Dr C could get her to talk a little more than I could about her dad. 

Whenever I tried to get her to talk, she was very quiet.  Ellie and I have an amazing relationship.  We talk about a lot of things.  But about HIM, she was always very quiet. 

The therapy helped a lot.  They did play therapy, where they either colored or played with plastic people and made them into scenes about DP and me and Ellie.  After, if Ellie gave the approval to share what had been said or what had happened, I was called into the room and told what went on. 

The things that went on in that room always shocked me and shook me to my core.  Ellie, my sweet baby girl, had the strongest, angriest feelings toward DP that I have ever heard.  It made sense, or course, but I didn’t know that was all inside her and it just ate me up that she was holding that in. 

There were reasons for it.  She just wasn't willing to share it yet.  But, we were getting closer to finding out.

**** 

One week from today, April 18^th, in just about an hour, we will be heading back to court for what I pray is the last time.  I feel compelled to write this today because as we get closer, my heart is getting heavier.  So much rides on this day. 

As I have been writing this, I am awe struck by how much my little one has had to live through.  Her entire life has been in and out of the courts.  I pray and hope that it ends next week.  Selfishly, I’d love to ask you to join me in that.  Prayers, thoughts, good feelings… whatever it is that you do.  April 18^th 9:15am. 

Thank you in advance. 

Our Mini-Series Continues

It was decided to go to court.  My lawyer, LK, figured we had enough information to get him on mental abuse and contempt of court.  We were lucky enough to get a close date.  We had a week to prepare.  I knew that I would be put on the stand.  I knew that I would be emotional.  I also knew that it was worth it.  After all, anything that would protect Ellie would be worth it. 

What DP would do or how he would act was a crap-shoot.  No one could say and it wasn’t worth hazarding a guess.  Would he admit to what he was doing or not? It would come down to his word against mine. 

I put on my “lawyer suit.” (The same suit and shirt I wore every time I went to court.  Ellie called it my lawyer suit because she thought I looked like a lawyer in it.  Personally I detested putting it on.  I tried occasionally to change the shirt underneath, but Ellie never thought it was right.  I had to trust her.  Once the zipper in my pants broke, it zipped in the back, and still wore them.  My lawyer suit… I may burn it after all is said and done.) and I was ready.  I always went to the court house too early.  It seemed like it was longer away then it really was.  Court generally started at 9:30.  My lawyer and I usually met at 9.  I was always there at least an hour early.  It was the worst possible thing.  I spent a lot of time in my car, palms sweaty, heart pounding, every scenario going through my mind. 

There are two entrances to the courthouse.  It took few trips, but I figured out which HE used and learned never to use it. 

LK met me at about 9.  We went over the questions for the umpteenth time.  I was ready. 

Standing as Judge R came in made it all too real.  While I still felt ready, I knew that it was ultimately up to him.  And, well, he has proven not to like me yet.   Maybe today was the day.

DP was still representing himself. 

LK and I sat on one side of the room.  DP sat in front of the bar on the other.  Behind him the usual folks. 

I was called to the stand first.  I talked about the issues with times – the fact that he was constantly late, the fact that he constantly canceling, the fact that he was constantly not showing up.  I had back up.  I had kept track of the time. 

I talked about the fact that he had never paid for half of her medical records, which were growing by leaps and bounds, at this point.  I showed that I had sent him the receipts asking for the money.  

My lawyer then questioned me about the word “mommy”.   Of course this was risky.  If DP had a lawyer, he could easily call “hearsay.” Knowing that DP didn’t know the law, LK figured we were okay. 

This time, the objection came from the Judge. 

“Come on, Mr K.” He said, “you know that is hearsay. I am not going to allow that.”

Stunned, LK stopped for a minute and tried to think of another way to get the same evidence in.  When he couldn’t, I was released.  DP had no questions for me.  Heart a bit heavier, I walked back to my chair.  It was now DP’s turn on the stand. 

LK asked him about being late, canceling and just not showing up.  He didn’t deny it.  He explained it by saying that sometime his work just called last minute and so he had to go.  As for being late, the documents said he could show up 15 minutes past the start time and the end time and he just said he was using that.  The Judge seemed to think that was okay. 

Then LK asked about using the word “mommy” around him.  Surprisingly, DP fully admitted that it wasn’t allowed.  I was in shock.  He explained that when Ellie was around him, he wanted it to be their time.  He didn’t want to hear about me or how I did things.  He didn’t want to hear my name or any reference to me.  So, yes, he punished her. 

The Judge, up on his chair of power, thought it was cute.  I remember him saying, “I can understand that.”

It was at that moment that I knew I was in this for the longest haul of my life.  Nothing would come easy.  Though I had the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach that something wasn’t right, that Ellie was being mistreated, possibly physically abused, definitely mentally abused, I was not being listened to.  I was not being heard. 

I was defeated.

 ******

April is national Child Abuse Awareness month. 

I never thought I’d be connected to one of the victims of these hateful and despicable crimes.  During the month of April, if there are events around you, please go.  Though we should all be doing it regularly, this gives us a time to learn how to protect our children. 

Children who live with violence and abuse learn at an early age that the world is a dangerous place. The reality is that one out of every four children in Oregon lives in a home where violence occurs and almost as many will be molested some time before their 18th birthday. Last school year 12,043 children were victims of child abuse/neglect in Oregon – 50% of these children were younger than 6 years old. 17 of these children died.

§  One in four girls and one in seven boys will be molested before the age of eighteen.

§  Family members are the perpetrators in ninety-four percent of child abuse cases.

Those are staggering statistics.  Gut wrenching.  Please be aware of the happenings in your child’s life.  Also, please pay attention to those children your child spends time with.  If you suspect a problem, by all means, talk to someone about it.  Trust your gut.  Ask questions.  Make sure you are looking at your neighborhood, and not just your own backyard.  These kids need us.