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.