So Very Close to Being Done

It has been 4.5 months since our verdict...

Yesterday my phone rang and caller ID said, "lawyer".  It made my heart race.  I hadn't seen that ID for 4.5 months and, as lovely as my lawyer was, I would be fine never seeing it again.

She was calling with good news.  She started the call off with letting me know that.  After working with me for 9 years she knows that is how I need to start the call  - tell me upfront.  Good news or bad news.  And then go.

It seems the judge had ruled on the issue of DP having to pay part of my court fees.  If you take what has been spent on this last 9 years - My lawyer, Ellie's lawyer, Ellie's therapist, the Psycho-therapist the court appointed, - I could have bought a small island, or possibly two.  And having Ellie safe with me, it was a bargain.  The best money spent.

According to my lawyer the Judge had ruled that a significant amount of our total must be paid back by DP.  She, my lawyer, was surprised by how much the Judge had agreed to.  She said it wasn't a regular thing to do.  I think she chose to call instead of email me this news because I think she was looking for some excitement from me.  I just don't have that feeling.  Reality is that I have not, do not, will not get child support from DP... why would anyone in the world think I would ever see a cent of this judgement? What is the saying? Getting blood from a turnip? So, this follows him everywhere... well, if someone could find him, that would be neat and then it could start following him.  I just don't really care.  The only thing that made me happy is that we are a step closer to being done.

The next step, said DR, is to "close out the case." I needed to give her the okay to do that.  Basically, as I understand it, she tells the courts that this case is over and if DP (or anyone for that matter) wants to reopen it they have to go through me rather than through her.  Again, I don't care much because I don't THINK anything more will happen.  The only thing I care about is we are again, one step closer to being done.

My thought is that by the beginning of 2014 all judgement will be filed and our case will officially be CLOSED...And at some point in my life, lawyer bills will be paid.

Our lives are back to being our lives.... I have extra time because I am not always thinking of this case, what could happen, what should happen, what might happen. I'm not dealing with lawyers.  I literally didn't realize how much time it was taking up. Ellie has been able to be on a soccer team the last few months. She also just went through basketball tryouts.  We have never been able to devote that much time to something and it is wonderful.  I get the biggest thrill watching Ellie have fun and be carefree.

I thought I knew how horrible it was on my health - but I didn't know the extent it hurt me.
Now that it is nearly over, I feel better every day.

But, the biggest change is Ellie.  She has changed...and all for the better.  More care-free, not as anxious and 100% full of joy.  That kid, all 50 pounds of her is pure joy.  And it is contagious.

We fought a battle I was not willing to lose.  It was hard, it was gut-wrenching, time-consuming, expensive and painful.  On the other end of it we feel blessed.

Both of us know one thing for sure - we want to make sure there was a reason for it all.  We have each pledged to give back.  Ellie will one day help other kids going through this and I will try to do something to change our court systems.

We are blessed, we have each other.  I have a girl bursting with JOY.

Mostly, we are happy it is nearly over.

The End is in Sight

Our court battle (and, I do mean battle) has been over for just over 10 weeks and I still am finding it hard to sit and write the "ending"... For a while I thought it was because I didn't want to think about things. Then I thought maybe it was because I had a lot of other things going on in my life.  Now I realize, It is because I want to do it justice and I am afraid I can't... The accumulation of YEARS of my life and my daughters life all came down to this one day... AND WE WON...

It was not a huge, grand finish, like I somewhat wanted.  But, it is over.  100% over.

And, in writing it, I want to express every detail because it is crystal clear in my mind.  And, I worry I will fail with that task.

Buckle up, and I will do the best I can do with the most important things I think you might want to know after this long journey...




Court was currently set for April but it turns out our first and most important witness, DJ, Ellie's therapist wasn't going to be in town.  We made a motion to change the date and the next available was June 4.

At the beginning of May preparation for the trial got underway.  More correspondences between my attorney and myself.  So I wasn't taken too off guard when I got an email late May 15th.

Then I started reading.

DP's attorney was pulling out the case.  He was saying he couldn't represent his client anymore for several reasons and wanted off the case.  Apparently, you have to put in a request to be taken off, we (my side) have the right to argue, if we want, and then the judge decides whether that lawyer can be let go or not.

My attorney suggested not arguing, saying most of the time judges grant this particular motion.  Waste of money and time to argue.

We continued to get ready: lists of questions for me, subpoenaing our witnesses, lists of questions for the witnesses (I am not entirely sure that is what you call them at this point, but that is what I am going with), etc.

Getting ready for this trial now wasn't as clear cut as before.  Now, with DP representing himself, it was a crap shoot of what would happen.  No legal guidelines would be followed by him.

Ellie had an appointment to meet with her lawyer, SH, to make sure SH was representing Ellie as clearly as possible.  We sat, this time, in the big conference room.  Chairs triple Ellie's size.  10 of them around a huge wooden table. Ellie, her lawyer and myself.  Feeling small in a gigantic room. Ellie's lawyer, though big in spirit and personality, isn't much bigger than Ellie... I always feel huge next to the to two of them, but in this room, even felt small.

"I want to be there." Ellie said speaking of the court date that was approaching.

SH explained why that wasn't a good idea.  I had done so about 3 dozen times, but Ellie's drive to have the judge really hear HER was strong.  She wasn't letting it go.
SH, who is all of 85 pounds, a very petite young woman, really put her foot down after the third plea.

"Ellie, I will not allow you to be in the same room as your dad."
Ellie correct her with his name, instead of "your dad."

She then asked, is there anything you want to tell DP?

Ellie took the 8X11 yellow legal pad from SH's hands.  She wrote "I HATE U" and set down the pen.
The room was eerily quiet.

Those are strong words.

In our house we don't use the word "hate."

25 cents in a jar, if you do.  To Ellie those words are as serious as you get.

My little girl just stared straight ahead.

SH finally broke the silence.  She asked if there was anything specific Ellie wanted her to tell the judge.  Ellie asked if she could write the judge a letter.  SH thought that was a great idea and said she would give that to me and Ellie for homework.  We were there on a Wednesday and she'd like to have it by Friday.

"No," Ellie said.  "I want to write it now."
Never one to stand in her way, SH suggested we take the legal pad and I transcribe as Ellie spoke.  She'd excuse herself and be back in a bit.
Ellie started speaking.

The words that came from my little girl's mouth were intense.  She spelled it out for Judge R. as if she were an eloquent woman with many more years of wisdom than she and I had together.  She had obviously been thinking about what she would say and she was ready with words so powerful tears burned my eyes.  Someday, if Ellie wants to share that letter, I will encourage her.  It is not for me to do here.

Instead, it is for me to say our system is messed up.  For any child to have to go through what Ellie has had to endure - not just the pain of what her own flesh and blood did to her - but what the judicial system continued to do to her time and time again, dragging this mess out, is ugly.  It is hurtful and wrong and someday I hope to do something to change it.

We gave the letter to SH and I told her I hoped it was the last time I set foot in her office. She smiled and hugged us both and Ellie and I were on our way.

                                                       ********

Just before you go to court, the lawyer(s) write a summary of what they are going to say to the Judge and the court and present it to the Judge prior to the actual hearing.  I am not entirely sure of the hows and the whys behind this, but in my head it makes sense to re-familiarize the Judge with what has happened (the document also states the history of the case) and what is going to happen.  I would assume people in that role see many cases and can't keep them all clear in their heads. Then it basically also states what our side is going to present.  I think this gives the judges some time prior to court to think about what they are going to say...

Sitting with the pre-court documents from my lawyer and Ellie's lawyer a couple nights prior to our big day, my heart was so heavy. Just remembering what we had been through. And, also looking at all of the facts of this very clear cut case.  The time, energy, money, pain, sweat and tears that had gone into all of this made no sense.

Sleep was no where to be found as I played every scenario over in my head for our next appearance in court.

The day finally came.

I was, of course, first to be there. Always had been in the past, why start anything different now.

DJ, Ellie's therapist came next.  Then Ellie's attorney and finally mine.
CS (the person who said DP needed a psycho-sexual evaluation), our final witness was going to be showing up about an hour into the hearing.

DP... no where to be found.

Not there.

Court was on for a 9:30 start.

At 9:30, I knew in my heart, he wasn't coming.

As hard as I could, I pleaded with my lawyer to not let the Judge continue this.  Of course, it was not in her hands, as none of it had been all along, and she agreed with me, but I was fearful that he would again say, "we will come back in 6 months..."

9:45, "will you please stand for the Honorable JR.".

I stood. Shaking.

My side was full.
The other side of the courtroom empty.

Judge R had us sit and started speaking.

I will paraphrase, "Amy Emery is here with her counsel... yada yada yada... DP is not here."

Then he looked at me. He said, "the court has wronged you and your daughter and we owe you a sincere apology.  I am sorry you have had to go through so much to prove what you had been saying all along.  I am sorry for your daughter, because I can't imagine what she has been through and I hope you will tell her I have said that. DP will have no rights to Ellie, no access, no medical records, no access to school records.  He does not have the right to appeal."

I was a heaping pile of mush.  It was over.
The words I had so longed to hear, were spoken.

The apology, though it didn't matter a whole lot, was even sincere.  It was heart felt.  He knew, to some degree, that he had made this terrible tragedy go on far too long.

The good news on the back end, is because it was so complex and painstakingly drug out, DP cannot appeal. Done. Shut. Case closed. Gavel hit.

I sat, and cried.  They were tears of happiness and relief.  Tears that had been building for years.  Literally years.

Finally, I was able to come back to life a bit, hugs were given, congratulations were said and I felt happy.

That happiness had been seriously void from our lives for awhile.  This fight, this battle was so hard and stressful. And though we weren't constantly in court, or constantly talking about it, it was at the root of our everyday.  There was no way around that...

And, now it was over.

I drove straight to Ellie's school because I could not wait to tell her.
When I got to the front office, they called her out of her classroom and I stood in the hall.

As she rounded the corner she saw me and her gait slowed a bit.  Of course she wasn't expecting me.  She might have even been so busy in school work that she forgot was happening that day.  She was surprised to see me standing there.

I bent down to be at her level - she was still many feet away from me.

"we won." I said.

"We won?" She asked back

"YES." I yelled, probably too loudly for a hallway.

Ellie sprinted toward me and barreled into my arms.  I held her so tightly in that hallway and we both cried. Tears of joy this time.  It had been awhile.

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.  

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 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.  

Cursing

As the visits went on and Ellie got older, she was able to tell me more.  I could see Ellie changing.  I am a strong believer in Mother’s Intuition.  I knew something was wrong.  She would fight harder and harder each time we would have to go to visitation.  She didn’t cry as much, but the build-up was such that we started preparing nearly a day early. 

Now this could be hard because DP could easily not show or cancel.  Then Ellie had to question “why doesn’t my dad love me?” “why does he keep doing this?”… But the preparation, as far as just talking about what was going to happen, how short it was going to be, that I would be there when it was over, etc, became part of our weekly lives as well.  When she did go, my talkative Ellie would clam up when she got home.  The question of “what did you do?” was always answered by “nothing.”  I would try to push it a little, “You had to do something.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” … and that would be that. 

DP started to change too.  The once tolerable hand off of Ellie where he would come into Fred Meyers, Ellie would look at me with crocodile tears and ask, “do I really have to go?” And I would say hi to him -  got worse.  He didn’t even walk up to us anymore.  It was literally as if he wanted us to see him walk in the door of the Fred Meyers, and then Ellie to leave me and walk to him.  I refused to play along with this game.  This was teaching Ellie nothing good in the manners department and she was already so reluctant to go, there was no way I would push her to him.  Each time he tried it, I motioned him over.  I would at least be civil with a hello and Ellie would get one last hug in. 

 He also started to push the time.  Now every single time he got her, he was 15 minutes late.  I refused to go late.  I hope at some point this resonates with Ellie, though right now, I don’t know how.  She didn’t understand if we knew he would be late, why we had to be on time.  I was trying to teach her that promptness is good and hope it makes sense sometime.

We used to play a game while waiting for him.  We could see a mirror from the place that we sat and we would try to figure out if it was going to be him or not by looking at the mirror and watching the next person come in.  It seemed to pass the time a little and was just our thing to do. 

As far as returning her, he went well beyond the 15 minutes.  20, 25 minutes was not unreasonable.  I didn’t get texts or phone calls saying he was running late or that he would be there soon or anything.  My fear every night was that he wasn’t coming back with her.  I would sit on the Fred Meyer bench and anxiously await a bobbing little head coming toward me.  It is amazing how slowly 25 minutes can go by.

I found out later, from Ellie, that he did this on purpose.  He wanted to show me who was boss and that he didn’t have to play by the rules.  It makes total sense.  Being late gets to me.  But, to have your child say to you, “Mommy, my daddy says he doesn’t have to be there at 5, because he knows it makes you angry and he doesn’t have to play by the rules.” And not talk bad about him, is a truly tough thing to do. 

The other thing that changed drastically was where the drop-offs happened.  The Fred Meyers that we went to had 2 double-doors that automatically opened.  In the middle of those was a fully-enclosed area where carts were kept as well as a few video games and such.  Originally, DP would walk Ellie into the bench where I would be sitting, beyond the second double doors.  He stopped doing that.  His new thing was to walk her through the first set of double doors, whisper something in her ear and let her walk the rest of the way by herself.  This was every single time.  When I asked what he had whispered, Ellie told me that she couldn’t tell me. 

The feeling in my gut was so strong that something was wrong I wanted to explode.  As much as I tried to explain it to people, and I heard the “yes, that is horrible” it just didn’t settle me. 

Asking my lawyer what we could do did little good.  He had not paid child support, but that would get us nowhere.  We could go back to court and probably get him for contempt for not paying ½ of her medical needs and not paying attention to the times. But, we couldn’t bring any or my feelings in, couldn’t bring in anything that Ellie had said, because that was hearsay.  We were really at in a bad situation. 

It was around this time that Ellie turned 5 and she was diagnosed with precocious puberty.  I felt it my duty to call DP and let him know about this.  We literally had not spoken since that night at Izzy’s.  He answered my call and I tried to explain in a very calm matter what was happening.  He became erratic and insisted that he be at every appointment that I had lined up at Doernbecher’s for the next week.  Well, I remarked, that would not be wise, seeing as the two of us don’t get along and Ellie doesn’t enjoy her time with you, I only saw that as being MORE stressful than what was already happening.  I told him I would keep him informed of everything and practically begged him to be nicer to me when were at Fred Meyer.  I also asked for a check of his watch.  I explained he was teaching Ellie poor habits.  That got a laugh.  I didn’t expect much.

At this point the texts started.  DP started texting me at odd hours of the night with blank texts or texts that simply didn’t make sense.  The texts would be 5-10 minutes apart and have things like “8 Her 90 m” on it.  And then 10 minutes later “I can’t” and then 10 minutes later a blank text.  One could say there is the mistaken, misdialed text, but I put this nowhere on the same page.  These came at midnight or after.  And several nights a week. 

Dealing with this, Ellie just getting sick and me trying to figure out how to get him either out of her life or a better father, my head was clouded.  And, I couldn’t get away from the feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

******

I picked Ellie up on a Sunday, 5:20, late as usual and she was as quiet as a mouse.  I asked her what they had done for the weekend and her response was “nothing.”  “Come on, Ellie, you had to do something.” I pushed.  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Came the response. 

It was very quiet in the backseat as we drove home.  I was trying to figure out how to handle it because something obviously had happened.  When we got home, Ellie looked at me and told me she was tired and was going to get ready for bed.  Anyone who knows my daughter, knows that this is the oddest behavior for her.  Sure, she is really good about going to bed when asked, but she certainly will never voluntarily go to bed.  I stopped her right there.

I sat her down on the couch, it was time for a heart to heart. 

“Ellie, remember you can tell me anything.” I started off.

“No, mommy, I can’t. I am just going to go to bed. Okay?”

I didn’t want to make things worse than they obviously were for her, so I offered to help her get ready – asked if she wanted a bath or to have dinner and helped her along the way.  But there was something eating at her. 

Lying down with her, I felt her tiny body start to cry. 

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” I asked. 

“Why is Mommy a bad word?” She asked.

“What?”

“Daddy says that Mommy is a bad word and I can’t use it.  Every time I do, I get in trouble.”

I asked for a deeper explanation trying to keep my head on straight once again.  For “his weekend with Ellie” DP had picked her up and taken her to his friends house.  Ellie didn’t know these people and was left there while DP went to work (odd that he was working and I was seeing no money from that… but I digress and we will get back to that at some point).  When he finally came back that night, Ellie said she wanted to go home, could he text “Mommy” and have me come get her?

At that point, DP declared a new rule.  Mommy was now a bad word and if it came out of Ellie’s mouth again, she would be in trouble.  Anytime around him, it was not to be used.  She asked for clarification but couldn’t figure out how to do it without using “mommy” and got in trouble time after time after time that night.  She said she cried the whole night through.  The next morning she was taken back to these people’s house and left there again.  When it was time to drop her off, DP came and got her and brought her to Fred Meyer. 

That was it.  I was done.  Whether we had enough to go on or not, I wanted to go back to court.  In my mind, this was emotional abuse.  Not being able to talk about the person you are with 98% of the time is ridiculous.  And the fact that she was not willing to tell me what “trouble” meant scared me even more. 

I called my lawyer. 

Arcades and Movies and Curfews ... Oh My

Each visit was the same.  DP would show up just as we would be leaving as the clock struck 9:15 and there was a physical battle with trying to get Ellie to go with him.  The chaos would be enough for the entire Fred Meyer store to stop what it was doing and look at us.  I’d often suggest going outside to the parking lot so as not to become the circus act of the morning. 

DP would generally call and want to “deliver” her earlier than his time was allotted, but would never be there when he said he would be.  If he said, let’s meet at 8pm Saturday night, he would be there at 8:15.  It was a game to him.  There is no question in my mind. 

Each visit was the same in activity as well.  They would do one of three things.  Chuck E Cheese, Wunderland, or Safari Sam’s.   Now, I get that these three places are kid-friendly and upon occasion can be argued to be fun and exciting.  I even took Ellie to Safari Sam’s last week.  So, in principal, I have no huge qualms about a few of those places.  The issue I have and will always have is that he had the potential to have her 69 hours a month.  And those times were canceled.  Those times were late. Those times were spent playing video games.  Separately, not together.  They were not spent in ways that I would think you would want to really get to know your child. 

It astonished me when I got her back and I would say, what did you talk about? And the answer would be: nothing. 

The music was up too loud when they were driving to have a conversation and then when they went to one of these places, these “fun-lands” … he went one way and she went the other.  She had fun at the venues.  What kid wouldn’t? But, was that the purpose of the visits?

Often she would come home with wet pants.  This is after she was potty trained.  She never could find him to take her to the bathroom and so she would just wet herself.  Then, embarrassed to tell him, she would spend the day or evening in her soaked pants.  And, he never noticed. 

The exchange between the two of us was horrible.  I tried to be civil and have at least a pleasant “hello”.  But, he couldn’t even “stoop” to that.  He fought through the struggle to get Ellie and left. 

These horrifying moments were torturous to take.  I was sending her with this man who was not watching her, not being careful with her, not listening to her and she didn’t want to go.  Could I blame her? Absolutely not.  Yet, the law dictated that this was good for her. 

There was a day that was around the year point after he had started having her.  And he asked me to go to dinner with the two of them on Wednesday night.  I could literally count on my two hands the number of words we had exchanged up until that point so I was blown away by the request.  I had no desire to go.  I had no desire to be in the same vicinity with him.  I was so sick to my stomach by what he said that I immediately said no and turned around.  Then Ellie pulled on me and begged, Please. 

How could I say no to that?

We walked from the Fred Meyer parking lot to Izzy’s.  My stomach turning over and over again thinking what is this about? Is he moving? Is he dying? Does he need to tell me he can’t do this visitation thing anymore? Is he going to ask for more time? Less?

When we sat down, I asked immediately, “what’s up?” and he said, “wow, you cut to the chase.”

I remember saying, “you asked me here for a reason and I am curious what it is.”

He said, “I have some questions about how to take care of Ellie.”

Wow… I was shocked.  Was he coming to actually try to be a better parent?

“Okay… specifically… what do you mean?”

“For example, what do you do with her?”

“I play with her, take her to the park, talk to her, take walks.”

“How many movies can she watch a day?”

“One at the most,” I said

“How many are you letting her watch?” I asked.

“You don’t want to know,” he said.

“What about bedtime?” he asked.

“When do you put her to bed?” I replied

“Well, the last time I had her overnight we left the arcade in North Portland at 10:30 so we didn’t get home until 11.”

“She is 4 ½ ” I blurted out.  “What is a 4 ½ year old doing at an arcade in the first place and in the 2^nd place why is she staying out that late?”

“She likes it” he said.

“Of course she does.” I retorted.

By this time my heart was in my throat and I couldn’t see straight.  What was happening when he had her? It was much worse than I had thought.  I was thinking of the dungy dirty arcades and my 4 ½ year old being there at 10:30 at night.  And then the next morning watching movies until it was time for me to pick her up. 

I calmly took a breath and said, “look… you don’t have her that long.  Why don’t you skip the arcades and the Chuck E Cheeses and actually spend time with her? Do you know her favorite color? What she likes to do? Do you know that she wets her pants almost every time she is with you because she can’t find you and then she is afraid to tell you? And, WE, you and I, need to be civil.  Whether you realize it or not, she is watching us. When you come to get her, can you at least acknowledge me? And, would it hurt you to be on time? It is teaching her to be late.  And, I don’t think that is good.”

He thought about it all for a moment and then said, “you have good points.”

Dinner was over and I was done.  He still had time to visit with her, but said I could take her home.  That was fine with me.  I wanted to go scrub her free of the arcade she had been to a week before. 

The next time we met, I had high hopes for an on-time departure and a “hello” from her dad.  Neither came true.  And, they spent the day at Chuck E Cheese.

He texted me around 3pm to see if I could pick her up early.  

Supervised Visitations

Court is a surreal thing.  You are there, either with representation, or without.  1 or 2 people sitting on either side of the room; and the Judge in front.  “The Bar” separates those people and the rest who are there for either the case in front of the Judge at that time or another that might be being heard after.  There are generally 2 other people in front of the bar; the person keeping the notes, and another -  an assistant to the Judge. 

All of this continues day in and day out.  The idea that one man or one lady… the Judge here, has the final ruling on what happens is what baffles me.  Sure, you want to believe in our system, you want to hope that this Judge is going to know all that has taken place and have the person’s best interest at heart that they should (the child in family court), but do they? Do they spend enough time with each case to understand the idiosyncrasies of each case, or is it that each case is somewhat like a cookie cutter case and while some of the insides change just a little bit, the Judge wants the outside to look the same and will do whatever it is to make that happen?

I am a true believer that our system, the one we have in this glorious, rich, beautiful country of ours, is broken.  And it hurts those that it should protect, the children.

DP sat on the stand, sworn in and admitted to leaving.  He admitted to using cocaine, he admitted to using meth, marijuana and alcohol.  And then he said, that he was clean now.  He further explained that he came back because he wanted to have a life with his child and he was a different man then most.  Most men, especially black men, he went on, would just stay away, but, he, oh, he, wanted to be in his child’s life and was ready to do so. 

While I heard these words I knew we would be okay.  Surely, after admitting that he was a drug user, he would have to go through some kind of testing or counseling before anything else happened.  Ellie would certainly be safe from this man, a mystery man at this point in her life. 

My lawyer went on to question him.  She asked about the times he was in the psychiatric ward.  She asked if he took the medicine prescribed to him.  Or course he didn’t, I thought, and I was thrilled as I was sitting taller in my seat.  We are going to walk out of here and this is going to OVER.

When it came my time for questions, I was able to talk about the time that DP left.  The time that he was on all 4’s over me.  How scared I had become, the restraining order I had just gotten.  I talked about living at my aunts, I talked about my fear of him and how I felt that he added nothing to Ellie’s life as he was right now, but perhaps if he got help, we could revisit it later. 

As I sat down, the judge already had his ruling, he explained that he thought DP was right, not many men would come back.  It was good that he wanted to be involved and this was the first step.  He would have supervised visitation.

As the words came out of the Judge’s mouth, I saw my small daughter in my eyes and my heart fell to the floor.  I was in shock.  Had he not heard that he was going to make our lives’ a living hell? Had he not heard that he was a drug user? And who was he to believe he had stopped? Was he looking at the same man that I was?

Before I could make sense of anything, as the tears were rolling down my face the Judge said, that we would have to pick a supervisor.  I had always known of supervised visitations to be done by the state and for the parent doing the visiting to have to pay for them.  My lawyer suggested just that and the Judge, again, in my opinion, pro-DP, said that since “dad” didn’t have any money and didn’t have a job there would be no way for him to pay. So, let’s be fair and figure out another way. 

I’m sorry what?

Huh?

Did I just hear all that correctly?

So, because he is a worthless bastard who is living off the state, let’s give him pity and have WHO supervise my precious daughter and him???

As the Judge looked at me and said, “Mom, do you know anyone who would be willing to do the supervising?” I nearly became unglued.  Well, I did come unglued.  I started to explain how wrong I thought this all was and that nothing here seemed right and that he should be tested for drugs and he should be in counseling and that someone for the state should supervise.  It fell on deaf ears. 

The Judge repeated, “mom, any suggestions?”

I didn’t have any.  No one I knew would want to be around him.  I was stunned.  It was all moving so fast.  I shook my head no. 

“Dad, any suggestions?”

“Yes.”

Again, my mouth fell to the floor.  What on Earth was this man going to suggest?

“I’d like to suggest JH.”

Well, JH happens to be his ex-girlfriend.  Was he serious? As I said before, she was there.  The judge asked if she was willing to do it.  Of course she was.  Then he turned to me:

“Mom, and objections?”

“Yes, too many to know where to start.”

“Well,” said the Judge, “if you don’t have another person, this is who we are going to go with.  I will give you 3 minutes”

In the end, I had no one else to go with.  It would end up being JH, DP’s ex-girlfriend.  She and her husband lived in an apartment not far from Ellie and me.  Visitations would be once on every weekend for 2 hours and once during the week for 2 hours.  I would take Ellie there, meet JH in the parking lot and pick her up after.  The only people who were supposed to be in the apartment were DP, JH and Ellie.  But, who is to know if that is so or not.  Just one month shy of her 1 year birthday, I was taking Ellie to a woman she didn’t know, in a parking lot, handing her over, for her to take up to a man that she didn’t know.   And so, supervised-visitations began. 

60 Minutes is Not Nearly Enough

I would bet you have all seen Law and Order or maybe even Perry Mason, back in the day.  Not only do they find the person who did it, put them through the trial, hand them a verdict… but it is all done in 60 minutes and that is including commercials. 

I would like to go on record as saying that is bullshit. 

I had the guy.  I had step one checked off.  It should have been easy.  We now enter the phase of court.  And it is long and grueling.

In Washington County in Oregon State in family court, you are given one Judge and that Judge stays with you through your entire, shall we say, career, in the courts.  Our Judge comes with the following:

“Who do you have?” “I have Judge R.” “Ooooohhhh…”

The “Ooooohhhh”  is not a happy sound. It is a sound of pity.  He has a reputation of being sporadic.  He is very pro-both parents being involved no matter what the case is.  (as is Oregon in general – I have heard possible second only to one other state).  He has a background I have learned (yes, I have done my research) that when he was younger his parents divorced and his younger brother committed suicide.  In the suicide note was written that he did so in part because of his parent’s splitting up.  Through the years of getting to know him, I have learned that he will have his mind made up prior to the people involved in the case even entering the building.  Meaning, testimony doesn’t matter.  He comes with, in my humble opinion, a lot of baggage and I wonder at least weekly where we would be had we gotten another Judge. 

But, he was and is ours. 

Before meeting him, I’d have to get a lawyer.  I have had 3 now.  Changed for different reasons along the way.  Keep in mind while reading this, I am currently 8 years into this battle.  It just got more serious as the things DP did got more serious. 

So, we will start at the beginning. 

I hired a lawyer named CV (as you have seen no names just yet, hoping after this is settled and the final gavel is hit I can use them).  She was just out of law school, affordable and I figured I wouldn’t need much; just a plan to get him out of my life.  She actually only appeared in trial with me once; but she did help with a couple of other great things.

******

It was October 14.  I remember because it was his birthday.  It had been about 4 days since he and his sister had come by.  I had gotten several blank text messages from which I assumed was his new number.  A few calls with no messages.  I was trying to be okay with life; but knew hell was about to come. 

There was a knock on the door and I immediately knew it was him.  Ellie and I live in a house where there is a gigantic picture window on the second story.  We can see down below and I saw no car.  Ellie, who was walking already started off and I was chasing her, she was oblivious to the danger lurking outside our house.  The knocking persisted, only louder.  I sat Ellie in the kitchen on the floor and tried to quiet her.  I grabbed the phone ready to call 911.  Now came the yelling. 

“I just want to talk to you; I know you are in there.”  Knock, knock, knock. 

The knocking kept going.

I took Ellie to her room. 

I had the phone in my hand and I answered the door, foot at the base as to only be able to open it a little bit (oh, how much I have learned … don’t answer the door, people).  The door came swinging open, knocking me over and he walked past me to Ellie’s room. 

In a panic I rushed after him and started the call, he took the phone out of my hand and threw it, taking Ellie at the same time.  I was in hysterics. 

He picked Ellie up.  She was now in hysterics.  She didn’t know this stranger and he didn’t know how to hold her.  He tried to cradle her as he had done when she was first born.  I finally got her from him. 

“I am going to make your life a living hell; it is about to get very ugly” He said as he left. 

The only saving grace of that night is that I could get a restraining order.  It was granted to me the following day in a matter of seconds.  He, of course, tried to fight it, but there was no fighting that one. 

The other thing the CV helped me with is that some of DP’s stuff was still at my house.  He had left with only one suitcase of clothes the night he left.   I had packed the rest in boxes and he wanted it and that was fine with me.  The funny part is that he had sent a list of other items he thought he should have as well.  I am not making this list up.  Let me stop for a moment and say that his living arrangements at that time were that he was living with his ex-girlfriend and her new husband (yeah, I know).  So, as I share this list, please remember that he did not have a house of his own, nor had he bought any of the things he was asking for. But, here is his list (I won’t share them all… just the ones I find most amusing):

1 King Size Bed

Dresser

Refrigerator

Washing Machine

Dishwasher

Cordless Telephone

Lawn Mower

So, just to get this straight, you would like to take the Fridge that keeps the food cold for your daughter, that you have not spent a penny on, food or fridge, and put it where?

Needless to say, when I got the list, I was beyond… well, I don’t even know.  I’m looking at the list now, which is actually 3 pages, pretty big font, but 3 pages, and just in awe of it all. 

****

The final thing that CV helped with is going to court the first time.

I was terrified.  I had heard some of the things already about Judge R.  I had no idea what to expect.  I didn’t know if DP would have representation or really what he would be asking for.  So many unknowns the first time you go in. 

My hope, of course, was that he would not be allowed to see Ellie.  He had just threatened us.  He was obviously having issues with drugs and/or alcohol.  This list of items he wanted from my house would have to be ironed out. 

I have always attended court with just my lawyer.  I believe that this is a case between DP and me.  I don’t think that it needs to be a circus with many people watching.  He, on the other hand, brings his ex-girlfriend, her husband, her sister and her mom.  I still have yet to understand it.  I was surprised to see them there the first time.  And still am surprised today. 

He was representing himself.  The Judge thought that was admirable. 

Once those words came out, I knew we were in for a long day. 

From 20 days to 10 months ... He disappeared

From the day that DP left, at 20 days old, until the day Ellie was about 10 months old, I didn’t hear anything from him.  I was in off and on contact with his dad and his sister who lived in Florida.  I had never met them, but I sought them out to try to figure out what to do with his belongings.  I wanted them out of my house and I wanted to close this chapter in my life. 

I went from many feelings of sorrow to just feeling pissed.  How dare he do this to me? To us? I was left with about 2 months to find day care for Ellie.  To go from being a “family” (how quickly those definitions changed in my head) to being a single mom (now … present time – more of a family than ever … but, going through it… it was hard).  It took me about a week to tell anyone that he had left. 

Then it was even harder because no one could find him.  His friends had no idea, his family didn’t hear from him, he literally fell off the face of the Earth.  After about 3 months, I started to pack his things.  I found powered substances and, because he was a chef, thought they just might be baking powder or soda.  However, it was not.  It was cocaine.  Then came the pile of weed I found.  I was blind-sided that he had been doing drugs under my roof.  That he had left the drugs there.  Completely baffled still that I had no clue.  Was I seriously that stupid? His phone was turned off and there was no sign of him anywhere in the city. 

I figured he was dead. 

Soon, I felt nothing. 

Ellie and I would be fine on our own.  Certainly not the way I had it planned, but this was our new life and it would have to work.  We were not given a choice. 

I got a call from his father one night (not a warm, fuzzy man) and he asked if I had heard from DP.  No, I said.  Well, he had decided that he was going to call the local police and do a missing persons report.  The call had come late at night and I asked that they not get me involved.  #1. I had nothing to contribute.  #2. The baby was asleep and I was headed that way and I frankly didn’t want police coming to visit my house.  I believed that people in my neighborhood were talking enough already. 

Shortly thereafter, there was a knock on my door.  The police.  Great.  I didn’t tell them much. Only that I hadn’t hear from him in several months and I wasn’t interested in what they found. 

I learned the next day that they found him.  He was with someone named LH.  She was the mother of his ex-girlfriend.  My emotions got even more on the side of not caring as now that I knew he was alive and didn’t care about his daughter, my patience was zero. 

****

I remember it being a beautiful day out and Ellie and I going for a walk to Walgreens.  She loved to be outside and we were enjoying the weather.  My phone was ringing off the hook with a number that I didn’t recognize.  I hadn’t been answering those numbers because I was worried that something big was about to happen.  I figured if someone needed to talk to me, they could leave a message and I’d get back to them. 

Finally a message. 

It was DP’s sister.  She had come to town from Florida and she was going to stop by my house with DP. 

My heart had never beat THAT fast as it did when I heard those words.  I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want to see her.  I had no interest in any of it.  What makes her think that she could just do that? I was horrified.  I got Ellie inside from our walk and tried to think things through.  My world was starting to turn again. 

I would just call her back, hope to get her voice mail, and tell her no.  If she came anyway, I would just not answer the door.  All of that seemed easy. 

I did just that.  I got the voice mail.  I said, I didn’t want them coming by, it wasn’t right.  And then I hung up and went about our night.  When it came to about 9pm, I thought she had listened.  I felt good about it all.  Ellie was in bed, I was finishing up some work and then there was a knock on the door.  Who shows up at 9 on a “school night?” Especially when you have been asked not to?

I was furious.  The doorbell just kept ringing.  They obviously knew I was there.  If that continued, the baby would wake up.  I opened the door and a ghost of the person I knew was there.  It wasn’t DP.  This person was 30 pounds plus lighter.  And he didn’t weigh that much to begin with.  You could see every vein in his neck.  His face was hallow. I had to look away because it was disgusting to look at.  His sister, probably 6 inches taller than both of us stood “over” us both. 

“Ellie is asleep and I asked you not to come.” I said, not even letting there be an exchange of pleasantries. 

She introduced herself.  I did the same back.  And  then she asked if DP could just see Ellie. 

I said no. 

She asked why and I reinforced the fact that it was late, Ellie was on a schedule.  I then went on to say that if he really wanted to see her, he would have done something in the last 10 months.  I took over a bit by going on a diatribe of questions: where had he been for 10 months, what had he been doing, how could someone do that, etc…

His sister jumped in and said, “that is not what tonight is about.  Tonight is about him seeing his daughter.  It will help him heal.”  What the Fuck? Heal? And since when did it become about him?

No.  They would need to leave. 

Well, couldn’t he just sneak in her room and see her?

No.

I was fearing now that I would have to call the police; the same ones who were just here a couple nights prior. 

DP still had not said a word. No eye contact had been made.  The entire interaction was surreal.  Was he so messed up that he couldn’t speak? My head was literally spinning.  I was praying that Ellie would not wake up.  I just wanted them off my property. 

I finally said that I was going to shut the door. 

His sister said, so you are keeping him from his daughter?

I believe you could see my heart pounding.

I politely said, “she is our daughter.” And yes.

She said, “then I guess we will see you in court.”

****

The good news is that I had already hired a lawyer.

I was going to get full custody of Ellie when he was missing, but had only done the leg work of finding an attorney and retaining her. 

At this point, with his sister saying, we will see you in court, I still figured, I would leave it up to them to do the initiating.  Sadly, though, that night did change the way I lived.  I now looked behind me and in front of me every single time I left my house.  I checked around my house as I pulled in.  I was highly alert of everything I did and everywhere I went.  The happy-go-lucky life we had went out the window.  He was back … and he wanted Ellie.