Another Visit to Court

 So, there I stood holding papers obviously filled out by someone other than DP, or DP had forgotten how to spell his name, as his first name was spelled incorrectly, just stunned.  Really? Full custody.  

Lord have mercy, this is the last thing I needed right now.  

I tried to read through the garbage and muddled print in the pages and finally gave up.  I called my lawyer in the morning and scanned the pages over to her.  She asked if they were delivered by someone certified.  No.  The papers were all a mess.  I was put in the plaintiff category, he was the defensive.  Several other things were incorrect as well and finally I had to laugh about it.  The reality though, nothing was funny.  

How could this man just walk into a courthouse and freely decide to do something like this? Again, dumbfounded.  The dates for this case were even before the one that we had scheduled, so we would be going to court quickly.  Also an error on his part as you need to give ample time to the parties involved.  I believe I had 3 days notice.  

There was nothing in me that thought the Judge would really give him anything that he was asking for.  But, here is the deal - the Judge had me completely guessing and I truly never knew what he was going to rule. So, I didn't know.  

Going to court is very odd, in that you can only talk about certain things at that particular time.  At this time we were going to talk about this ridiculous motion that DP had given to me to take Ellie from me.  Because it was specific to that, we could not bring up the fact that I was being harassed by phone calls or texts.  It was only about this stupid, useless, ridiculous, outlandish court case.  

I don't think I have talked about finances yet.  Going to court is not inexpensive.  Now, believe me, I would do anything it took to take care of Ellie in the proper way.  But, it is things like this that really chap my hide.  My lawyer has to now prepare for a preposterous case and I get billed for every hour, heck, every minute she does so.  We can talk more about finances later. 

I have yet to talk about DR and how she handles things in court.  She lives far away from the Hillsboro court house.  Our cases have always started at 9:30.  And, as I stated before,  I am always there around 7:30, just to be safe.  You never know what will happen in that two hours… oy.  So, when DR comes to court, she shows up at 9:30 and it drives me crazy.  It generally is because of traffic and I trust her 100% that she will be there, but I don’t do well with it. 

Sure enough, on court day, she was there.  I had my “lawyer suit” on, of course. 

We were ready and she was certain it was going to be fast.  The way she thought it was going to go was that the judge would simply throw his case out and ask to see us on the date that already existed in just a few weeks. 

DP showed up, no lawyer still.  Same posse behind him. 

We were the first people called to the front.  Above the bar we went.

Judge Raines asked DP if he knew what he had filled out and DP said yes.  He explained that he had filled out the wrong papers.  He also explained that he couldn’t fill any papers out right now because we (our team, so to speak) had already put something out to say that DP was in contempt of court.  That was what was on the table.  Nothing else could be heard.  DP didn’t understand it.  It had to be explained again.  I wanted to ask if Judge R could break it down as if he was talking to a 2^nd grader, but I held my tongue. 

DR asked for her time to be paid because this was a ridiculous situation (I am sure she put it in much more professional terms).  The Judge said no to that.  She would never see that money.  Was basically what he said.  It was true. 

He said that he would see us in a few weeks. 

******

Meanwhile therapy was continuing for Ellie.  She was going weekly and was making huge progress.  I was, and continue to be very proud of her.  We had found the perfect therapist for her.  

While things were painful, through much talking, play therapy, coloring and tough quiet times, Ellie let the therapist in enough to know that the sexual abuse was not a one-time thing.  Sadly, it was far from it.  She allowed me to sit in after the hour and Ellie told me as well.  That time when you hear it again and try to hold everything in is excruciating.  I didn’t want to get emotional, because I didn’t want Ellie to get sad. 

Part of the issue with Ellie keeping it in was that DP threatened to hurt me.  Whenever he put her down in that FM store and whispered in Ellie’s ear, the whisper was “if you tell your mom, I will hurt her.”

I’d like to stop and have you think about that for a minute.  Can you imagine that? He probably had just abused her, was dropping her off for the night and who knows when he would see her again and that was what he left her with. 

And then, my 6 year old (at the time) had to walk over and pretend that everything was okay.  She had to go on with things like it was okay, holding everything inside.  Can you even begin to imagine how much weight that puts on that little girl’s shoulders?  It breaks my heart.  How did I not know? The idea that something was wrong was there, I just didn’t know how big.  It kills me to think about. 

How could anyone do this to his own child?

The details were nearly too much to take.  But, I listened.  And I ached.  And I was so proud of Ellie for finally opening up and setting herself free and at the same time I wondered, how much more will there be?

We still deal with the physical repercussions of what he did to her on a fairly consistent basis.  UTIs and such are a reminder that sadly we live with. 

The damage of sexual abuse runs deep.  Physical, mental, emotional.  Once it happens, you can’t hide from it and you can’t forget it happened.  Constant reminders are always there.  

From the Happiest Place on Earth Back to Reality

I'm finding the posts more painful to do.  I don't know if it is because I am in a funk over this last decision by the judge (which I definitely am) or  if I know I am getting closer to some really hard things to tell.  Either way, I appreciate the constant companionship as I tell our story.  Again, if I am helping just one person, it is worth it.  I like to believe Ellie will be proud of me for telling it.  The next two years - after things coming to light June 2010 - to now have been nothing short of a nightmare.

******

It was mid-July and we were back from Hawaii with a new dog and yet the dark cloud of what happened never quite moved away.  Ellie continued to see her therapist every week.  It served her well.  She needed it and I was happy we had  found her.

On the legal front, no one could find DP.  He seemed to have skipped town.  This was of little surprise to me.  

The case and thus, Ellie and I, were assigned a DHS employee.  She came over and interviewed me and then she interviewed Ellie.  After she told me that Ellie had said the same thing she said at CARES and there was really nothing to be done.  Again, I was floored.  Our case would remain open just in case.  

She did say there had been a couple of other calls on him about Ellie and so there was already some history there.  My assumption was that it was from her child care provider.  But, the DHS employee was unable to tell me and felt she had let too much slip already. 

Days were dark. 

Nights were scary. 

Life had changed. 

The cloud that hung over us was low and thick. Not knowing where he was was haunting.  It was hard to sleep and so hard to want to get out of bed to do anything.  Depression hit harder than ever before.  

I would have done anything to erase what had happened.  The ridiculous amount of guilt I felt was heavy.  

When Ellie asked to go do Disneyland, I answered yes, without hesitating.  Could I afford it? Heck no.  We had just gotten back from a trip to Hawaii.  Was it a plan we had for the summer... Absolutely not.  But, my goodness, at this point, if the kid wanted to go to the moon, I was going to make it happen.

******

The happiest place on Earth was indeed happy.  It felt like if we were away things were better.  The distance between us and Oregon made life just that much easier.  

We slept much more than expected and it made me realize how much this situation was weighing on us both.  We got up as early as we could.  Smiled when we realized how late it was and headed to celebrate the freedom that we had.  Something that was not lost on either of us.

We enjoyed every inch of Disneyland and that trip, as well as the Hawaii trip will be remembered as something that brought Ellie and me closer.

Getting on the plane was not easy.  Though it went untalked about, we both knew what we were coming back to.  A life of looking around the corners, being a little more scared in the dark and a little more uneasy about everything.  The dark cloud.

******

DP was still nowhere to be found.  

Several weeks later I got an email from him though that said, "I am coming to get my daughter."  

Of course this stirred my emotions and caused me great fear. It also went back to my fundamental issue of how much do I tell Ellie.  I was always so torn about this.  I didn't want to scare her more than she already was.  I also was stubborn - most people would say probably too stubborn - on the fact that I didn't want to change my life over him.  I didn't want to take the fear he was causing me/us and have to uproot what we had in case he really was coming.  Did this put her/us in jeopardy? Did this cause my parents to lose sleep? Did this make me crazy? Things that will never be answered.  But, I had to control something and this was one thing I could control.  There were a few times when I felt we were in too much danger and we did leave for a few nights but this wasn't one of them.  At this point, I didn't even feel like he was actually in the same state at this point, so I felt okay staying at home.  Did I sleep that night? Probably not... but, gosh darnit, I was in my own bed!

*****

The harassment got crazier.  Texts were 6-7 a night.  Nonsense of texts to threatening.  Life was not easy.  And each and every day contained the question, "is my dad in jail?" from Ellie. 

Ellie was starting school in September and I was fearful of letting her out of my sight and into the school.  I had to make the school extra aware of the issues and fully aware that he was not to come any where near the school.  

Around October, he was found and incarcerated.  He spent less than 72 hours in jail.  That was it.  The jails are full.  And he only had to spend 72 hours.  

*****

I didn't hear much from him for awhile and I thought that maybe the time behind bars settled him down.  

Then, at the end of November, I got an email that said, "I want to see my daughter, I will meet you at Fred Meyer on December 7th."

Holy Shit.  My hands started sweating, my heart started pounding, and I automatically panicked.  

Now I will tell you this, I will never let this man see Ellie.  That is not going to happen.  But, the words, the thought, scared me.  More than scared me, it terrified me.  

I automatically contacted my lawyer.  She told me to calm down.  I will have to talk about her demeanor later.  She has a good way about her.

It was time to stop resting on our laurels and go back to fighting.  We would put in a motion with the courts the very next day that we wanted to a trial to that DP could have no contact with Ellie.  It was said, it was done and court date was set for mid-December.  AFTER, the date of December 7th.  

*****

DP would, of course be receiving information about this court date, which would stop his hope to see her (in anyone else's head) and we would prepare for court.  

At the very beginning of December, a knock on my door and a man in a suit appeared, just as my parents were leaving one night.  I had no idea who the man was, but opened the door.  He handed me the papers and said, "consider yourself served."  

Again, shaking, pounding, blinding by the shock of it all.  

I wanted to shield Ellie from it all, so my dad took Ellie as I ripped open the document.  Inside was a poorly filled out paper saying the DP stated that I was a bad parent; lying to and coercing his daughter.  He was also requesting child support from me.  And, for the grand finale, he was requesting full custody of Ellie.  

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.

Why Did I Pick Forrest Gump?

My guess is that those who know me would describe me as fairly intelligent.  Perhaps even a little above average.  I have a good job with the same company for the last 14 plus years, I can maintain well (I mean good … gotcha) conversations with people and sound like, may even know what I am talking about.  I read and can honestly say I am not stupid.  Which bodes the question.

How did I end up with this guy?

This man who, among other things has been called Forest Gump-like (that one has to be my favorite).

It’s a great question and one I have been asked more than a dozen times.

I’d like to set the record straight.  DP wasn’t always like this.  Now, I will say this – I don’t think we were meant for each other.  I really don’t.  We had a great time together.  He was fun to be around and in the time that we spent together we were great friends and laughed hard.   It was nice to have someone around and he was that person.  He was fun and spontaneous and I guess that is what I wanted at that point in my life.   

Hands down, he was one of the best chefs in Portland. Throw in charisma and I would say that he would make the top 3 in Portland.  He was always asked to be on the stage at The Bite in Portland or at Bones and Brew.  He was well known in the circle of chefs and did his job well. 

We dated for 4 years.  So, I knew him well (or so I was led to believe) and he wasn’t the man I know today.  Far from it.  You could pretty much set your clock by my period, so, when it didn’t come, I knew something was off.  Pregnant.   I remember the night that I told him.  We were watching TV later in the evening and one of his friends, a cop who often visited his restaurant had committed suicide.  DP was beside himself.  He left 

my side and went out drinking.  This would soon become the norm. 

My pregnancy was not an easy one.  I was sick every day and not just in the mornings.  Day, night, mid-night, mid-mornings, noon… If there was a time, I was nauseous.  I found foods that tasted just as good going down as they did coming back up (oh, there is a science involved!).  I worked downtown at the time and often took conference calls on the floor of my office, waste bucket next to me.  My colleagues were thrilled with the joy of my pregnancy.  I remained sick right through my 2^nd   trimester.

Most days DP was nowhere to be found.  He still had an apartment and I was plugging away on my own at my house.   We’d talk occasionally.  He was disconnected from the baby and me.  I was sad, embarrassed, worried.  Growing up in a home where my parents are still together, I had never thought of being a single mom, and I wanted this to magically work somehow.  In my mind, at the time, there was no other way.  We would find a way to get along and would be a family.  When I think about this, I can’t believe how strongly I believed this.  What’s odd is that I was/am a strong woman.  I know I can get through things.  I don’t know if my desire to make things work came from the hormones that were flowing through my body, the small, picturesque town I grew up in, or my childhood dreams being smashed into pieces, but I really thought it would all come together just fine. 

Not that I didn’t have a great support system, but this was pre-facebook, a time when the people you talk to are harder to reach out to than turning on a computer.  My friends were all happily married, most with kids.  Of course that is how it would turn out.  Me, DP and the baby that was growing inside me. 

The day before my birthday, I was 16 weeks. I had to fly to Chicago for a meeting.  I was surprised that on my actual birthday I didn’t hear from DP at all.  Late night Chicago time, finally a call came in from the number at his restaurant.  It was his best friend.  He asked if I had heard from DP. 

“No,” I answered, and knew quickly that something wasn’t right.

“He was let go this morning,” his friend said, “and he left in a very bad way.” 

I realize that losing a job is traumatic.  I can’t imagine it. I have been blessed to make it through many cutbacks at work.  I count my lucky stars each time I make it.  I think that to women and men the aftermath of losing a job might be different even (I’m guessing here).  I suspect men , as a whole, might take it a little harder.  And then to Chefs, they take it even harder.  Chefs don’t cook; they ARE chefs.  DP was his job.  My gut ached when I heard he lost his job.  I asked why. 

“Sexual Harassment” said the voice on the phone.

We talked a bit longer and I asked him to check DP’s apartment again and then to check my house.  The conference was set for 2 more days in Chicago, but I knew I had to go home.  I knew something wasn’t right and my boss agreed.  He got me on the red-eye home and away I flew. 

When I landed, I drove by his apartment, no car.  I drove home and his car was in my garage.  It was the middle of the night and I walked in.  The smell of alcohol engulfed me.   Upstairs every bit of counter space was filled by an empty bottle of some kind.  I didn’t know how one person, especially his size could have consumed all of that and still be alive.  I walked into the bedroom and there he was sprawled out and still breathing. 

I figured I’d let him sleep it off and we would talk in the morning. 

I was exhausted.  I walked way upstairs and knew there was a couch calling my name.  I’d sleep the night away there.  Without turning the light on I walked in the room.  Something was on the ground and felt funny under my feet.  It wasn’t soft or giving like carpet usually is.  I turned on the light to find my bonus room’s floor covered with bullets.  No spaces.  Covered.  I could see no gun, but honestly, didn’t search.  I was too taken aback by what I saw.  I had to sit down.  There I was, 4 months pregnant, bullets surrounding me and a drunken man below me who was just let go for sexual harassment. 

I had no idea what the next day would bring, I only knew it would be long and scary.  It was too much for me; too much for one person to handle.  I had to get back up as soon as it was a reasonable hour.  And that would be soon.  For now, I needed to shut my eyes, my body was tired, I needed rest.