Bradley D. Moody, Attorney at Law, Lee Sexton and Associates

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(Sorry Folks, had to move this post to insert some other things I was working on when I was so rudely interrupted by Mr. Moody’s Letter.)

If you are new to this blog, you may want to read the posts “In a Nutshell” or go to July 2012 and read “Sending out a Letter.” My daughter Emma Katherine Roey lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story. Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

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Phillip Thomas Roey, before he got all cool, made new friend and stuff and dumped his old wife.

A Letter From My Husband (AKA Moving the girlfriend/new wife in.)

Well, I guess it’s not really a letter from Phill, but a letter from his attorney. Well……..I guess it’s not really his attorney. Let me point out some interesting things about the letter.
First off, the return address:

Bradley D. Moody
Attorney at Law
320 Corporate Center Court
Stockbridge, Georgia 302981

Hmmm, no mention of the law firm Mr. Bradley Moody works for. And why the extra number in the zip code?

Actually, Mr.Bradley Moody, Attorney at Law (I’m surprised he didn’t use “Esq.” after his name.) works for Lee Sexton and Associates and the address should read:
Bradley D. Moody
Lee Sexton and Associates P.C.
320 Corporate Center Court
Stockbridge, Georgia 30281

Since Lee Sexton and Associates P.C. is a criminal defense attorney, I wonder why Mr. Bradley Moody is taking on a lowly family court action? Doesn’t that seem a little beneath them?

Now, let’s go on to the letter, shall we? If you look at the address at the top, Mr. Moody’s legal secretary did not capitalize my street name (3 places) nor did she capitalize the town I live in.

With all the typos, I would question the abilities of the legal secretary at Lee Sexton and Associates, but hey, I make a few typos myself. (By the way Brad, if you are looking to hire a new secretary, I might be interested in a career change. Give me a call.)

Before I get to the heart of the letter, look at the signature. Well, the signature isn’t that impressive, but look below the signature:
Georgia Bar No. 655693

Ok, I’m a simple person and not very sophisticated, basically a WalMart kind of girl. I have a little bit of smarts (and a great sense of humor), but am no genius, and I certainly don’t have the years of schooling that an attorney would have. I don’t even really understand what a hashtag is for.  I also didn’t have a lot of experience with attorneys until my husband falsely accused me of child abuse and filed for divorce. I had no choice but to hire an attorney.  Up until then, other than for things like signing papers when buying a house and a few John Grisham and Lisa Scottoline novels, that’s pretty much the extent of my experience with attorneys. (I am currently listeing to John Grisham’s, The Litagators, and Brad, you remind me of some of the characters.)

I’ve shown this letter around, and no one that I know has ever seen an attorney sign a letter with their Georgia Bar number. I’m not sure why Mister Moody threw that in there. Just to look impressive I guess, or maybe to look authoritative? “ME! Important Attorney. YOU! Little housewife.”

Ok, now, let’s get to the meat of the letter. Mr. Roey has retained “our firm.” Hmmm. Again, if Phill had retained the firm of Lee Sexton and Associates, wouldn’t Mr. Moody have used their letterhead? And wouldn’t the return address on the envelope have read “Lee Sexton and Associates” in the very first line?

Onward.  It says Mr. Roey has retained the firm of Lee Sexton and Associates to declare the property awarded to me in the divorce ABANDONED.  It also says I could also be liable for storage fees to Mr. Roey.

Don’t you love lawyers? Gotta get that threat in there. I could be “liable for storage fees to Mr. Roey.”

Let me just mention something about the divorce. I know many of my readers have been through it, so I’m sure some of you know a lot more about it than I do.
There’s a radio commercial for men going through divorce that tells guys not to leave their home because that gives the wife the advantage. BUT, if you throw your wife out of the house, YOU have the advantage.

My daughter had made up lies about a friend being raped and attempting suicide and then claimed to have been molested by a priest. Then, when she was about to be caught in her lies, my daughter accused ME of abusing her. My husband turned into an idiot and threw me out of my home. Devastated is an understatement. The STUFF in my home was not on my priority list.

I did try to go over once and take inventory of stuff, but Phill was so offended that I brought a friend that he had to have Judy Hall, our neighbor come over as a witness for him. Phill, honey, I never accused you of anything. You are the one that accused me of abuse and went along with Emma’s lies. My attorney told me not to even drive by the house without a witness because Emma would make up something like accusing me of threatening her. (Like she made up the story of a car that looked like mine stopping in her driveway on the night she knew I would be going to Bible Study down the street.)

When my friend and I went to the house, I picked up a few things that were mine and put them in the car. When I picked up a picture that Emma had made( and I had framed) because I wanted it, Phill had a fit, told me to leave, and threatened to call the police.

Emma had made the picture in a printing class some years earlier and brought them to me one day because she was going to throw them away. She also gave me the press she had carved to make the picture. (I put it on the bookcase on the sunporch, Phill, sweetie, if you happen to see it.) She was cleaning up her room, and I had loved the prints and wanted to keep them and the press. I laid 3 of the prints together and figured out what size mat I would need, and when we went to IKEA, I got the frame with the mat to fit and came home and framed the three prints, overlapping, so they look like one picture.
Phill had all Emma’s photos and all Emma’s artwork, and he was going to deny me one piece that I had saved.  There were also other copies of the prints, so he could have framed his own.  He also had the press, so could have easily had Emma make more copies.

Anyway, as the divorce went on, and when we came to property, I started making a list of things I wanted from the house. In my emotional state, I couldn’t even think of things I wanted from the house. Of course, this was during the stress of the divorce and I was breaking out in hives every day, on medication for anxiety, etc……

I made a list of stuff and gave it to my attorney, and he sent it to Phill’s attorney. Phill’s attorney sent it back with items crossed out, and I made another list and gave it to my attorney who sent it to Phill’s attorney, and the list came back with more items crossed out. I thought the whole thing was ridiculous, and, as I said, I did not care about the stuff. I didn’t even look at the newest list of crossed out items, but instead told my attorney that Phill could have the stuff. I just didn’t care. After all, during the marriage the things we bought were “ours” but most men who are married to a lowly housewife/mother and who are going through a divorce change their view to “my money” bought those things.

The next paragraph tells me that I have 15 days from receipt of the letter to arrange to have a third party pick up my property. Phill had to get an attorney to do this? Well, yes he did. Phill can’t face me. He knows all about Emma’s lies. He knows she’s made up other things and gone around telling people I poisoned her with DDT, but if he doesn’t see me, he doesn’t have to deal with me. If he had to deal with me, he would have to deal with the truth, and if Phill dealt with the truth, he would then have to deal with all the friends and family who have supported him and Emma and turn around and tell them he made a terrible mistake accusing his wife of child abuse. Phill is not strong enough to do this. He wants people to like him and to admit he made such a colossal mistake would be more humiliating than he could bear.   Phill’s mantra is: “I don’t want you to hate me.” He couldn’t bring himself to email or text me, so he had to have an attorney write for him. He can’t handle me coming to my (former) home, so it has to be a third party that picks up the things. I have to admit, Phill is a coward.  The man who I thought would do whatever he had to to take care of his family failed miserably.  All Emma had to do was threaten to run away, and he had no interest in getting to the truth. He threw out his wife for his daughter and let her take over as woman of the house.

Being a simple girl, and not understanding “lawyerese” (I do understand Pig Latin though.), I had to look up the part about “filing a condemnation action.” Here is what I found:

condemnation action
n. a lawsuit brought by a public agency to acquire private property for public purposes (schools, highways, parks, hospitals, redevelopment, civic buildings, for example), and a determination of the value to be paid. While the government has the right to acquire the private property (eminent domain), the owner is entitled under the Constitution to receive just compensation to be determined by a court.
So, I guess Phill gets my things by eminent domain?  Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, the next time you pick on someone, you might want to dumb down your letters for us little ol’ housewives who don’t understand the big words.

Also in this paragraph, there he goes again: Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, has to threaten the little ol’ housewife again “to seek damages for storage for four years AND attorney’s fees.” Oh, my. Do you like being a bully, Mr. Moody? I bet the John Marshall School of Law would be quite proud of you. You flex your muscles and puff out your chest to intimidate a little ol’ housewife. That takes some real intestinal fortitude right there.

Now, let’s look at Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law’s closing. “Please reach out to my office…”  (For those of us old enough to remember, I will hum “Reach Out and Touch Someone” in the background.  You can use your imagination to hear it.) The interesting thing is that Mr. Moody never mentions the name of his office, and only types the address on an envelope without said name, AND Mr. Moody encloses no telephone number. I guess Mr. Bradley Moody is afraid to talk to me too, so he wants me to write to him.  Or maybe we are to communicate telepathically?   Nor did Mr. Bradley Moody enclose an email address.   Phill must have told him some pretty scary stuff.  Or maybe, just maybe, Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, doesn’t want me calling the office of Lee Sexton and Associates.  Now, now,  Mr. Bradley Moody, I do know how to use Google.

Don’t you like how Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, threatens me not once, but twice in the letter and then closes with, “With kindest regards……??????” I get the warm fuzzies just thinking about it.

So, Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law’s firm of Lee Sexton and Associates is now representing my husband? Hmmmm, or are they? Actually, Mr. Lee Sexton has an impressive Bio as he’s appeared on shows like 48 Hours, Dateline, Court TV and Oprah. Brad, I hope you learn a lot at your job there, and have some great experiences, but it doesn’t look like Lee Sexton and Associates is representing my husband.

I also discovered that Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, is the son-in-law of Phill’s friend, Matt Klos, of Peachtree City, Ga., and married to Jessie Klos Moody, Matt’s daughter and father to Matt Klos’ precious little granddaughter. Matt Klos took over Jeff Meyers’ job as events director at SEFF (Southeast Electric Flight Fetstival http://www.seffweek.com   Matt is also a Designated Airworthiness Representative and an ASI instructor)the big RC event that Phill attends every year, and the last I heard,  is a member of the Fayette Flyers http://www.fayetteflyers.com , along with many other RC buddies of Phill’s. ( Oh, and just a note to all the RC nerds, both the SEFF site and the Fayette Flyers site seem to have a problem. If you go to the site, it gives you a warning NOT to go to the site because these sites might download malicious software to your computer. You guys might want to fix that.  Your Welcome.)

Matt Klos has another daughter, Jenny Klos, a Pharmacy student at Mercer University, who worked at SEFF along with Emma, and if you remember, Emma complained bitterly about the other girls NOT working. I heard a lot about this after the events, I guess because since I hadn’t been there, Emma could embellish her stories to her heart’s content  and I would never know what was true and what wasn’t. The girls did nothing but drive golf carts around and dress like sluts. (Well, Emma, it was usually pretty hot down there, and not everyone has your strict moral dress code of 3 inches below the collar bone and 3 inches above the knee. In fact, from some photos I’ve seen of you, you don’t even live up to that code that you decided was for good Christian girls like yourself.

So, the big question is, did Phill hire Lee Sexton and Associates or did he hire Bradley Moody, attorney at law?  Not that Bradley Cooper, attorney at law can’t moonlight a little bit on the side.

And since we’re talking about my belongings, which is certainly not ½ of the household, but only those things which Phill allowed me to have, I will say that Phill and I have been through this before. Phill has our truck (if he still has it), so I don’t really have a vehicle to go pick up my things. Also, Phill threw his wife out of her home, so I feel like he is the one who needs to bring me my things. Phill knows the only things I want are some personal items. I live in a small house that is already furnished, and I don’t have room for my things. Phill knows what he owes me.

I told Phill a couple of times he could do what he wanted with my things, and at one point he threatened to haul everything down to the curb. I asked him not to do that, but to send the things to Goodwill or another charity instead. I have the e-mails telling Phill he could get rid of my things, so if Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law for Lee Sexton and Associates, wants to take me to court over storage (what storage? Phill put all my things in the garage.) and attorney’s fees. I have the proof that I relinquished Phill of any responsibility for my things quite some time ago, not to mention that the attorney’s fee’s I will owe Mr. Bradley Moody are probably the $50 or so that Phill paid him under the table and the $6.46 for the certified letter. I think I can swing that.

Now, Phill is ready to move on and I’m sure ready to move his girlfriend or wife-to-be, Kim Chassion into my home.  I hope you enjoy both my home and my husband, Kim.  A wife is so easily replaced, as is a soul mate. (Phill’s words, not mine. I was never comfortable with that phrase, just like Phill was the one who talked about renewing our vows after he listened to two audio books of Nicholas Sparks’ novels The Notebook and The Wedding.  I meant my vows the first time and always thought those vow renewal ceremonies were kind of silly.  But as I said, I’m not very sophisticated.) I wonder what Kim Chassion thinks of a man who lets his daughter go around telling people her mother poisoned her with DDT?

Or, I suppose Phill could be wanting to put the house on the market so he can move in with Kim Chassion.   Not too many women want to move into the house their hubby shared with his first wife.  Either way, no matter

I guess that’s it for now. Thanks for reading if you’ve made it this far, and to Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, if I ever need a criminal defense attorney, I will certainly give the office of Lee Sexton and Associates a call.  You might want to give your contact information to our lovely daughter, Emma.  Oh, and I looked up the office, and it looks like a pretty little house down there in Stockbridge, Ga.  And for all the free publicity, you’re welcome.

Until next time, with kindest regards………….

Trifecta

If you are new to this blog, you may want to read the posts “In a Nutshell” or go to July 2012 and read “Sending out a Letter.” My daughter Emma Katherine Roey lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story. Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

Trifecta

So Emma, you can see how you were able to play a part in the destruction of your parents’ marriage.  By no means do I put most of the blame on you, but Daddy gets a lot of the credit.  I was the only one who was willing to fight for my family, and it was two against one, so I didn’t really have a chance.   You were a kid, and like I said to you many times, you will say or do anything to get what you want.  Of course, even when I said that, I had no idea how far you would go.  As your mom, I never wanted to see the worst in you, and it wasn’t until later that I learned some of the very ugly truths about my own daughter.

But no, I can’t blame you Emma.  You were a 17 year old kid, backed into a corner, about to be caught in some vicious lies, and you piled more bad decisions on top of the ones you’d already made.  You tried to ruin a man by falsely accusing him of sexually molesting you.  When that was falling apart, you turned on your mother.   You were a kid who did what you had to do to get out of it, so no, I don’t blame you as much as I blame Daddy.  After all, he was one of the grownups in this situation.

The trifecta that destroyed our family was made up of:

  1. Your problems.
  2. Daddy’s midlife crisis.
  3. Daddy’s upbringing and his need to just “get along” with everyone rather than face the problem.

I have to admit, Emma, that I thought when Daddy found out about all the lies you told, he would want to investigate further and knowing what a liar you were, and what horrible things you’d done, he would not continue to allow his wife to be victimized by a lying teenager.  I thought surely, Daddy would be a man and do what he had to do to right the situation and save our family.

I can’t tell you how disappointed I was in Daddy.  He married me for better or worse, only he only couldn’t handle the “worse” part.  When things got difficult, Daddy checked out.  He just couldn’t stomach it, if you’ll pardon the pun.  I don’t have to tell you that I loved your dad.  You knew that, and he knew that.  I just made a mistake in judgement.  I always thought Daddy “had my back” and would be there for me.  I always thought Daddy would do whatever necessary to take care of his family.  I was wrong.

Early in our marriage, I knew a woman at work who had to make a very painful decision about her husband with Parkinson’s Disease.  He suffered with some mental illness that goes along with Parkinson’s and it was becoming very clear that this lady could not manage the care for her husband alone.  She was struggling with a very painful decision.  If she divorced her husband, he would have more resources available for his care, making less of a hardship on her, but he was her husband and she didn’t want to divorce him.  It was such a sad situation, and I remember telling Daddy about it, and his response really surprised me.  Daddy said he would want a divorce because he “didn’t sign on for that.” I that was the first time that I thought Daddy was not committed to marriage like I thought he was.  For him, it wasn’t a difficult decision.  He thought she should just divorce him.  What’s difficult about that?  Daddy’s reaction bothered me for a long time, and coming from a divorced family, the odds were higher that Daddy and I would end up divorced anyway, but I thought Daddy was different from the rest of his family, and not a quitter.

Daddy is one of the smartest people I know, but he never had a lot of common sense.  He knows what a liar you are, but he can’t face it, so he just goes along with it.  He is a lot like his daddy in that respect————whatever keeps the peace.

Another thing I know about your dad, after being married to him for almost 27 years, is that he can justify anything to himself.  He’s not a stupid man, and there’s no way he doesn’t know what a liar you are.  How could he not?  He will justify your behavior to himself and he will justify his own behavior.  He will just say to himself that what he does is ok, because……………………… (fill in the blank)  You can make up any number of reasons.  You and I argued a lot, so Daddy can justify what he did and say, “Well, Emma and her mom argued a lot, so it’s ok that I destroyed my marriage.”  Daddy’s mother and I didn’t get along, and he put up with a lot in almost 27 years of marriage, so what he does is ok.   Daddy will make excuses for you, and for himself, and tell himself  that it’s ok that you lied about being molested.  You had your reasons.  Daddy knows the real victims in our situation are the priest and your mother, but it’s easier to put those things aside and pretend that Emma is the victim.  That way, Daddy doesn’t have to deal with the hard stuff.

So, Emma, as you got older, your mom became the competition.  You had to beat me.  You wanted to be independent and prove you didn’t need a micro-managing, control freak of a mother.  I was too much of a hindrance to you.  Congratulations, Emma.  I concede that you won.  Of course, we were playing two different games, and you don’t play by the rules, so you definitely had the advantage, but you did win.  I was trying to raise you to be a decent human being and didn’t know that I was in a competition against you.  I didn’t know your dad would fall apart when things got too difficult.  I knew you had your stubborn streaks, and you could be very difficult.  I tried to tell myself when you would be so difficult that as much as I hated arguing with you, it would serve you well and you would be able to stand up for yourself and stand up against peer pressure because you were so stubborn.

I knew you lied a lot, but I thought you just lied like most kids do about normal things.  I had no idea how far you had already taken things.   I wanted to see the best in you, and thought this was just a part of growing up, the lying, and you would outgrow it.    I remember reading James Dobson’s The Strong Willed Child, and hoping it would help me understand you and how to deal with you, but I’m not sure even James Dobson himself would have been a match for you.

The other day, Emma, I spent several hours over at your grandmother’s, whom as you know has dementia.  The last few weeks, she has been great, very sharp and we have had some good conversations.  Well, I don’t know what happened, but Grandma was very confused and easily upset the other night and I knew I could not win an argument with her.  Fortunately, because of my work, I’ve dealt with some people like this and I am much better equipped to handle this kind of behavior than I used to be.  Grandma wanted to argue and when I tried to reason with her and explain things to her, she got mad.  I knew it was time to shut up, so I just said, “Ok” to whatever she said and wasn’t going to argue, and then she got mad because I said ok and I WOULDN’T argue.  Talk about damned if you do and damned if you don’t!   If I were someone else, it would be funny, but when you’re in the middle of it, it’s not so fun.  I almost said to her, “This is like arguing with a teenager!” but I didn’t.  There were several times though, that I thought, “This is like talking to Emma!”

Love you always,

Mom

For Emma: Your Grandma Harriett

If you are new to this blog, you may want to read the posts “In a Nutshell” or go to July 2012 and read “Sending out a Letter.” My daughter Emma Katherine Roey lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story. Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

Grandma Harriett
Emma, this will be one of the more difficult sections for me to write because I have to take a lot of the blame here, but I think it’s fairly equally divided between the three of us: me, your Grandma Harriett, and Daddy.  Like some of my other posts, I’d have preferred to keep this between you and me, but since we can’t communicate, I will share it here.  Maybe you can learn from my mistakes.

Your Grandma grew up down south, in N.C.,  and at some point the family moved to New Jersey.  When Grandma was about 18 she married your Grandpa Danny who was about 18 or so years older.  The marriage lasted long enough to produce two babies, and that was it.

Grandma waitressed and Grandpa worked in a bar up until he bought the diner.  Grandma went to work for Grandpa, and eventually took over running the restaurant. Both your grandparents were hard workers, and Daddy grew up working in the diner for them.  By the time I came into the family, Grandma really did everything, and Grandpa just sort of showed up and waited on customers for part of the day.  It was more like a social thing for him.  He worked right up until he died.  Grandma Harriett ordered him around both at work and away from work.    I got the feeling, when he was younger, he wasn’t quite the pushover, but when he was older, he was very agreeable and just went with the flow.

I’ve told you about how your daddy was raised.  He was the older brother, and the peacemaker.  Daddy’s little brother, your Uncle A, would hold his breath until he passed out if he didn’t get what he wanted, so Daddy was always expected to give in to his little brother.  After the divorce, your grandmother had some difficult relationships, and your dad claimed there was a lot of fighting going on at home between your grandmother and various boyfriends and then with her 2nd husband, John.  Daddy always claimed that any kind of argument made his stomach hurt.  He did not like to argue, and just wanted peace.  Some years later, he enjoyed arguing with your uncle in Ct. about politics, and the arguing between your dad and your uncle seemed more like fighting to me, and it made me uncomfortable.  I asked Daddy to stop, but he loved egging on your uncle.  Daddy is conservative or libertarian and your uncle is a democrat.  They were never going to agree on anything, and you know your dad was always pretty passive, and wouldn’t speak up to his mother or borther, but he could go at it with your uncle.   I just wanted to enjoy my family, but this was the one thing your dad wasn’t his easy going self about.

Your grandmother was married to her 2nd husband, John, for about 7 years.  From what your dad said, it was not a happy marriage from the beginning.  John bought your grandmother a big diamond engagement ring that she had to take over the payments for.   When your dad and I were up visiting one time, your grandmother showed me the ring and told me it would be mine one day.  Although it was a sweet thought,  since I’d never had an engagement ring, I wasn’t crazy about THAT ring because it seemed like bad luck to take a ring from a broken marriage.  I didn’t want to tell her that I didn’t really want the ring.

If I remember right, John drove a bread truck.  I don’t remember all the problems they had, but your dad said that marriage was doomed from the start.  They were divorced after a while, and later on, John came to work for your grandparents at the diner, so in addition to traveling with her ex-husband and her live-in-boyfriend, Kenny, your grandmother worked with her 2nd ex-husband as well as working with her 1st ex-husband.  It sounded odd, but when we were up there visiting, everyone seemed to get along ok.   And then there was Pat, who carried a torch for your grandma, who came by the restaurant every afternoon to help Grandma close.

In addition to a tumultuous household, Daddy described his childhood as one with a mother who always had to have a boyfriend, if she didn’t have a husband.  These men could be married or not, it didn’t matter, but Grandma always had some kind of boyfriend.   I just figured that grandma was raised in that southern tradition of “You are nothing without a man” and always had to have someone, just like her own mother, Stella, who was married several times.

The first time I met your Grandma Harriett and your Grandpa Dan, things were great.  Harriett lived with her boyfriend, Kenny, and Dan wasn’t too far away in his own house.   We got along fine and had a lot of fun.  Harriett was an animal lover as well, so we had that in common.  The only bad side of this was that your grandma would call me up and say, “I know you love animals, so I have to tell you……………..”  and then proceed to tell me about some horrible animal abuse situation that she heard about up there in New Jersey, and no matter how many times I stopped her and said, “Don’t tell me.  I don’t want to know.” she would do it anyway.  Having worked with a dog and cat rescue for many years, Emma, I think you know how many horrible stories we hear and see constantly.  When someone brings up something they heard in the news, I ask them not to tell me, and most people oblige.  If I hear a story starting on the news about some horrible animal abuse story, I turn off the radio.  I know what goes on, and I know there is nothing I can do about it.  I really don’t need to hear it.

As for your grandpa, Danny was very easy going.  He let Harriett call the shots and just went along with whatever was going on.  He was likeable and pleasant to be with.  Danny was also very generous and sweet.  One time when we were visiting he showed me some camera ads.  He knew I was into photography and offered to buy me a good camera.  I thought it was such a sweet gesture, but I couldn’t accept something like that.  At that time, good cameras were very expensive.

On the funnier side, once after Daddy and I were married, he was on the phone with your grandmother.  I walked into the kitchen and Daddy yelled into the phone, “Well, F__K you too!” and I was so shocked.  I got on to Daddy for talking that way to his mother, and he said, “Well, she said it first!”  I don’t know if she still talks that way, but your grandma could swear like a sailor.

I think it was the second time I saw your grandparents that I found out how things could be.  Harriett and Danny came down some time shortly before your Uncle A got married in March of 1984.  They were going to spend a few days at A’s and then a few days with us.  Your uncle lived quite a ways from us, so it was a good long drive.  We drove over to pick them up and the next day, we were all going to have dinner.  Your uncle thought we should drive back to his place to go to a Mexican restaurant near his house, and Daddy didn’t want to and suggested meeting somewhere in-between.  That was the first time I saw Grandma Harriett get mad, and how mean she could be.  I stupidly spoke up and said I agreed with Daddy, and Daddy and I got the cold shoulder for the rest of her trip.

Uncle A won out by refusing to go anywhere else, and Daddy and I gave in, and we drove all the way back over there to eat where he wanted to go.

During that time we had a friend named Steve, who was temporarily homeless because he’d quit his job, living with us, and your dad, Harriett, Danny, and I were going to go up to Amicalola, so of course we invited Steve to go with us.

The whole trip, Grandma Harriett only talked to Daddy and me if she absolutely had to.  She flirted and fawned over Steve the whole trip, and pretty much ignored us.  It was ridiculous to see a 45+ year old woman hanging all over a 20-something year old man, and of course it hurt my feelings that Grandma wouldn’t talk me.  I think your dad was used to this kind of behavior from Grandma, so it didn’t bother him as much.

The cold shoulder went on for months, but eventually it passed, and I think things were back to normal by Christmas. (BTW, Emma, if you and Daddy didn’t throw away all our old photo albums, there is a great picture of your grandpa that I took at Amicalola.  We were at the top, and he was wearing his camera around his neck.)

Usually, when your grandparents came down, all three of them came: Grandma Harriett, Kenny, and Danny.  Considering one was the ex-husband, and one was the boyfriend, they all got along fairly well, with Grandma Harriett always in charge.  Kenny was a retired policeman who liked to work on cars.  He was still married, being catholic he wouldn’t divorce, but had left his wife and moved in with Grandma Harriett.

Kenny was known for having a temper, and I remember your Daddy telling me a story about the two of them having a huge fight and accusing each other of cheating, and one of them going after the other with a shotgun or something, but whenever I saw them, they got along well.

Kenny often went to the diner at the end of the day to help your grandma close up, but for a while he wasn’t allowed in there.  Daddy told me he got very jealous of some of the men who came into the diner to see your grandma and could get very angry.

As far as visiting, your Grandma always favored Uncle A, but I understood that we were 2nd class citizens because we had no grandchildren for many years.  Grandma would make secret visits down to your uncle’s and call us on the weekend, pretending she was at home, so we wouldn’t know she was down here.  She even did it once with us after you were born.  She came down to visit us and called your uncle, pretending to be in New Jersey.  The first time I figured that out that your grandma did this was when she called, pretending to be in New Jersey one Christmas, and after talking to her, we hung up and I remembered something else I wanted to tell her.  I had hung up the phone, but still had it in my hand and immediately called her back, but the phone rang and rang and rang.  Later, when we asked her about it, she claimed that she and Kenny had gone to his sister’s,  but she wouldn’t have even had time to put on her coat by the time I called back.  I knew Grandma was lying, but Daddy wasn’t about to question things, so I let it go.  Of course there were other times when we visited and Grandma let stories slip about being down at your uncle’s.  This didn’t really bother me.  I knew how she was and like I said, we had no grandchildren for her.  I’d seen enough childless friends get cast aside by their parents in favor of spending time with the children who provided grandchildren.  That’s just how people are.

One 4th of July weekend, maybe the first or second year we were married, Grandma Harriett and Kenny came down for a short 4 days or so, and they were supposed to stay with us for a couple of days and then go to your uncle’s for a couple of days.  They got to our house late one evening after a long drive from New Jersey and then had to get up at 4:30 the next morning to go to your uncle’s house because he conveniently did not have a babysitter while they were visiting.  That one did bother me, but I got over it.

Whenever we went to visit, the only time we could do something with your grandma was on a Sunday, and only for part of the day because she still wanted to go in to work to get the diner ready for Monday.  If we went out on an evening during the week, to a movie or out to dinner, Grandma would always fall asleep in the car or at the theater.

I don’t have to tell you how generous Grandma Harriet was.  She always wanted to take me shopping to buy some new clothes, and one visit, she arranged for a limo to take Daddy and I to a Brodaway show and have dinner in New York at Mama Leoni’s.  It was a wonderful night.  When Daddy and I bought our house in Doraville, Grandma Harriett and Danny gave us some money to help make the downpayment.

After we had you, I thought things would change.  Your grandma was so excited that we were having a baby.  She, Kenny, and Danny came down for 4 days after you were born.  Grandma could never leave the restaurant or close the restaurant, and she told me that it was a short visit because she was going to come down 4 or 5 times , but those 4 or 5 visits turned in to ONE visit 9 months later on Labor Day weekend, when your grandma, Kenny, and Danny flew down after they closed the restaurant on Saturday and then had to fly back Monday afternoon, so those 4-5 visits turned into one visit for about 72 hours.  That Sunday, your grandma called Uncle A, and we all had to be quiet so she could pretend to be in New Jersey.

That year, we couldn’t go up to visit because your dad had used up all his vacation to stay home with us when you were born.

When we did go up to visit after you were born, Grandma still would never close the restaurant and take a day off, so we would drive 17 hours up and spend a week, to have part of a Sunday to spend with your Grandma, although I heard lots of stories about how when Uncle A and his family went up, she would close the restaurant and rent them a house on the beach, paying for everything.  Grandma frequently complained about your Aunt K and how she could not “do enough or spend enough” to make Aunt K happy.  She complained about how your aunt had her girls in those little girl beauty pageants and was always asking Grandma to buy the dresses she needed for competitions.  She complained that Aunt K abused prescription drugs.  (I never saw anything to indicate this, and from what I saw of your aunt, she was a very good mother.  To be fair to your aunt K, your grandma complained about your uncle’s first wife until he married his 2nd wife, and then she only had good things to say about the first wife.  I have no doubt that Grandma had plenty to say about me to your aunt.  I always suspected that grandma kind of liked the tension between your dad and his brother. )

Daddy and I never cared about renting a house at the beach or anything else, we just wanted your grandma to spend some time with us, and especially with you.  We always went up and stayed in her tiny pre-fab home, and it was fine with us.  Later on, I did worry about taking you up there because your grandma fed dozens of feral cats, and the backyard was like a big litterbox.  I really didn’t want you playing out in that yard.  The inside wasn’t as bad.  Grandma had four inside cats in her and someone was always throwing up somewhere or missing the litterbox.  You know I am an animal person, but it did bother me a little bit in the house as well, once we had you, but I tried to ignore it and never said anything about it.

Another time, early in our marriage, your Grandma was going to come down and spend Christmas with us one year, but at the last minute decided to go to a Slot Machine Tournament in Las Vegas instead.  I was pretty hurt by that as we’d been planning on it, and she didn’t let us know until almost the last minute.   Grandma sent us some of the promotional gifts she received for attending the tournament.  You know the lamp that was on the old sewing machine in the living room?  That came from there along with the candle holders that were in the china cabinet.

In April of 1995, Kenny Died.  He was out in the yard working on one of his cars and had a heart attack.  I can’t remember who found him, maybe the neighbors, but your grandma was at the restaurant working when it happened.  Of course it was horrible.  There was lots of drama when the EMTs were called and Kenny’s two grown daughters came over.  Later on, your grandma noticed that a big gold necklace with a boat propeller charm she had given Kenny was missing.  Of course no one knew what happened, but it was suspected that Kenny’s daughters took it.  There were some things inside that turned up missing as well, such as a Kenny’s checkbook.  I can’t remember what happened, but I think your grandmother said the girls emptied our Kenny’s checking account.

Your grandma was understandably very upset.  Daddy and I were about to move to Hoschton, and we thought it was a good idea for me to go up with you to see Grandma.  We stayed with her, and sat with her through all the tears and while arrangements were made.  I think your grandma appreciated me being there with her, and I know you were a wonderful distraction for her.  You were such a sweet baby, just having you around made grandma smile.

Kenny was cremated and the funeral was rather awkward.   Daddy and your uncle A came up.  On one side of the funeral home was Kenny’s wife, daughters, and other family and friends, and on the other side was your grandma, your uncle, Daddy and me, and a few friends.

Kenny was cremated, and since he loved the water, your grandma rented a boat for everyone to go out on to release the ashes.  That was a little awkward too.  The ashes were divided between Kenny’s wife and your grandma.  Like the funeral, the boat was divided with Kenny’s wife and family on one side and Kenny’s mistress and family on the other side.  Before we left, the captain of the boat stopped your dad and I and gave your Dad $200.  He said that Grandma had overpaid and over tipped and that she gave them too much money already and he wanted to return this extra tip she had given him.  Your daddy quietly put the money in your Grandma’s purse and didn’t say anything about it to her about it.  Grandma’s purse was always stuffed with cash, so she wouldn’t have even noticed an extra $200 in it.

You were 2 ½ years old when we stopped toing up to visit your grandma.  We drove a long 17 hours up (since Daddy always wanted to drive straight through and not stop to spend the night), and it was pretty miserable for you.  It was the trip we often talked about how you had learned the song, “You Are My Sunshine” and we were singing it in the car, and you pounded your little fists on the car seat and sang very loudly, “You are NOT my sunshine…..You make me NOT happy….”’   You also pounded your fists and chanted, “Get out, get out, get out, get out, get out…..”

We had a pretty good visit, and took you to Storybook Land ( http://storybookland.com ) on Sunday afternoon, which was so much fun.  That was the only day we could really do something because, as usual, Grandma wouldn’t take a day off. You loved it.  You should be able to find the photos I took of that trip in the boxes of photos in that breakfast nook drawer where I always kept them.

I don’t even remember what your grandma got mad over, but we got the cold shoulder once again at the end of the trip, and by the time we left, I was so ready to go home.  I think it was the day before we left when we went out to eat. (Grandma never cooked, but working like she did, who could blame her?)  Grandma Harriett had a fairly new waitress working for them, named Maureen, and all through dinner Grandma talked about Maureen and how she loved Maureen and people thought Maureen was her daughter, and how she wanted to take Maureen here, and wanted to go there with Maureen, and Maureen said this, blah, blah, blah………..  I knew this was directed at me because usually when we visited, and we’d go to the restaurant, Grandma loved to tell people I was her daughter-in-law like she almost forgot that was her son that was with me.  I always enjoyed how she seemed to be so proud of me.

Of course, I was hurt after this trip, and Grandma wasn’t speaking to us again.  I was so tired of having a fair-weather- friend.  When your grandma was nice, she was like one of my best friends and she would call to talk to me, barely saying hello to Daddy.  I would also call her, like one of my girlfriends, over any little thing I wanted to tell her.  But when Grandma was mad, you (or we) got the cold shoulder for months.

I’m trying to remember what year that was, I think 1996, and Daddy and I had been married for 12 years, and during those 12 years the only time your grandma took a day off when we visited was when Kenny died.   Her visits down south to see us were usually about 2 days.

After that visit, I told Daddy I wasn’t going up there anymore.  I wasn’t fair to drag you all the way up there for what usually ended up being pretty much one day of time spent with your grandma.  I was also tired of the love –hate way that grandma treated us.  I told Daddy that your grandma was welcome at our home anytime, but I wasn’t going back up there.  Daddy didn’t argue and never said a word about it.  He never spoke with his mother and asked her to take time off when we visited like she did for your Uncle and his family.  Eventually, I figured Daddy would want to go back up, but he never said anything about it.  He couldn’t stand up for his family and tell his mother she needed to spend time with us when we came all that way to visit.

The next time we saw your grandma was about a year later when she was traveling back from Disney World with her new boyfriend, Rex.  Your Grandma and Rex stopped and spent the night at your Uncle’s and then drove on to see us and stayed for about 3 hours because they were in a hurry to get home.  (Grandma had promised to go to Disney with us one day, but I knew that would never happen.  She would never close the restaurant to do that for us, but she would for a boyfriend.  Later on, you told me that you remembered Grandma saying she’d go to Disney with us, but you were pretty young, so I thought you must have made it up.)

Rex was a little more demanding of Grandma’s time and she went on a trip to Iceland with him, closing the restaurant for that trip.  Sadly, the relationship didn’t last, but they were together for a year or so.

A  year or so later, we were going to Tybee, and out of the blue, I got some mail from your grandmother.  There wasn’t anything personal in it, just some Xeroxed copies of silly sayings, quotes, cartoons,  etc.  I thought this was ridiculous, since Grandma didn’t even talk to us, but I sent your Grandma a letter, inviting her to go with us to Tybee.  I told her the dates we were going and that we had a condo with plenty of room and all she had to do was fly down and we would pick her up and do the rest.  She never responded to my letter.

I gave up on inviting your grandma to anything else.  She finally retired and sold the diner, and I thought Daddy would want to go up to visit since she was no longer working.  I guess I should have brought it up, but after being hurt so many times by your grandma, I was hesitant and let it slide and Daddy never mentioned going up to New Jersey, although he did see your grandma sometimes when he drove up that way for UPS and she would come meet him for dinner.

I think I told you that with your grandma, I always thought of her as someone who loved drama.  I used to say, “there are no molehills” with your grandma, only mountains.  I’m sure when you and Daddy went to visit after your  “sexually and physically abused” stories, Grandma was all over it.

When Grandma found out your uncle was cheating on his wife, she was fine with it.  She just wanted him to be happy.  She told me about meeting the mistress and how your uncle left his wife and moved in with the mistress and then went back to his wife.  She complained about the mistress (Wife #2) calling her, sobbing and carrying on because your uncle went back to his wife.  Later on, your uncle left his wife a 2nd time and moved in with his mistress.  It was your Grandpa Danny that told Uncle A that he had an obligation to his wife and family, and so your uncle moved back in with his wife again.  At this point, I thought your Aunt K was kind of stupid because she’d been through this once already, so why let a married man move in with you a second time while he was still married?  Grandma again talked about how the poor mistress was so hurt that your uncle had left her to return to his wife a 2nd time.

You know the rest of this story, how your Aunt L (first wife)  gave up and threw your uncle out, but by then the mistress had had a baby by someone else, and then married the man, later left him, and  eventually, your uncle and your Aunt K got back together.  They have been married a long time now, so maybe that was meant to be.

Anyway, Emma, what I wanted to say was to be very careful of how you treat your mother-in-law and your sister-in-law.  I heard some lies you were telling about Sherry Buchheim and about Caitlin Buchheim, and you know that it is wrong.  From what Sherry told me, you spent very little time with Caitlin, so why the need to lie about your her?  I think you can’t help lying, but that is for another post, and I will get to that later.  You are what you are.

In my case, there is enough blame to go around.  I should not have cut off your grandmother like I did.   You know that I come from my own dysfunctional family, so I never really learned how to handle difficult people.  I guess I was a lot like your dad in that I wanted your grandma to like me, and I didn’t know how to deal with someone who loved me one minute and wasn’t speaking to me the next.  I was a young wife and mother and had my own insecurities, and it was very hurtful to me the way your grandma acted.  I should have handled things differently.  Your dad should have stuck up for his family, which he just couldn’t do, and your grandma should have treated us a little better.  We all had fault here.  I hope you will learn from my mistakes and from the mistakes you have already made and do a little better with your in-laws.

Love,

Mom