My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, 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. Emma and her husband, Tyler Buchheim now live in Frisco, Texas. 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.
The Apology that Never Came and Other Broken Promises
How do you go from being a man who tells his wife, “I love you.” a dozen times a day to “OmiGod, you are a child abuser! I’ve been married to you for almost 27 years, but I just figured it out and I want a divorce!”
And when I say Phill told me he loved me a dozen times a day, I mean literally. Well, ok, except when he was on the road and then he might only tell me two or three or four times in a phone call. Phill frequently reminded me how happy he was being married to me, how proud he was of our marriage, how we still laughed and had fun, and how great it would be when he was retired and we had more time to spend together. I looked forward to us having more time together as a couple someday when Emma would be grown and living her own life. After a night out with her husband, my neighbor Cora, who was also a busy mom of two boys, joked one day and said something like, “Now I know why I married Randall! We used to have fun!”
Besides being Emma’s mom, I also homeschooled for 5 years, and since Emma didn’t seem to make or keep or maybe just didn’t want friends, it seemed like I was her best friend. Add to that Emma’s “illness” of frequent vomiting, and my life was all Emma all the time. It was exhausting, tedious, repetitive, sometimes boring, but also fun, happy, and loving. I just knew once we got Emma to college, she would come into her own and be ready to take on the world. I thought Phill and I could do a good job and raise a decent human being. Maybe she would be that pediatrician she spoke of being for several years, or maybe she’d go into politics, or to nursing school, or be the next Ann Coulter (Emma was a huge fan and was so interested conservative in politics. Since she liked to write, I once suggested maybe she would be a political commentator one day.) Emma claimed to be the girl “with Google in my brain” and I knew we’d given her a good beginning education, and I thought we’d set a good example and instilled good values in our girl.
As I’ve written earlier, when Phill had me thrown out of our Hoschton, Ga. home, I was a total wreck both physically and emotionally. After almost 27 years of marriage, I was ripped away from the two people I loved most.
My sister wanted me to come up to Connecticut to stay with her for the summer, and although I wasn’t sure I wanted to go for that long, I did, and we left about the first week in June and came back, I think the first week of August.
During this time, I was frequently in touch with my attorney who kept me abreast with what was going on. Phill had filed for divorce, refused to seek counseling, etc.
My attorney was doing some investigating into Emma’s story after I had told him that I didn’t believe Emma was sexually molested by the priest. He wanted to talk to “Lacey’s” parents to see if the stories Emma had told about “Lacey” were true. Had she been raped? Had she attempted suicide? Could “Lacey’s” events and her relaying them to Emma be the catalyst for Emma’s repressed memories of her own molestation by the priest? Was any of this true?
I proved to be a better investigator that the attorney’s own investigator and went on line to find out information about “Lacey’s” parents such as names, addresses, phone numbers, work phone numbers, etc. I turned all this information over to my attorney, and he was still reluctant to have someone call “Lacey’s” parents. It would be awkward to have a conversation with Lacey’s parents if poor “Lacey” had been the victim of rape and had attempted suicide like Emma claimed.
Well, as we all know. It was all lies. Emma had made it all up. Lacey wasn’t raped! Lacey had never attempted suicide. Lacey’s mother, who actually did battle breast cancer, had sailed through her treatment with flying colors and never even spent a night in the hospital, much less was she lying in a hospital, knocking on death’s door like Emma claimed.
So surely, Phill would have to see that Emma was not molested either! Right? Well, we are talking about Phill here, so no………………….. sadly, not right at all. Sherry Buchheim, Emma’s momster-in-law, once e-mailed me that Emma had told them that I didn’t believe she was molested. Well, Sherry, you got that right! So, why did Phill continue to go along with Emma’s lies?
I have to admit that when we found out the truth about “Lacey” I sort of expected an apology from my husband, or, since he and Emma went up to his mother’s home in Brick, N.J. while I was in Ct., I was half expecting him to drive a couple of hours to my sister’s home and show up and apologize. How do you apologize for putting your wife through absolute hell? How to you apologize for all the sleepless night and the years of tears? Well, if you are Phillip Thomas Roey, you don’t. You pretend that you are right, and you just keep going. My dear, sweet, loving, wonderful husband could not face the truth. Like a lot of men, Phill was never any good at admitting when he was wrong, so why start now?
To be continued…………………….
Losing Emma 