Tag Archives: children who falselly accuse

The Apology that Never Came, Part 2

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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 where Tyler is studying to be a Full Stack Developer at the Flatiron School.  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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Phill, Emma, and our dog, Spike when Emma and I went to watch Phill fly his toy RC airplanes one afternoon.

 

The Apology That Never Came

Part 2

I saw a headline recently to an article, that was something like, “Men Don’t Get Over It, They Just Move On” I’m sure that’s not quite right, but that was the gist of the title, and I thought, “Yep, that’s my husband.”

I think I confused Phill’s work ethic with his character. Phill has one of the strongest work ethics I know. Maybe it’s because his parents divorced when he was just a toddler, and he watched his mother struggle to take care of him and his brother, frequently counting on her mother to babysit while she worked. Maybe it was because when he was older, Phill’s dad bought a diner, and his mother went to work there, and later both Phill and his brother, Andy worked there after school as well.

When Phill worked for UPS, he started out loading the trucks, then driving the big brown trucks, and later driving the tractor trailer trucks. When he told me he had to “pre-trip” the truck everyday, which is checking everything out on the truck before you go anywhere, I always knew Phill would not cut any corners and would do what he was supposed to do each and every day. That was just Phill. He could be very thorough if he needed to be.

When Phill and I met, we were both students working part time in a huge liquor store. I was sent into the big beer cooler to stock on my first day, and Phill, a scruffy looking Grizzly Adams kind of guy, was back there and showed me what to do. Phill was often treated like a manager (although not paid like one) because he’d been there a while and proved to be very responsible. Phill used to joke that it was, “Love in the Beer Cooler” when someone asked how we met, and I often joked that we met, “in a liquor store” letting people think I let Phill pick me up buying booze, just to see their reactions.

Once, when Phill decided to wallpaper our bedroom and bathroom, he researched it, learned how to do everything, and made sure he did it right. I didn’t know how much there was to wallpapering until he showed me. That was Phill. Phill was the same about painting, and did all the time-consuming prep work, and did the job right. Because he was also a procrasintor, sometimes he didn’t finish, but that’s another story.

When I took our little dog to agility classes (just for fun, I wasn’t really interested in competing) Phill looked up all the specifications and made me some jumps, a dog walk, and an A-frame and even painted them to meet the specifications as if I were competing in competitions. That was just Phill.

When I graduated from college, Phill and I talked about I could work to support us if he wanted to go back to school. (He had gone to Georgia Tech, majoring in Electrical Engineering, and flunked out, not because of his grades, but becaues he quit going to class.) Phill would work like a dog if he was getting paid, but when we talked about him going back to school he said he knew he wouldn’t do the “busy work” the he saw me struggle through. He could do it if it interested him and it pertained to what he wanted to do, but he didn’t like wasting time on classes or assignments he thought were unnecessary, and he knew he just wouldn’t do it, so there was no point in going back to school.

I had a hard time understanding this. I’d seen my husband work so hard at some minimum wage paying job if he were getting paid, but he couldn’t think ahead enough to understand if he got through some of the BS that school entails, it would be worth it in the long run. So, that was why Phill stayed a UPS driver.

I can’t remember exactly, but when Phill went to work driving the tractor trailers, he had to train on the weekends, so he drove the brown package cars 5 days a week and then spent two weekends training with the tractor trailers, so that was, I think, about 19 days in a row with no days off, and we aren’t talking 8 hour days, either. But, it was for the job, and he was getting paid, so even though he was worn out after it was over, it was what he wanted, and so he did it. A few years ago, between my two jobs, I worked 17 days in a row and could barely get off the couch on that 18th day, and my jobs aren’t/weren’t near is physical as Phill’s job working for UPS was.

When UPS went on strike in the 90’s, Phill went to do some construction work for one of his coworkers, Kevin O’Gorman. Kevin always had side jobs going on and was known for buying a home, living in it and fixing it up, and then selling it and moving to the next fixer-upper. UPS being on strike was a little frightening, but I knew with Phill’s work ethic, he would do whatever he had to to take care of his family.

Another thing I admired about Phill was that he could do, build, or fix almost anything. Even before computers, he would do the research to accomplish whatever task he was contemplating. I never understood how he was so handy with tools when he grew up with a divorced mom who was rarely home except to sleep, so where did he learn how to be so handy?

These are just some of the examples of Phill’s work ethic. Emma loved to say her dad “just sits on his butt in a truck all day” and I really hope now that she’s been in the working world a little bit, maybe she appreciates her dad’s hard work a little more than that snotty teenager she was being at the time (but honestly, I doubt it.)

I guess because I thought Phill had such a good work ethic, he would be as hard working in the rest of his life. Phill was always easy going, but I never saw that as a flaw, until I realized he could be pretty passive and I joked with him that he was sometimes passive aggressive.  If he really didn’t want to do something, he might not do the best job.  It was ok.  When it comes to flaws, I have plenty of my own, and probably a few more than my easy-going husband.

It wasn’t until our marriage was ending that I realized how passive Phill was. I always thought we were a team. We discussed decisions, usually at my insistence, and Phill would do things like research a mortgage and decide who we were going to go with, but any difficult family decisions were left to me. Phill didn’t want children, I was the one who wanted a baby. (Although he was thrilled when the time came.) I had to be the disciplinarian, decide Emma’s medical issues, choose Emma’s schools, camps, extracurricular activities, decide on homeschooling, public school, etc. If Emma wanted to attend an activity, or go on an expensive trip, it was up to me to say yay or nay. I could talk to Phill about anything, but he always left the decisions up to me. When Emma claimed to be molested, I was the one that thought she needed to talk to someone other than me, so I was the one who had to interview therapists. I always did my best in making these choices, but Phill left it all to me.

My husband, who was such a hard worker, let a 17 year old take over and run his life. His marriage vows meant nothing. There was a new sheriff in town, and her name was Emma.

After I found out that Emma had lied about “Lacey” being raped, and “Lacey” never attempted suicide, never called Emma from the ER up in Dalton, Ga., so there was no catalyst for Emma’s repressed memories of being seually molested when she was 12, I began investigating other stories. You can read back through the blog about many of the lies. Emma claimed to be babysitting and had to call 911 on a bipolar child, Emma has the toxicology report to prove her mother poisoned her with DDT, Emma’s one-act play competitions was ruined by another school tampering with their sound equipment………. Big lies and little lies. Emma’s whole life was full of them. Emma would say something about someone, and I would talk to the person and bring up what Emma had told me and find out Emma had just made up story after story. Many of her lies were harmless, and some were hilarious. Some lies Emma took from something she read, like the Reader’s Digest, and others came from something she saw on the internet. Being a loving mom, I just excused Emma’s stories thinking she misunderstood something someone said, thinking she just got the story wrong, or maybe I was confused and got the story wrong, but then when I would check with Emma, she would re-confirm what she had said, and, well, no……………..I wasn’t crazy.  She could sure make me feel like I was though.

We had a friend, Emma’s “Aunt Janice” who swore like a sailor at times, but then cracked us up when she said things like she was letting her dogs out to go “pee-pee-doodle,” so one day Emma told me about Aunt Janice swearing “Jimminy Crap-Shit” at pet adoptions.  I thought that was pretty funny, and when later I said something to Janice about it, she said, “I never said that.” It sure sounded good though, didn’t it?  Emma has a great sense of humor with her stories.

Emma claimed that at her youth group one day, her crush, Evan and his mom were there, and Evan’s mom was talking about how she made the boys (a high schooler and a middle schooler) use sippy cups in the living room so they didn’t spill on the carpet.  Emma claimed Evan got so angry at his mom that he stormed out of the church and Emma looked out the window a few minutes later and then said, “Ummm, Miss Megan, your van is driving away.” and then Evan’s mom went running out of the church to catch up to Evan.  Great story, right?

Until I started digging, I had no idea how much of a problem Emma had with lying. I know kids lie, but when is lying a problem? Looking back, in Emma’s case, she lied more than she told the truth. I had absolutely no idea that there was something wrong with Emma, and it wasn’t that she was sexually molested. There was something much more going on. I wonder now, has Tyler Buchheim started to catch on? I know he’s busy with school and all, but living with Emma, you would think he would start to notice that something is not quite right with his wife. Does Emma gaslight Tyler the way she did me? Hiding things and then acting like I was the crazy one who but the math book in the bathroom cabinet or the cordless phone in the refridgerator?  Is it possible Emma will outgrow her lying habit or is is just something that is part of her personality forever and ever, amen? It will be interesting to see just where Emma is in a few years and what else is going on with her.

I remember when Bill Clinton was president and was sometimes referred to as the “liar-in-cheif.” On second thought, maybe Emma should get into politics. She might have quite a career there.

I’ve gotten a little off track in writing about Phill and the apology that never came. I have a little more to say on that and will continue in the next post.

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to contact me with any questions or comments.

Love to you all.

Happy 2nd Anniversary Emma and Tyler

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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 California where Emma sells insurance.  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.

Happy 2nd Anniversary to Emma and Tyler!

EmmaTylerWedding

Happy 2nd anniversary to my lovely daughter Emma Katherine Buchheim and my wonderful son-in-law, Tyler Albert Buchheim. Being the middle of the week, I hope you get to do something fun, either going out to dinner or celebrating on the weekend! I’m sure Emma will have some kind of celebration planned.

As you know Emma, your dad and I kept anniversaries pretty low key. Going to Tybee on our 23rd while you were at church camp was the biggest thing we did. I wanted to do something on our 25th, but we didn’t have anywhere for you to go, so that didn’t happen, and I was looking forward to our 30th, but that wasn’t meant to be.

You will have to ask Daddy about our 2nd anniversary though. That was probably our most interesting anniversary. Back in 1986, I was working as a receptionist for a veterinarian, and worked with an assistant named Gail. Remember how you always made fun of Sandra Brooks McCravy for how much she called me and poured out her problems to me? Well, Gail was a lot like that, but she didn’t cry near as much as your Aunt Sandi. We were friends, and Daddy and I had her over to dinner and such, but I didn’t think of Gail as a really close friend. I liked her ok, but she was way too needy. She suffered from some mental issues and saw a therapist and a social worker on a regular basis. I don’t remember her being on any medication. Daddy used to joke about her having to pay people to listen to her, but we were very young and didn’t know much about mental illness. Gail had had an unhappy childhood and always seemed kind of depressed. I remember her telling me about her mother confiding in her that her dad was having an affair when she was maybe middle school aged, and she didn’t know how to handle that information. I think she liked being around Daddy and me because we were stable and happy. She was another person who called us “soulmates” and when I joked once about how you never know what will happen, about Daddy and I being together or not in 30 years or something like that, I remember her saying, “Oh, you and Phill will be together forever. You’re soulmates.” I’ve never forgotten that conversation, although I can’t remember what we were initially talking about.

Anyway, back before cell phones, when Daddy was working for UPS and driving one of the package cars, his route was in Sandy Springs, Ga, north of Atlanta. The UPS Center that Daddy worked out of was in Doraville, Ga, and we lived in Doraville at the time. Daddy would call me from somewhere on his route to let me know about when he’d be home so I could plan dinner.

I could work with Gail all day, and she would still call me when I got home from work. She would always ask if Daddy had called because she knew I would not stay on the phone if I hadn’t heard from him, and if he had, she would want to talk to me. I didn’t mind too much because we didn’t really talk much at work except when we occasionally went out to lunch together, but a lot of times I just stayed on the phone because I was too nice and didn’t know how to politely say I had other things to do. This was also before cordless phones, so you couldn’t move around while you talked on the phone either! In this day of talking, texting, and instant communication, I’m sure you have a hard time imagining what it was like for us back then, but we survived.

June 30th, 1986, Daddy and I were going to go out for our 2nd anniversary to Steak and Ale for a prime rib dinner. There was one I the Chamblee/Dunwoody area, and I don’t know if it is even still there. We didn’t go out to nice restaurants very often, so this was a treat. I remember I was dressed in a print skirt and matching top of little pastel flowers, and wearing the little opal necklace Daddy had given me for our anniversary. I always loved opals and had wished I was born in October, so they could be my birthstone, but nooooooooooooo, I had to get that ol’ yellow topaz and the alternate stone is the citrine, with is pretty much the same color. (Back then, you didn’t see a lot of the blue topaz like you do now.)

We were getting ready to go when Gail called, and I don’t even remember why she called, just that she was depressed. She must have talked about harming herself and we ended up going over to her apartment, which wasn’t far from where we lived. It’s been so long, I don’t remember all the details, but Daddy might. We ended up taking Gail to Northside Hospital, and then taking her home again. We were going to leave her when she got upset and got a steak knife and took it into the bedroom with her. Then, after more phone calls, we took her too a mental hosptial in Smyrna, Ga, and I think it is now called Ridgeview, but I can’t remember if that’s what it was called back then.  It was a lot like Charter Peachford, where you went.  Well, with all the driving and waiting at the hospitals, we didn’t get home and to bed until about 4am, and we both had to work the next day. I remember being so sleepy and just fighting to stay awake at work. It was horrible.

After all that, I think Gail owed us a steak dinner, but she was kind of in her own world and it didn’t occur to her that she had ruined our evening. I think she had a hard time seeing past her own problems.

Daddy and I did finally go out for our prime rib dinner to Steak and Ale, but it was on July 4th. We enjoyed a good meal and then had a romantic night at home. (I guess now that you’re a married lady, it’s ok for you to know that your parents had s-e-x! Big An used to say that every generation thinks they invented sex. I know you can’t imagine your mom and dad or Sherry and Bob loved/love each other like you and Tyler do.)

So, Happy Anniversary Emma and Tyler. I would have sent a card, but I didn’t want to cause Emma any PTSD or anything. I hope your 2nd anniversary is a lot less eventful than ours was!

Lots of love,

Mom/Maze

Happy Birthday Tyler Buchheim and a Princess Diana Story

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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 California where Emma sells insurance.  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.

Happy 26th Birthday, Tyler Buchheim!

I want to wish a very Happy Birthday to my son-in-law, architect extraordinaire, Tyler Albert Buchheim who turns 26 on Aug. 21! Tyler, I hope you have a wonderful day! Take care of my girl!

CaptureTyler

Emma and Princess Diana

With all the reminders of the the anniversary of Princess Diana’s death, I wanted to share this story.

When Emma was three, we were visiting my sister in CT, and she fell in love with their guinea pig, so after we got home, we adopted a little guinea pig from the Atlanta Humane Society. Emma named her Milkbone, and she was a great little pig. Milkbone was more like a puppy who would follow you around and was very affectionate. When I held her, she would even nip at my shirt when she needed to go to the bathroom (#1). I could put her back in her pen and hear a little whiz, and then she would stand up on her hind legs, wanting me to pick her up again. She was definitely a very special piggie. She would also lick your face when she was excited, like when you first picked her up. Of course, typical kid, Emma lost interest and didn’t pay as much attention to Milkbone after a while, but that was ok. She still held her some, and I took her out and held her at least once or twice a day. Her pen was an open sterlite box in the breakfast nook, so she was kind of in the center of things and it was always easy to stop and reach in and pet her.

There was a program on every afternoon called, “Once Upon a Hamster” and we had a little routine where Emma would sit on the sofa with a towel in her lap and some vegetables and Milkbone would sit on her lap and happily munch away while Emma petted her and watched her program. The station the program was one was one of those off stations and it had those kind of “as seen on tv” commercials where you could purchase something amazing for just three payments of $19.95… Up to this point, Emma had only watched PBS, and she was just fascinated with the commercials and wanted me to buy everything she saw such as collectibles, gadgets, etc. She would call to me, “MOM! We need this! Look! You put it on your hose and was the car with it!” It was pretty cute to see her take so seriously and get so excited about every commercial that came on.

On Aug. 31, 1997, a friend invited Emma and I over to play in their above ground pool. We were enjoying cooling off, playing with the kids, when the husband came out to tell us that Princess Diana had died. We were kind of shocked and talked about it and that was it.

Not long after that, Emma was sitting with Milkbone, watching Once Upon a Hamster, and a commercial came on for some Princess Diana stamps. “Mom! We need to buy these Princess Diana stamps!”

Dianastamp

I walked into the room, glanced at the tv, and explained to Emma that I was sure they were really nice, but we didn’t need any Princess Diana stamps. Emma immediately had a meltdown and sobbed, “But, Mom!!! ………… She’s dead!!” (We still didn’t buy them, but Emma’s and Tyler’s anniversary is coming up, so if you need a gift idea…..) Poor Emma. Scarred for life because she didn’t get her Princess Diana stamps.

Emma and the Other Woman

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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 California where Emma sells insurance.  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.

 

Emma and the Other Woman

I’ve wondered a couple of things about Emma and the other woman. First, I was the other woman, but I was too stupid to realize I was in a competition, and I lost. I also didn’t know the rules for playing against someone who has what I assume is an anti-social personality. They don’t play by the same rules as the rest of us, and they will do anything to win. If you fight fair, you don’t have a chance.

As I’ve written, I’m not sure that Emma has a conscience. Ok, as her mom who raised her for 17 years, I really don’t think Emma has a conscience. I would LOVE to be proven wrong, and I don’t think you, dear reader, can imagine how much I would love to be proven wrong on this. I want to think Emma has a heart and a moral compass, and I pray for God’s healing for her everyday, but I can’t say I’m hopeful. I think Emma is what she is. Supposedly 1 out of 25 people is a sociopath, and as much as I hate to say it, I think my daughter is one of them. I pray everyday that I’m wrong, but there is something very wrong with Emma. When you’re pregnant you worry about every little thing that could go wrong with the baby, and I was so happy Emma had all her fingers and toes and was a happy, beautiful baby, and I thought Phill and I could raise her to be a decent human being, someone who would make a positive difference in the world, but I never worried about my child having a personality disorder. That was never something that occurred to me. I could never have imagined what kind of person my daughter would turn out to be.

Emmaboots

Emma loved cowboy boots when she was little!  I will never forget her wearing her pretty Christmas dress to church when she was three with her ugly brown (hand-me-down) cowboy boots!  It was precious!

So, if Emma is a sociopath, how does she feel about the other woman in her dad’s life? I can’t tell you the number of people who’ve said to me, “Oh, just wait until Phill gets a girlfried. She’d better look out! Emma will take care of her!” I’ve often thought that Emma got me out of the way, and that was her goal, so she probably doesn’t give her mother a second thought. Mission accomplished. But, then again, I’ve wondered if her dad having a new squeeze made Emma happy that she could stick it to her mother one more time or did she even think of that? Is she so wrapped up in her California life with Tyler, trying to prove what a grownup she is, that she doesn’t even care about having a stepmom? I’m reading and learning about personality disorders and people like Emma, but I know I will never be quite the authority like all of Emma’s therapists.

And, being the good little Christian girl that Emma is, I’m sure Emma wants her dad and Kim Chassion married and not living in sin anymore.

I’m sure at first, Emma will love Kim Chassion and call her “mom” like she called Sandra Brooks McCravy “Mommy.” And, in addition to another mommy figure, Emma gets a new “sister” in Sydney Chastain. Emma always wanted a sister and resented me for not having more children. She often said ugly things to me about being an only child and how I didn’t give her a sister, and she was always trying to adopt younger girls at church to be their big sister. At one time, I thought Emma was just being sweet to the younger girls, but now I think part of this was because Emma didn’t do well with peers her own age, so by gathering a flock of younger girls, she could be the authority figure and be in control, and be in charge, and they would listen to her and do what she wanted.

As for Phill, I mentioned that for 26 years, 9 months, and 14 days Phill loved being married, and I have no doubt that he wants to be married again, if he’s not already. Phill told me almost daily how happy he was to be married to me, and he often brought up that we had the longest lasting marriage in his family. Phill hates being alone and always missed me terribly whenever I was gone for more than a few days. In other ways, Phill wants to be married, so he can say, “This is my wife……….” and pretend that he is as normal as possible. He will no longer have to talk about his ex-wife, and we all know when you meet a 59 year old with a girlfriend, everyone speculates, “Is he divorced?” “Never married?” “What’s the deal?”

I have wondered what Kimberly Chassion thinks of our divorce? Are there any red flags going up? I’ve known a lot of women that will take a man, any man, just to have one and will not question anything he says because they want a man so badly, but I have wondered. Does Kim just blindly believe everything Phill says? Has she picked up on that there’s something not quite right with Emma yet?

I want to learn more about men and their midlife crises, and that it something I plan on reading more about in the future, but I just haven’t gotten to it yet. How do you go from telling your wife how much you love her and then turn on a dime and say you’ve “put up with a lot” and “there’s too much water under the bridge?” And then, instead of a sports car, you buy RC airplanes and travel the country being a pretend pilot, hanging out, talking toy air planes, and drinking beer with your buddies.

But I digress……….. Anyway, I think there will be sort of a honeymoon phase for Emma, and she will love her new mom and new sister at first. What Kimberly Chassion and Sydney Chassion need to know is that Emma will lie TO them and Emma will lie ABOUT them. That is just Emma. After I looked back on it, I realised Emma lied about almost everyone she ever knew. Phill choose not to believe Emma has a problem even though I pointed out lie after lie after lie, but deep down, he knows the truth. He just has to take the easy way, and not facing Emma’s problems is how Phill needs to deal with things right now. I loved my husband, and one of the endearing things about him was his easy going personality, but along with that easy going personality is a passiveness, and Phill doesn’t like to rock the boat. Phill doesn’t like to make the difficult decisions, I always had to, right up until he had me thrown out of our home, and then Emma took over as the decision maker of the family.

Whatever happens, Kimberly Chassion and Sydney Chassion will find out that life with Emma won’t be boring.

To be Transformed

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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 California where Emma sells insurance.  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.

EmmaFundraiser

Emma helping with a Fundraiser for the Dog/Cat Rescue

Transformed

A few months ago, I ran into a couple of people (separately) I hadn’t seen in quite some time. One, was a young woman, Emma’s age, who knew Emma as a teen, and she said to me, “How’s the Demon child?” I laughed and we talked for a bit, not about Emma, but just catching up.

That same week, I ran into another person who’d known Emma, who asked something along similar lines as the “demon child.” I kept thinking about how it just seemed funny that I ran into two people I hadn’t seen in years and they both asked about Emma in the same way, joking about the awful things she’d done. Both of these people liked Emma when they knew her, but they just didn’t believe Emma’s tales of abuse.

A short time later, I heard from an old friend that Emma and I went to our “small group” with, and I hadn’t seen her in 4 or 5 years. She asked about Emma, and I told her what I knew and she said she would pray that Emma’s heart is transformed.

What a sweet thought. If Emma only knew how many people have prayed for her. Can Emma’s heart be transformed? Can Emma be healed? If you have faith, you believe that God can change someone’s heart. It does happen. It has not happened in the time I wished for it to happen. It may not happen in my lifetime.

Now, if you know me, you know I believe there is something very wrong with Emma. I would like to NOT believe this. I would like to think there’s still hope that my daughter will grow up and stop being the victim. I would like to think Emma will take some responsibility for her actions. I would like to think we raised her better, and that Emma will stand up, admit her wrongs, and we could all move forward, but Emma is too tangled in her web of deceit. Things have gone too far. There are too many people that Emma would have to face if she told the truth now. There are too many people that would have to know Emma was not who she pretended to be.

If you’ve ever worked with the public, you start to notice that there’s probably a whole lot of undiagnosed mental illness out there. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard someone (who works with the public) talk about this “crazy customer” or that “crazy client,” etc. And some folks believe we are all just a little bit crazy in some way or another. Some of us just hide it better than others. I would like to believe that Emma could quit her acting and grow up, but in all honesty, I’m not very optimistic.

All of this makes me very sad for Emma. She’s a young married lady, and her whole marriage is based on lies. She lied to Tyler about who she is and lied to his family to get them to take her in. She played the poor victim who wasn’t safe living at home alone while her dad was on over-the-road truck driver for UPS, so she got the Buchheim, and in particular, Tyler’s grandparents, the Knopp family, to welcome her into their home in Ohio. Who couldn’t feel sorry for this poor young thing, a victim of sexual abuse and physical abuse. Emma needed to be taken care of, and she was so sweet and charming, that everyone loved her.

As a mother, you want to see your daughter grow up and be an adult, and Emma is certainly and adult now, married, and working, but her whole life is based on lies. She knows it, and I know it, and anyone else who figures it out will be cut out of Emma’s life because that is what she does. Emma is like the drug addict who can’t kick the habit. They can be wonderful and charming when they’re clean, but then they fall back into their old habits. Some of them do make it out of the abyss, and are able to put the past behind them, but many aren’t and just keep repeating the same pattern again and again.

Raising Emma, I knew I made a lot of mistakes as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, in all my roles as a failed human being, but I truly understand that life is a journey, and I’m still on that journey. I always thought that with whatever mistakes we made, Phill and I were still doing something right with Emma. I looked around at all the messed up kids in the world, grateful that that wasn’t my kid. My kid was doing ok. She was going to be just fine. She was smart and talented and could do whatever she wanted to in life. We gave her a stable, loving home, and a good basic education, that she could be whatever she wanted to be. I knew the odds weren’t that Emma would actually go to medical school (specifically YALE) like she talked about for years, but I always believed that if Emma wanted to become a doctor, she could. I never imagined what kind of things were going on in Emma’s head. We knew she lied, but we thought they were just typical childhood fibs, and we had no idea that Emma’s lying was growing in such a way that they were out of control.

One of the things that makes me sad is Emma’s marriage to Tyler Buchheim. It seems like starting off a marriage with so many lies gives a foreboding prediction of Emma and Tyler’s future. The lies will accumulate and Tyler will realize that the marriage is one big lie. As Emma’s mom, I want to smack her on the rump (but not in any child-abuse kind of way) and tell her to sit down with her husband and get this all straightened out so they can get the marriage on the right footing. Tyler is not a dummy. He went to Notre Dame for gosh sakes. I know he’s young and in love, but he’s going to figure this out sooner or later. Being a good Catholic, I wonder if Tyler would get the marriage annulled based on fraud? Come on, Emma, save your marriage before it’s too late. But, alas, I’m just the long distance mom and have no power. As always, Emma’s going to do what Emma’s going to do. Or, as a friend so aptly put it, “She’s made her bed, and she’s going to keep lying in it.” (Get it?)

I know I joke, because humor is what gets you through, or at least it does for me, but I pray for Emma daily, and who knows? Maybe her heart will be transformed one day. Maybe she will be the young woman I always thought she could be. I want to tell Emma, “You’re better than that, Emma.” but, sadly, I’m not sure she is. I would like to think so, and maybe one day she will be, but I’m so sad for who she is right now. I have no power but to tell her story.

Someone recently posted this clip from Rocky’s inspirational speech to his son on Facebook, and it reminded me of Emma. Enjoy:

The Husband – The Gift That Keeps on Giving, Part 2

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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, 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 California where Emma sells insurance.  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 Husband – The Gift That Keeps Giving, Part 2

So, in going through some of my things, I noticed it was just small personal things. Mostly a lot of junk I don’t want now like lots of clothes and books.  Phill gets to decide what is mine and what isn’t.   Phill had already told me I couldn’t have the desk he gave me for my birthday one year. I couldn’t have any furniture or anything else because I didn’t take it immediately. (I was still stupid enough to think that Phill would come to his senses and do the right thing, even after the divorce.)

I emailed Phill and mentioned a Wolf print by Carl Brenders that we had hanging over our fire place. It was either 1991 or 1992 that Phill got it for my birthday. We’d gotten some fall catalogs, and I saw this print and loved it. A close friend had some smilar wolf prints, and I’d always admired hers.

Carl Brenders

Phill was going to surprise me with the print for my birthday, but the UPS man kind of ruined it. (Those darn UPS men! They ruin everything. Even their marriages!) I came home from work, and the print was leaning up against the garage. Phill had beat me home from work, thinking he would be there to get the print, if it came that day, and hide it before my birthday. He was upset the the UPS man had just left it there and never rang the bell, so I got to open up my birthday present early.

Then, after lugging through some of the stuff in the storage unit, I found some things that were in my closet, but not some photo albums that I had. Since Phill had threatened to block my texts some time ago (2 or 3 years, I think?) I’d never texted him since, but since I was sitting here with my phone, I thought “What the heck.” and texted him a message:

“Just wondered what you did with our wedding photos?”

About 30 minutes later, I got this e-mail:

I failed to renew the block on your number, I have fixed that. I have never been afraid to face you, but you showed me that was pointless early on.

If you want the wolf print I will put it in the storage unit Friday. It was not a birthday present but a joint anniversary present. You can also have the wedding album if you want it. This is the last of things you will get. I tried repeatedly for years to get your things, and you chose not to.

Let me know,

Phill

 

Failed to renew the block on my number? What does that mean? I thought once you block someone, that’s it. They are blocked. Ok, whatever. Technology is not my forte.

Phill used to save all our receipts, so I thought he probably still had them. He had files and files crammed with old statements, bills, etc. When I emailed back and said he might want to check the credit card statements, I got this message from Phill:

 

Fine, If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. I don’t think I am and you know the receipts are long gone. Please just answer the question.

 

Boy do we have different memories!! I know that’s true for everyone. The brain does funny things.

It’s not really the wolf print I want to talk about though. Phill gave it to me, and it was mine, but I considered it “ours” and if Phill wants to keep it, along with everything else, he might as well have that too. Even though he offered it to me, if he treated the print like he’s treated the rest of my things, I wouldn’t want it anyway, so please just keep it and take care of it. Since our 34th anniversary is coming up, he can have it as an anniversary gift, or it can be a wedding gift for him and Kim Chassion.

What is interesting to me is the tone of Phill’s emails. Now, I’ll admit, I loved my husband. I didn’t want a divorce. He broke my heart and let our 17 year old daughter take over my role as woman of the house while he went off gallivanting, playing with toy air planes and drinking with his beer buddies. (No, nothing incestuous, just that Emma started acting like the wife doing the shopping, cooking, taking care of the pets, going out with her dad, etc. I joke about Emma was Phill’s 2nd wife and Kim will be his 3rd.) It has taken me 6 years to be able to write about Phill. I was so heartbroken that I just couldn’t. I couldn’t even talk about the divorce for a few years. It was too painful. I had my close friends, but when others would ask me, I would say I was divorced and leave it at that. I just couldn’t say anymore. And, part of me believed that my husband would eventually do the right thing. I know Phill well enough to know his weaknesses, and he just can’t face the truth, even 6 years later.  I have survived, however.

 

Emma had to cut me out of her life because she knows I know the truth, so it’s a lot easier to say to people that she was abused by her horrible mother because her mother isn’t there to speak up. That’s ok. That’s part of Emma’s personality, whether you want to call it a personality disorder or mental illnes or whatever. It is just who she is, a perpetual victim.

 

So anyway, a couple of things I thought were interesting in Phill’s e-mails were his tone. I’ve contacted him once by text in the past few years, and he got so upset, he got that “fixed.” Really? One text from you ex-wife is such a harassment that you have to put a block on? Ok, so sorry to have upset you so deeply, dear husband.

The other thing I thought was interesting was Phill’s “pointless” comment. It was pointless to deal with your wife, so you have your wife thrown out of your home. It was pointless to stand up to your 17 year old daughter who manipulated you into doing her bidding. It was pointless to get your family into therapy to figure out what was going on. After finding out your daughter’s friend wasn’t raped and didn’t attempt suicide, so there went Emma’s excuse for her “repressed memories,” it was pointless to look into Emma’s story. After finding out Emma was claiming her mother had poisoned her with DDT and claimed to have a pathology report to prove it, it was pointless to discuss this with your wife, let’s just let Emma go on her merry way, telling lies wherever she goes.  (Poor Tyler.  I’m really hoping he can be the man that Emma is going to need him to be, or does he take after his dad, Robert, whom Emma described as a “wimp?”)

Anyone that’s been married a while knows that it’s not always easy. Sometimes you have to choose to work things out, but for my husband, it was pointless, and he chose to throw away his wife instead. For the almost 27 years of our marriage, I will say it was pretty easy. We got along well, loved each other, and loved our life together. We didn’t face too many difficulties, so maybe that’s why Phill fell apart when we had such a big one. I tend to think our problems multiplied by first Emma’s issues, and then when Phill couldn’t handle things, he went into a midlife crisis instead of choosing to man-up and deal with it. He let Emma take over, and she was in charge.

I was telling a friend about Phill’s recent emails, and she said, “Me thinks the husband doth protest too much!” (And I have to apologize to my 12th grade English teacher, Miss Kimball. I heard that and at first thought Macbeth, but that was actually Hamlet! It’s been a long time since I read Shakespeare!  Oh, how I remember working so hard to memorize that Hamlet Soliloquy!) I don’t think Emma has a conscience, and I’ll write more about that along with some examples at some point, but I do think Phill does. He has a conscience, but he doesn’t have much of a backbone. I had to be the disciplinarian with Emma, the bad guy, and when faced with Emma’s threats of “If you make me see mom, I’ll run away.” Phill couldn’t deal with it, so he gave in to Emma. Phill knows he messed up, but would rather go on with his life than face what he did. He got the house, got rid of the wife, has the new squeeze, and hangs with a new crowd, so he can keep up the pretense that he was justified in ruining his wife’s life.  Suckered by a 17 year old.  Pretty tough for a MENSA eligible fellow to swallow.

Marriage1985One of the things Phill left me in the storage unit was this cross stitch sampler that I made in 1985. It hung in our bedroom. I’m not sure why in the world Phill would think I wanted it. Maybe I should send it to Emma and Tyler?

The Husband–The Gift That Keeps on Giving

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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, 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 California where Emma sells insurance.  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 Husband—The Gift That Keeps on Giving

My last couple of posts were about Moving Madness and how I missed some personal items that I never got after Phill threw me out of our home. Of course, having just bought a home, I miss a LOT of the practical items that I could use such as furniture and such too, but wouldn’t you know, after writing, I received an e-mail from Phill:

I really don’t want to throw out your personal belongings, although in five+ years you’ve never attempted to get them.

I’ve rented a small storage unit at Jackson Self Storage, 489 Zion Church Rd, Braselton, GA 30517. I’ve moved all your personal belongings into it and will mail you a key tomorrow. There are somewhere between 15 and twenty boxes. I put all the heavy ones as low as possible. Take what you want, and when the lease expires at the end of June I’ll dispose of the rest. That gives you a full month to go through everything.

 Unit……………………….

Phill

Storage101

26 years of marraige, and I’m only allowed my personal items such as clothes, books, etc. according to my wonderful husband.  And let’s not make it easy to go through.  Just cram it all in there.

So, if you’ve read the blog over the past several years, you know that I have told Phill multiple times to go ahead and get rid of my things, do whatever he wants with them, I didn’t care. Yes, there were some things I wanted, but it just wasn’t that important to me. It wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t coming to get my stuff. I was living in a very small furnished house and didn’t have room for anything. It’s ok, honey. Just get rid of it. Do whatever makes you happy.

Are you wondering if Phill has a guilty conscience? He threw me out of our home April 7, 2011, and has held on to my things for 6 years now? Even after I told him he could get rid of my things, and even after having his esteemed attorney, Bradley D. Moody of Lee Sexton and Associates P.C., graduate of Atlanta’s John Marshall Law School, son-in-law of Matt Klos, husband of Jessie Klos Moody, father to cute little little Ella Moody, who signs his letters with his Bar#655693, send me a letter about having a third party pick up my things (because Phill is too much of a coward to face his wife) and of course, as most attorneys like to bully people, Mr. Bradley D. Moody, Esq., also had to threaten me with storage charges for Phill keeping my things. (Don’t worry Mr. Bradley D. Moody, one thing Emma taught me is to document well, and I have the e-mails from YEARS ago where I told Phill he could get rid of my things.)

Sometimes, during our 26 year marriage, I would joke with Phill about his passive aggressive streak. Phill is a perfectionist about a lot of things. If he cared about doing something, he would do it right. He would research and read about how to do something before tackling it, and do every little detail to make it right.

Phill would also freely admit he was a procrastinator.   I didn’t really mind that because I didn’t care about most stuff, but it did bug me when he would tell me he was going to do something, even though I didn’t ask him to, and then he wouldn’t follow through. I would ask him to not tell me he was going to do something if he really wasn’t. That did aggravate me. “Just don’t tell me, so I won’t be expecting it.”

Then, if I did remind Phill about something told me he would do, he would do it, but not do the typical good job he did on things. Later, I would joke with him that his passive aggressive side was showing.  It was always very clear if Phill was doing something willingly or grudgingly.

Procrastinator

When someone shared this on FB, I had to laugh.  It is sooo Phill!

Well, Phill’s passive aggressive side is showing again.

I wasn’t sure I even wanted to bother, but I went to the storage unit where Phill dumped my things. First off, he rented the smallest unit he could, so everything is crammed in there, and I can’t go through it without pulling everything out, and some of the boxes are too heavy for me to lift and put back. Most of the stuff is ruined, so I don’t want it, and I’m certainly not going to drag it home.

Mouse turds

A box of books with other things thrown in.  You can see some dead cockroaches and all the little turds.  Ummmm,  No thanks, I won’t be bringing these home..

cat dollThis was a sweet little cat figure Phill bought me, early in our marriage, when we went to visit a shop in Sandy Springs Ga. that was on his UPS route at the time.  This was a Christmasy cat and I got another one in a pink dress, but I haven’t found that one.  This one was thrown in with a box of books, not packed carefully at all, and you can see one of the little turds on the apron.  Ummm, thanks anyway honey, but I don’t really want all this nasty stuff you left me.   

I don’t know if Phill or Emma did the packing, but while some clothes were put in a wardrobe box, others were thrown in garbage bags. I brought a few things home in a garbage bag that I thought I might want, but once I got home, there were bugs in among the clothes, so they didn’t even come in the house. Most of them smelled bad, I guess from having sat out in the garage for 6 years. If I hadn’t worn it in 6 years, I probably don’t need it now.

I opened a couple of boxes and found things thrown together. Fragile things were thrown in boxes of books. Some of the boxes were full of roach and mouse turds, and a lot of things were ruined from either the mice, bugs, or the heat and humidity. It was gross. Thank goodness I had some hand sanitizer in the car.

I do have a question for Bradley D. Moody, attorney at law of Lee Sexton and Associates P.C., son-in-law of Matt Klos, husband of Jessie Klos Moody, father to cute little little Ella Moody, who signs his letters with his Bar#655693. Mr. Moody, since you were threatening me with storage charges for Phill keeping my things, even though I told him years ago that he could get rid of my things, wasn’t Phill supposed to do his due diligence and take proper care of my things? I mean, really!

Another interesting note, was some things that Phill took back, the ol’ Indian Giver. I had an old uniform with a white apron, and I kept it in the closet and kept my pins on the white apron. I had saved almost all of Phill’s UPS Safe Driving pins that he GAVE me.  He didn’t want them. I think there were 23 or so at that point, and when I found that uniform with the apron, the UPS pins were gone. At some point, early on, I had asked for the pins and told him I wanted to keep those UPS pins, but I guess I’m not entitled to them now that I’m the ex-wife. I hope Kim Chassion enjoys them. (I don’t know if Phill and Kim have married yet, but Phill needs to be married. I’ll write more about that later.)

Pins

What was left of my pin collection, or I guess I should say, what Phill allowed me to have of my pins.

I guess I will go back and go through a few more things. I’m not sure it’s worth the bother, but there are a few mementos I would like to have if I stumble upon them.

Thank you, Honey.  You’re a Peach.  Oh, wait, you’re from New Jersey.  Maybe I should say, “You’re a Silver Queen Corn.”  You shouldn’t have. I mean, you really shouldn’t have. Really.

SilverQueenPhillMy Silver Queen, Phill.  I’m sort of seeing the resemblance.

Moving Madness and Why I Gave Phill Our Home

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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, 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 California where Emma sells insurance.  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.

Moving Madness and Why I Gave Phill Our Home

Once again, I was thinking of some of the things I don’t have.   The other day, I was talking to some friends about trying a recipe, now that I have a decent kitchen. (My rental house had a very small counter, and not a lot of kitchen space, and I’ve worked two jobs for the past 5 years, so I didn’t cook much. And besides, Phill has all my kitchen dishes, pots, pans, tools, etc.)

So I was talking to friends, and said, “Oh, wait. I can’t make this yet. I need a rolling pin and a baking sheet before I try it.” Darn that Phill. He got all my stuff, and thinking about trying a recipe just means more work because not only do I have to shop for the groceries, but the cookware as well.

I’m still settling in. That will take a while. I don’t have much furniture, so I don’t have places to put things. Phill has all our old dressers, armories, entertainment center, book cases, night stands, chests, china cabinet, my desk, my office chair, etc., etc., etc. He did let me have one dresser and a $10 cheap book case he got at Office Depot or Office Max and had stuck in the garage to get rid of.

I bought a smallish antique chifferobe from a friend just because I liked it and could use it, and they were moving and getting rid of some things. Well, wouldn’t you know, we locked the door on the chifferobe when I moved away from crazy neighbor, and then when I went to open it, the key broke with a piece falling inside the lock! I could really use to have that space to put a few things, and I can’t get to it! Just my luck!

I found a site where I could order a bunch of antique keys and I think one of them will work, and then found out they are out of stock and won’t have more keys for about a month. Fortunately, other than to get my rain jacket, which is locked in the chifferobe, there’s nothing in there that I’m desperate for.

So the boxes sit.

I had a beautiful home with Phill. If you want to google it, it was 284 Buck Trail, Hoschton, Ga. 30548.  Even more than our home, I loved the almost 2, mostly wooded acres we had. I spent many hours out in the yard, clearing growth and cutting some of the wild stuff down so we could walk through it. I have always been a dog person, and I loved having a big, fenced-in backyard for the dogs. Later on, Phill built me some agility equipment, and I even though I never wanted to compete in agility, I enjoyed having the dogs run through some exercises on the equipment. I had taken our dog, Little C to agility classes for about a year. It was so much fun, and he loved it, too. Later on, Emma and I took, Benny, one of our foster dogs, to agility too.

Now I have an overgrown back yard that needs a lot of work, and I guess sooner or later I will get to it. I’m not really in a hurry, but I would like to do something with it to get the Georgia clay under control. I either need to terrace the yard, and maybe put down some gravel, or plant some ground cover to cover up all this clay. I don’t want my current little buddy dragging it into the house.

Phillgarden

I thought after Emma was grown, Phill and I would get to a lot of the things we’d talked about doing around the house and yard. Neither of us were real gardeners, but we’d talked about taking a Master Gardener course and as limited as our knowledge was, we had things we thought about doing to fix up the yard. Phill wanted to put in a pond, and I understand he put in an outdoor tv area or some such thing after he dumped me.  Someone told me about it, but I don’t remember what it was. Me, personally, I go outside to get away from that stuff, so I probably wouldn’t have cared much for it, but you know men and their TVs. They like to have them everywhere. I always thought it was kind of funny because Phill wanted TVs everywhere or wanted whatever was new out on the tv scene, and I would say, “Why?” We didn’t watch much television, so I never understood his fascination with wanting the latest and greatest or all his ideas for having TVs everywhere. One thing he wanted to do was have a tv at the end of our bed that recessed into the floor. I will say that when Phill went out and bought a flat screen tv, even though he’d just bought a HUGE tv a couple of years before that he just had to have and got up to go stand in line at a Black Friday sale, I did notice how sharp the picture was. One of the night time talk shows was on, and I think it was Jay Leno talking to Reese Whitherspoon, and I said, “Wow. I can read what’s on the coffee mug.” and Phill beamed, the proud hunter who brought home the prized, elusive, tv. (I think this TV was another Black Friday deal too, if I remember right.) I also remember the gorgeous Reese Whitherspoon had some “back fat” in the beautiful black, strapless gown she wore and thinking, if someone that beautiful has back fat, there is no hope for the rest of us Plain Janes.

I was never much of a decorator, and I had just discovered pinterest right before Phill had me thrown out of our home, so I think, had Phill not thrown away our marriage, I might have gotten ideas for decorating and making our home prettier. I was never good at that sort of thing and needed (still need!) some help. I have a few things I’m good at, but decorating is not one of them.

Phillsuit

Phill Roey, my sweet, geeky, introverted (until he became an RC air plane nut) husband.  Phillip Thomas Roey, Phill Roey

We bought our Hoschton home in 1995, and I thought we would live there until we were brought out of the home feet first.  I never wanted to go through the whole moving ordeal ever again! Every once in a while, Phill would talk about retiring in the N. Ga. Mountains, or some place like that, but I didn’t think he was too serious about it.

I know some of my readers have been through a divorce, or some other horrible life circumstances, and people have asked me why I let Phill have the house. Well, I will tell you and it’s pretty simple. Even after throwing me out of our home and taking off, traveling around the country flying RC planes, acting like a responsibility-free teenager while his family was falling apart, I always thought Phill would do the right thing.  I still believed in my husband.

I knew Phill would not be able to deny Emma’s lies forever. Emma and I might have argued a lot, and maybe I yelled too much (he always joked about how she loved to push my buttons), but he knew I didn’t not abuse my daughter. Emma lied about being molested, about her friend who was NOT raped, and did NOT try to commit suicide, and Emma lied about so many other things and even lied about Phill. Emma lied about being poisoned with DDT and even lied about Tyler’s family. (But the poor boy still married her. I fear the future is not so bright for that marriage.) Sooner or later, the man that I loved, was going to have to come to his senses, face the truth, and stand up for his family.

I could have forced Phill to sell the home, but I didn’t. I couldn’t afford the home and didn’t even have a job yet. I’d been out of my field for 17 years and had to take a course to return to the job market, and even then, let me tell you, not too many people are interested in interviewing someone who hasn’t worked in their field in 17 years. I’d come from the pen and paper days and all of a sudden I was filling out application after application on line and wondering if anyone even read them. There was no way I could afford the mortgage or even the utilities to our Hoschton home. Besides looking in my field, I applied for jobs at places like Home Depot, Target, PetsMart, Doller General, and a couple of jobs as a veterinary assistant. No one at those jobs wanted to hire me because I was over qualified, but I couldn’t get an interview in my field because I’d been out of work for so long.  It was a horrible position to be in.  I thought I’d never get a job.  One of the jobs I interviewed for told me they wouldn’t hire me because they knew I would leave for a better job as soon as I could. After having been a housewife for so long, I was scared.  I cried buckets mostly over the loss of my marriage and family, but also because my future was looking pretty bleak.  No one wanted me as an employee, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

Phill had to pay me a few years of alimony, and he got our home. What else could I do?

I believed in my husband, but I was wrong. I’ll write a little more about this when I finish up writing about the death of my marriage, but that pretty much sums it up. I thought my husband was a better man and he would do the right thing. I was wrong.  I bet on the wrong horse.  Instead, Phill traveled around the country, flying RC planes, acting like a teenager, drinking beer with his buddies, and got a girlfriend.  The man that I had always believed in, who I believed would do whatever he had to to take care of his family, failed with flying colors.  I guess if you’re going to do something, even if it’s something horrible, do it spectacularly, and go down in a blaze of glory.

Moving Madness

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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, 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 California where Emma sells insurance.  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.

 

Moving Madness

As most of you know, I moved recently. I wasn’t planning on moving and really didn’t want to buy my own place, but because of the crazy neighbor situation which was getting kind of scary. (There is a lot I did not talk about in the blog, and I am still working on typing up pages and pages of notes of the craziness.) I don’t know if I will share the entire story on the blog, but because of the craziness, and I think this man could still be dangerous, I wanted to type up all my notes, just in case I might need them at some point. Lord only knows, I wish I’d kept notes on all Emma’s nefarious activities. I did keep some notes on her vomiting, but Phill has those.

Back in the fall, I think it was, when Phill had his (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) “attorney” Bradley D. Moody of Lee Sexton and Associates P.C., son-in-law of Matt Klos, husband of Jessie Klos Moody, father to little Ella Moody, who signs his letters with his Bar#655693 ……………. Mr. Bradley D. Moody sent me a letter on Phill’s behalf wanting me to pick up the few things Phill was allowing me to have out of our Buck Trail home in Hoschton, Ga., and Mr. Bradley D. Moody went so far as to threaten me with storage charges because Phill had my things, oh, and I needed to send a 3rd party because my husband couldn’t face me showing up at our Hoschton home. (I am THAT scary 😉 Anyway, I told Phill he could donate my things to whatever charity he choose. I was not coming to get them. I was renting a furnished house and had no where to put things, and to be honest, the thought of having to go through the things Phill was allowing me to have, and deciding what to keep and what to get rid of would have been so painful, I just preferred not to do it.

Were there things I wanted, yes, of course. There were a lot of personal things, photos, letters, yearbooks, books, mementos, things that meant something to me that Phill would have not even known why they were important to me. There was an antique framed poem that a friend, who has since passed away, had given me that hung on our bedroom wall. There was my childhood postcard collection, many of which came from my grandmother (as in belonged to her, so they were really old), and there were little things I’d gotten from the countries I lived in growing up, as well as our Christmas ornaments (I’m sure Kimberly Chassion is not going to want any part of the ornaments Phill and I accumulated over 26 years of marriage.) There were the glass animals that I had collected when we lived overseas, and the sweet notes Phill had written me over the years, some with little cartoon drawings. (Phill wasn’t much of an artist, but I loved the sentiment.) Phill wouldn’t let me have Emma’s baby photos, so those wouldn’t have been in there.

I think you can get the gist of what I’m saying. All you have to do is look around your home and think of all the little things you have that mean something to you.

In another way though, I lost everything that was important to me. I lost my husband and my daughter. I lost my marriage. I lost my identity. I was no longer Phill’s wife, Emma’s mom, a UPS wife, a boring housewife, etc. And when you lose everything, stuff isn’t that important. Yes, there are things I miss, and sometimes something will pop into my head that I wish I had, and it breaks my heart that it is gone forever, but then again, it is just stuff.

Unfortunately, buying a home, I realize how much stuff I DON’T have. If you look at our old insurance statement to the Buck Trail home, I think Phill had our possessions insured for about $160,000, if I remember right. I will have to dig up that statement. Phill knows he owes me a furnished house, but he’s still living in denial, so I don’t expect him to help me out, and I don’t think I would receive a warm reception if I called him up and said, “Hey, Honey, can I borrow our drill, the mower, the chainsaw, a ladder………..?” Or, “Can I borrow the truck to go down to IKEA for a bed?” “Or what about all those computer you had, honey? And the three or four printers?” I did ask Phill for a television, when the one he gave me died after about 3 months. I didn’t even ask for a good one. We had an old monster of a tv in the garage that he just had to have one Thanksgiving, but then a couple years later he just had to have a flat screen, so that big monster sat out in the garage. I asked him for that one, knowing he didn’t care about it, but he ignored my request. What a Peach. Oh, wait, Phill’s from Brick, New Jersey. He’s definitely not a peach.

I have no tools, (Ok, I bought a hammer and a screwdriver.) no mower, no shovel, rake, hedge trimmers, weed wacker, sheets, towels, dishes, silverware, ect. I bought a mattress and box springs last year, but the bed belonged to my landlord. Phill had the complete advantage by throwing me out of our home. He had all the “stuff” and doled out only what he allowed me to have. I didn’t even have a blanket or comforter for my bed because when I had asked Phill for the blanket that was in my closet and a comforter, he wouldn’t bring them to me. The things I used at the rental house belonged to my landlord, and fortunately, it’s been warm, so sleeping under the sheet has been enough for now, and then today, a friend gave me a nice comforter, so I will have it when I need it. Some other friends gave me a sofa and chair, and I’m shopping for some used furniture. I’m not in any hurry. I don’t plan on moving again, and I need so much, I figure I have plenty of time. (Of course, when we moved to our Buck Trail, Hoschton home, I thought I would never move again. Little did I know what my husband was capable of.)

I still have no mower, but I hired someone to cut the grass.  I did buy a shovel though.

Moving alone has been quite an adventure, and you find out who your friends are when you have to move. I was so lucky to have friends and family who helped me move, gave me some things, and for some coworkers who rearranged their schedules to work for me. I didn’t realize I was supposed to work my last weekend in the rental house, and I had friends coming with a trailer to help me, and as soon as one of my coworkers said, “Aren’t you working this weekend?” Three of my coworkers offered to cover for me. I didn’t even have time to worry about it. It was taken care of.

Phill always set up stuff like the internet, so I had to do that, and it took me three weeks #windstreamsucks, but I got it done. After dealing with Windstream, I had about decided that I could just go down to the library a couple of times a week and live without internet, but it’s nice to have. When my 12 months is up though, I may change to satellite. After what Windstream put me though, trying to get established, I HATE them. It’s kind of funny because when I was asking around, trying to find out what my options were, I found that Windstream pretty much has the monopoly in my area, and I can’t tell you the number of times I heard, “And they suck.”

With all this chaos, I had a few days off, so took the last 5 days to go visit a friend in another state that I hadn’t seen in a while, and the next couple of weeks I am working some extra, so I will be pretty busy, but I wanted to share some thoughts today.

Dear readers, I have a lot more to say. I wanted to finish, “Death of a Marriage” and I still have Emma’s vomiting issues to tackle. Let me know if there’s anything else you want to hear about. As always, send your comments or questions to me at: losingemma@gmail.com

 

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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, 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 California where Emma has a career in sales.  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.

 

May 14, 2017

Mother’s Day

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This is my 7th Mother’s Day without my daughter. I had 16 Mother’s Days with Emma, and actually the 16th was pretty lousy, so I really had 15 good Mother’s Days with my daughter. It was just before that 16th Mother’s day,of 2010 that I had had told my sister in Ct. about Emma’s accusing the priest of sexual molestation. I think that was about the time Emma really began to hate me. I remember picking her up in the car and telling her that I had spoken with her aunt, and Emma was so furious she wouldn’t even speak to me. We were planning a trip to go visit, and my sister and brother-in-law would know something wasn’t right, so I felt I had to tell them. Emma’s control-freak, micro-managing mother was taking things too far, talking to police, counselors, family, friends, etc. The snowball was rolling down hill and picking up speed. All Emma wanted was attention, and she didn’t want the church, the police, the therapists, DFACS, multiple therapists involved. Well, actually, Emma did like some of the attention. She just wanted to pick and choose which attention she received. She loved her hour with the therapists where she had their undivided attention all focused on her for an entire hour. I remember when Emma was middle school age, and Phill kept calling her a drama queen. I thought he was overreacting a little bit to what was a typical pre-teen girl. Maybe he was, but it turned into what Phill used to call a “self-fulfilling prophesy” and Emma became that drama queen that he so often said she was. (And on the flip side, Phill became that dumb-as-a-box-of-rocks-dad that Emma always claimed he was.)

Mother’s Day was usually a quiet holiday in our home. We didn’t do big exciting gifts. Phill might get me some flowers and take Emma out to get me a small gift. That was fine. It was more the attention from Emma, when she was little, that made it a special day. She would hug me multiple times in a day and tell me “Happy Mother’s Day” over and over again. That was what made is special. Or just doing something together was what made it special. Phill might cook me dinner, and do the clean up, and that was a nice treat as well.

I was pretty disappointed in my 2016 Mother’s Day. Emma wanted to play for the Mother’s Day Fashion show after church. She loved all the attention she got for playing the piano, and that was fine. All I had asked for was that afterwards, we have an afternoon at Ft. Yargo, the local state park. I didn’t assume I would have to spell it out, but what I’d meant was a hike and a cookout at the park. For whatever reason, Phill was particularly dense and didn’t bother to get things together for the cookout, and Emma was sulky and sullen, a total non-joy for the afternoon, although at times, she’d put on her fakey smile and pretend like she was enjoying the day. My mother’s day gift from Emma was some candy from the dollar store. No thought or effort involved. I don’t think Emma even got or made me a card that year. Yep, definitely not a banner day.

If you have teenagers, you know how self-centered they can be, and I sure felt like an afterthought, but I knew that was typical for a kid Emma’s age. Occasionally, she could be so sweet and thoughtful, and then on a special day like Mother’s Day, Emma went to absolutely no trouble at all. I was disappointed, but thought that was a typical teen. There were other times, when Emma did something special for me, or was out and brought me home a little something when she was out, which showed me she did think of me, or did appreciate me. One of the sweetest things Emma ever did was to be nice to me when I had a migraine.

I suffered from migraines for years and would go lie in the darkened bedroom with the pillow over my eyes, and Emma would come in and hold my hand and always want to make me a cup of tea. Often times, I was nauseated and really didn’t want the tea, but Emma loved to do it for me, so I took it and thanked her and sipped on it. It was those things she did with love that meant so much to me.

Mother’s Day is difficult for a lot of women, and men too. Some people have lost their mothers. Some couples struggle with infertility and don’t know if they will every be parents. Some mothers have children far away in the military, or in prison, or just far away in another country. And many mothers have children like Emma, who are estranged or mentally ill or on drugs. The internet makes the world a very small place, and I’ve found that many mothers (and fathers) are dealing with the same thing that I have endured for the last 7 years.

I’m sorry Emma has turned out like she has, but I still had the joy of being a mother. The first few years were amazing. How I adored my precious little girl. When she was a baby, it seemed like whatever I did, I did with her in my arms or on my hip. When she was preschool age, I was still the one she wanted to help her with things or to kiss her boo-boos. It’s funny how you go from being that “My mom can do anything” kind of mom to the “My mom is so stupid” kind of mom in the blink of an eye.

In Emma’s case, I think homeschooling was a mistake. Someone pointed out to me that Phill and I didn’t want to see that there was a problem with Emma, and we didn’t realize how much she lied. This person mentioned that other kids would have caught on to Emma pretty quickly and she wouldn’t have been able to pull off a lot of the lies that she did. Kids her own age would have been a lot more savvy than her parents who were blinded by the love for their daughter. Of course, that has also made me wonder if it could have made Emma even worse, and maybe she would have turned into an even better liar had she attended school and been around other kids, some of who were probably just as devious as our sweet Emma.

But, for some people, homeschooling is amazing, and I did get to see some glimpses of that. It was amazing to see Emma grow and learn, and when she really was interested in a topic, seeing her research it on her own. Homeschooling sort of opened up the world to teach one that we are learning all the time, not just until 2:45 when school lets out.

I know for some kids, pulling away is normal. Just before going off to college, kids can be so obnoxious and unpleasant, that the parents want them to go away, and it helps the kids to break away and become more independent. Of course, most kids don’t go to the extreme that Emma did, lying about sexual abuse, accusing a priest, making up stories about a fake suicide attempt, lying about a friend’s mother’s illness, lying about her own mother…

I was reading some books recently and wondering if Emma had read them. We used to have a lot of good discussions about books. I miss that. Other times, I think how I was that boring “mom” and I was just a mom, the lowest of the low in Emma’s eyes. I’m lucky now that I have job I like, and working with the public, I definitely acquire some stories about work, and I miss being able to tell Emma about things, like when I worked at Master’s Academy and we would talk about our classes. Sometimes something will happen at work and I’ll think that instead of that boring introverted mother, Emma might actually think I was cool, and maybe now she wouldn’t look down on her ol’ boring mother. I wish we could talk and I could hear about her job selling insurance. How did she choose to go into this field? It’s a long way from the pediatrician my little girl wanted to become, not that that’s a bad thing. Most of us don’t choose our career when we’re in the 2nd grade. I would love to know how Emma became an insurance agent? Did she finish college or does she plan on it? I’m assuming Tyler is working on his Master’s, only because I’d always heard that you couldn’t really do much with a B.S. Architecture, even from a school like Notre Dame.  Does Emma like her job?  She does have the personality to make a good salesperson, I think.  I would think all her drama classes would contribute to convincing people to buy insurance too.

I was also thinking lately about how lucky I am that at least I know Emma is not alone out in California. She is married and with Tyler, so it does give me some comfort knowing my daughter is not in this big bad world all alone. I’ve known several people who are or were the parents of addicts and often (sometimes for years) had no idea where their children were or if they were even alive. As bad as this whole experience has been, I know it could be worse. At least I know Emma’s safe and not living on the streets somewhere.

So, for all you Mothers out there who are the parents of those “nightmare children,” just know that you are not alone. We may life in the shadows, because we have that child that we can’t brag about, and we are that mom that no one wants to be, but we are still moms, and just because our baby has taken a very bad turn, they are still our baby. Some kids will turn their lives around, and give their mom that happy ending. Others will go on whatever destructive path they have chosen, and they may have broken your heart, but you’ve survived. We mothers are a tough bunch.

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Lots of Love to you, dear readers. You can contact me through the website or e-mail me at losingemma@gmail.com