Happy 2nd Anniversary Emma and Tyler

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

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.

Death of A Marriage, Part 2

Death of a Marriage (Part 2)

26 Years, 9 months, 14 days.

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.

 

I have thought that maybe Phill and I could have survived Emma’s problems or his midlife crisis, but it appears we couldn’t survive both at the same time.

For nearly 27 years, Phill told me almost daily how happy he was being married, being married to me, how much he loved me, etc. Yes, it sounds corny, but he did. I felt the same way. I guess in some ways, even with all the hell Phill put me through, letting Emma divide us when we should have been united and dealing with her issues together, in some ways I was luckier than a lot of people. For almost 27 years, I had a very happy marriage, happier than most, I think. I loved my husband more and more because I thought after 27 years I knew what kind of man he had proven to be. Ok, I was wrong, but I still loved him. We had disagreements, but probably only had heated arguments a handful of times in nearly 27 years. We got along well and loved each other, and we had a lot of fun, just being together. Phill could always make me laugh, and that was one of the things I loved about him. He couldn’t tell a joke to safe his life. He could never get the punchline right, or he would leave out some key element of the story, but Phill was very funny in other ways. He’s quick witted and good at puns. He also does a great Bob Dylan impersonation, but he is usually too self-conscious to do it for anyone but me.

I’ve wondered about this; do I say I was married 26 years? Or do I say I was married 27 years. The divorce was final just before our 28th anniversary, so I guess I could say 27 years, but Phill had the sheriff’s department come and throw me out of our home about 2 1/2 months before our 27th anniversary, so that would make it 26 years. I don’t know how other people count the years of their failed marriages. Do you count the time you were together or the total time up until the divorce is final?

Well, just to keep it simple, I will say 26 years. How do you describe 26 years of a failed marriage? I’m not sure. We were happy. We were very happy. Phill told me everyday that he loved me, and especially in the later years talked about the times we would have together when we were retired, after Emma was on her own. We looked forward to being together without everything being centered around Emma. We’d talked about working on our yard, taking a Master Garder’s course, getting a camper or RV and traveling when Phill retired. I was really looking forward to having some time with my husband again. We figured we’d get down to having just one dog, but Phill said I could still foster one and we could take it on the road with us, advertising that it was for adoption. I figured I’d have to go back to work for a few years when Emma started college, to help pay for it, but Emma managed just fine from what I heard, even getting a scholarship to Piedmont College in Demorest, Ga. (Wouldn’t you love to read her college application essay? I’m sure it must have been all about overcoming being an abused child.) I guess Emma gave up her scholarship when she moved to Ohio to live with Tyler’s family.

I guess that one mistake in our marriage after we had Emma was that everything was about Emma. We lived our lives around Emma. We didn’t have date nights, and in Emma’s 17 years, the only time we took a trip alone was when Emma went to church camp at Camp Mikell, and the week she went happened to fall on our 23rd anniversary. Phill and I slipped off to Tybee Island, Ga for a few days alone and had a wonderful time! We were like excited kids who got to sneak out without the parents. We so enjoyed a few days being alone. As much as we loved Emma, we rarely got some time without her. This was true especially for me since I was the one that homeschooled her.

Something that happened that was kind of funny, on out last day at Tybee, we were packing up the car and then drove to Toccoa, Ga. For the camp performance and to pick up Emma, and we saw this couple in the parking lot of the condo where we stayed, also packing up. Then we saw the same couple at Camp Mikell. We stopped to talk to them, and they’d done the same thing—taken advantage of the kids going to camp to have some alone time!

*********************************************************************

As a young wife, I was very insecure about a lot of things. I was introverted and shy, and I remember thinking how awful it would be if your husband cheated on you. Funny. I had no idea how awful my husband could make my life. A little affair sounds kind of minor in the grand scheme of what I went through.

After years of marriage, I finally felt secure in my marriage. I trusted Phill and felt we were a team and we could get through almost anything together. Up until Phill started flying RC planes, we were never one of those couples who went separate ways on the weekend. We did almost everything together. Up until Phill started flying RC planes, he was pretty introverted just like I was, and we were homebodies. What little socializing we did was with people that I knew, as Phill didn’t really seem to make friends much up until he found his niche with the RC group. All of a sudden he was a big fish in a small pond.

If you read Death of a Marriage, I ended that post saying that Phill didn’t want the divorce, Emma did.

Emma was the one, going with Phill to meet with the attorney. Emma was the one who wanted the divorce from her mother, not Phill. Phill just didn’t know what to do, so he let Emma take over. Even his own attorney admitted this.

While going through the divorce, Emma was on face book bragging about doing the grocery shopping and doing household chores. All of a sudden, she was the woman of the house. She didn’t have any competition for her dad’s attention, and she could play up the sexually abuse and whatever else she made up. I have no doubt she did a lot of research on the internet so she could act out being a victim.

It was during this time that Phill’s midlife crisis hit head on. He had Emma at home, taking care of things there, so he could go off to RC events for a weekend, and not worry about who was taking care of the pets. He was also hanging out with some of his RC buddies who were teaching him how to brew beer. Phill had been interested in setting up a brewery at home, and he would go hang out with his RC buddies, drink beer and talk toy airplnes. It’s kind of funny because Emma was telling Tyler’s family that she wasn’t safe at home while her dad was on the road, but Phill had no trouble leaving Emma to go off for weekends. It was such a shock to me that Phill threw me out of our home on April 7, 2011, but had no trouble going off for a week to SEFF (Southeast Electric Flight Festival, Americus, Ga.) This was such a shock to me, how could Phill take off to fly toy airplanes when his family was falling apart? I don’t know where Emma was when Phill went to SEFF. I’m assuming she stayed with Judy and John Hall because Judy had been driving her to and from school until Phill took her to get her license. Phill had take out the TPO against me, so I’d lost my job of taking Emma to school. The school frowns on child abusers acting as chauffeurs for their abused children.

SEFF2011a

Phill Roey, Phillip Roey, SEFF, 2011

Emma had ruined Phill’s trip to SEFF the year before, so I guess that was why he was so determined to go. I was supposed to go with him, after I finished with the end of year program where I was working. I was supposed to drive down for the weekend, for the end of SEFF, before Phill came home, but Phill rescinded that invitation after he had me removed from our home.

(In 2010, SEFF occurred just after Emma had confessed to us that she had repressed memories of being sexually abused by the priest. She was supposed to go with Phill to SEFF and work as Jeff Meyer’s assistant, and Phill and I thought it would be good for her to get away from home and go. Once down there, Emma called me often. She hid out in the tent she and Phill had, and didn’t do what she was supposed to be doing as Jeff Meyer’s assistant. She was super paranoid that the priest was going to show up and find her for ratting him out. I consoled her over the phone several times, explaining there was no way the priest would know she was down in Americus Georgia for SEFF. He was not going to track her down and show up there. Also, the police were investigating him at that point, so he would have been pretty stupid to go anywhere near Emma.)

Even after Phill threw me out of our home, he tried to hug me, kiss me, hold me and told me he loved me. I was so devastated by what he did, I didn’t understand how he could act so affectionate when he threw me out of our home, and I wanted none of it.

If you know Phill, he is an easy-going guy, to the point of being passive. He just goes along with whatever everyone else is doing, so he let Emma take over the divorce. He wasn’t the one who wanted it, he still loved me, but after Emma took over, and Phill was deep into his midlife crisis, Phill was having too much fun to be married, traveling around the country flying RC planes, later getting a camper, etc. The single life was fun after nearly 27 years of the ball and chain, and there was too much water under the bridge for Phill to go back.

Meanwhile, while my husband was having his 2nd childhood, I was investigating many of the lies Emma had told us the past few years, which was pretty near everything that came out of Emma’s mouth. A friend of mine, who was also a victim of Emma’s lies, put it quite simply:

Emma lied pretty much about everyone and everything.

She lied about the priest and being molested.

She lied about Phill, but you wouldn’t have it, so she started lying about you.

Phill was too weak to stand up to Emma, so she got her way.

The End.

That sums it up pretty well.

Of course, believing in my husband, I thought he would come to his senses once I uncovered so many of Emma’s lies, but Phill, being somewhat passive and non-confrontational, couldn’t deal with the truth, so he let Emma continue her lies. That’s my biggest disappointment in this whole thing. I know Emma is a hot mess. She was lying about so many things that I’m not sure she knows how to tell the truth, but Phill……………… I thought my husband was a better man. I always thought he would do the right thing. I always thought he would fight for his wife and for his family. I was wrong. It made Phill too uncomfortable to face the truth, so he just let Emma keep going. Add to that the fun of being single, traveling the country flying toy airplanes and drinking beer, and what more could a fellow want?

I don’t know enough about Emma’s issues to know if we could have helped her. If we’d gotten her some real therapy to face her lying issues, could we have helped her? I don’t know, and it’s probably too late now. Tyler will have to be the man that Emma’s dad wasn’t able to be.

Overall, Phill loved being married. When I would go away from home which wasn’t often, but when I did, the longer I was away, the harder it was to get off the phone with Phill. I would call him everyday, and we would talk, but the longer I was gone, the more he would talk and not let me hang up. It was very sweet and cute and only mildly annoying when I really had to get going because we were going out or something. Phill didn’t like being alone, and I knew, even with his talk about being “soulmates” that I would be easily replaced. Phill is easy-going and if you can hold a conversation, cook for him, and sleep with him, that would be pretty much all he requires. He is pretty easy to please. I had no doubt that Phill would re-marry. He doesn’t like being alone, and he’s really not picky, so if he’s not re-married already, he will be, and I’ll write down a few words of advice for Kim Chassion and Sydney Chassion at some point.

I knew Phill was a lot smarter than me, and would come out ahead in the divorce. Having recently bought a home, I had very little when I moved in, and Phill rented a storage unit and threw my things in there, in his passive aggressive way, and I went over and got a few things, and then had enough and quit. It is just some personal items, mostly books and diaries, things like that. After all, Phill has to make room for Kim Chassion’s things in my home.

Phill wouldn’t let me have anything I could actually use like furniture, dishes, linens, cookware… I’ve been buying used furniture for my home, and slowly acquiring things. I have to laugh when I think of all the little things I need like a garden hose, a rolling pin, baking sheets, etc. You don’t realize how many little things you have until you have no access to them. Phill won at the divorce, no doubt about that, but that’s ok. I’ve started over, and I’ll keep working on it. Phill may have all our things, and I hope Kim enjoys the desk he got me for my birthday, and my office chair, and that they enjoy wine out of the wine glasses Emma and Phill got me for my birthday one year, oh and that lamp on the nightstand on Kim’s side of the bed, that was a birthday gift one year, too. And when they walk out in the back yard and smell the wonderful gardenia bush and the roses out back, those were mother’s day gifts. And the little circle of bricks, down below the deck. That’s where three of my very special dogs were buried, so please take care of that place and keep flowers growing in there.

So, Emma, on April 14th 2011, when we went to see Suzie McGarvey for your therapy session and then for our family session was when you convinced Suzie McGarvey that you had to be separated from your mom. (Horrors! You were so abused!) Daddy and I had been married 26 years, 9 months, and 14 days. This was when Daddy really turned against me, even thought he didn’t throw me out until April 7th. That means if you and Tyler can stay married until June 29th, 2042, you will have outlasted your parent’s marriage. That would really be sticking it to your mom, wouldn’t it? Good luck with that! If you want to count up to April 7th, that makes it 26 years, 10 months, and 8 days, so you can do the math on that one. Ohmigoodness, Tyler, I’m so sorry you got dragged into this family, but I did try to warn you.

So, from a lying, manipulative 17 year old, to a husband in his 2nd childhood, my marriage didn’t stand a chance. My husband was too weak to stand up to his daughter, and when you let a 17 year old take over the family, well, it’s not a good thing.

 

To be Transformed

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

motherpin

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.

Collateral

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

 

 

Childhood Lies and the Fire Alarm

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. 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.

 

After my last post about Pretty Little Liars, I got to thinking a lot about Emma’s childhood lies. Should Phill and I have caught on that Emma had a problem? Did we miss the signs that Emma had a problem telling the truth? We didn’t have another child to compare Emma to, but maybe if we had, would we have noticed that Emma lied more than most children?

One of the lies I that stuck in my mind after that last “Pretty Little Liars” post was the story about the fire drill. We were at Master’s Academy, the homeschool arts program where Emma took classes on Fridays, and I worked, at first just to pay for Emma’s tuition, but later, because kids were interested in my classes, and I found that I loved teaching the kids. (Masters Academy took place at Hebron Baptist Church, Dacula, Ga. Later on, the arts program became Dacula Classical Academy.)

Emma was in 6th or 7th grade, and was taking a dance class. I don’t even remember what class I was in, but there was a fire alarm, and we had to take the kids outside. Afterwards, on the drive home, Emma told me what I think was an Emma Tale, about how one of the girls in the class, Rachel M. had “accidentally” pulled the fire alarm. How do you accidentally pull a fire alarm? Don’t they have a little glass bar that has to break to sound the alarm? Silly me, I had just assumed that the fire drill was a routine event that occurred every once in a while. Since we were like a school at the church, it would make sense to have fire drills, like we had in school when we were kids.

I questioned Emma, because the story just didn’t sound right, but she went on about how Rachel was dancing around and somehow grabbed the fire alarm and set it off.

I had been an aide in some classes with Rachel, and I know I had her in at least one of my classes, and also Rachel’s little sister. Both girls were very sweet, quiet, kind, polite, helpful, good workers, and well behaved. They never caused any kind of trouble, never brought any attention to themselves, and had Rachel “accidentally” pulled the fire alarm, she would have been MORTIFIED, and according to Emma, that’s what happened. Poor Rachel was so embarrassed that she had pulled the fire alarm, she had to hide and couldn’t face anyone. Emma went into great detail about how embarrassed Rachel was over “accidentally” pulling the fire alarm.

masters-dance

Emma and a friend from a dance class at Master’s Academy

A lot of Emma’s childhood lies have caused me to think and wonder if Phill and I could have done anything different. So many times, I couldn’t prove Emma was lying, so I just let her tell her stories and didn’t go out and verify that she was lying. Being a “not my child” kind of mom, of course I didn’t want to believe my child had trouble telling the truth. All children lie, right? When does lying become a problem? Is Emma’s lying my fault (everything in Emma’s life is my fault, so I guess I need to take credit for this too) because I didn’t establish a “No Lying” policy in the house to get Emma on the straight an narrow?

Kids like for attention, to individuate, to get out of trouble, to establish their identity, etc. Kids learn to tell white lies, so as not to hurt someone’s feelings, just like they see adults do. There were times I felt like Emma’s lies came from an active imagination, and again, I assumed lying was a normal part of childhood. During Emma’s teen years, I learned that Emma would say whatever she needed to say to get what she wanted. She would tell me she put her clothes away, when she crammed them under her dresser or threw them on her closet floor because I’d told her to put her clothes away before we were going to do something or go somewhere. Again, I thought this was just typical kid behavior. Did I miss something?

It will be interesting to see where my prodigal daughter goes in life. Is it too later for her to have a normal life. Will she continue to lie her way through life? Is it now such a part of her that there’s no turning back? I also have to wonder about Tyler and if he’s caught on to Emma yet. Living with her on a daily basis, even blinded by love, I think sooner or later he will figure it out.

A Question of Timing

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

A Question of Timing

I’ve been reading a lot about liars and lying, and I probably have several posts I can write about that topic as it relates to Emma, but something that’s been on my mind lately was Emma’s timing.

The first time Emma accused me of physical abuse (Dec. 2010), it was to cover up the lies about her friend “Lacey” who was not raped and did not attempt suicide. Since Emma claimed “Lacey’s” rape brought up her repressed memories of being molested when she was 12, how could Emma’s own allegations be true if the stories about “Lacey” were NOT true. We had some attorneys who were willing to sue on Emma’s behalf, and they were about to file the lawsuit. I can only imagine the panic Emma must have felt as a just turned 17 year old, about to be caught in a whopper of a lie. Everyone would know that her claims of being sexually molested by a priest were lies! Emma had to stop the law suit, so she found a way to take the focus off her stories with a new story. Now poor Emma wasn’t just the victim of sexual abuse by a priest, but she was also the vicim of physical abused by her mother! What drama!

Ok, so that is not the part I am thinking about at this point. That was really just a brief update for my new readers who might not have read a lot of Emma’s story yet.

In March of 2011, Emma was in school at Jefferson High School, Jefferson Ga., and we were cruising along in therapyland. We took Emma to weekly appointments with Suzie McGarvey ( Lanier Counseling, North Gwinnett Counseling Associates) and had family therapy sessions. Emma also had several DFACS therapists who met with her. At that time, she really didn’t have any friends, other than “Lacey” whom she texted and e-mailed and called her “best friend” although the two girls had never met. It was kind of like we were paying therapists to act in the place of Emma’s friends.

Phill and I had met with Suzie a few times privately as well, and when Emma found out about this, she was furious. She yelled at me and claimed we were going to meet with Suzie to “talk bad” about her. To add to her fury, Emma was upset when she found out Phill and I had gone out to IHOP to eat after a session. Apparently we weren’t allowed to eat out without our daughter. How dare we cheat her out of her funny face pancakes! (Come on, Emma. It’s not like we were going to The Melting Pot or something.)

It was March 14th, 2011 when we met with Suzie McGarvey and she told me that Emma and I would have to be separated because Emma claimed I still abused her and she wanted to go live in a group home.

Something else going on at this time was that Phill was getting ready for SEFF Week (Southeast Electric Fly off) in Americus, Ga. He would go down and spend a week playing with RC planes and hanging out with his flying buddies. Emma had been going to SEFF since she was 12. She worked as the administrative assistant to the director Jeff Meyers and later Matt Klos’ (the father-in-law of Phill’s newest attorney, Bradley D. Moody, the associate part of Lee Sexton and Associates, Stockbridge, Ga.) She got paid for the week, and she loved the money she made. She worked hard and did a great job. We were always proud of how our sometimes typical nasty teenager could turn into a mature young lady who took her position seriously. Emma also liked the prestige of being the director’s right hand girl, and Jeff Meyers said some really nice things about how hard she worked. She got to boss around the vendors and tell them where to set up. Everyone knew Emma and she was known as the “go-to” girl. She worked at SEFF every year right up until 2015, until she got married.

emmajeffmeyers

Emma made a nice chunk of change and enjoyed working at SEFF week as Jeff Meyers’ assistant.  (And then later under Matt Klos)

I had never been to SEFF because SEFF week always conflicted with my end of the year program at the homeschool arts program where I worked part time, and it was always a busy week for me. Also, Emma and I spent so much time together all year and Phill was on the road so much with UPS, that I liked the idea of her having this week with Daddy and it being “their” annual thing together. Phill was always a little jealous of my relationship with Emma, so I was really glad for them to have this mommy-free time with just the two of them. After homeschooling and being busy with the end of the year program at my job, I usually enjoyed the first 2-3 of days of a quiet house to myself.

We had 3 dogs at home, so getting away wasn’t easy and Phill and Emma always sounded so busy that I wasn’t sure what I would do there, but Phill had been after me to go, so I was planning on going to Americus Ga. For SEFF in 2010. My school program ended on a Thursday night, so I could go down on Fri. and then we would all come home on Sunday.

Being somewhat an introvert and not knowing anyone at SEFF (I’d met a few of the people when I went out to watch Phill fly with the local RC groups, but I didn’t really know them.), I was a little nervous about driving down to Americus and hanging out with Phill and all his buddies. From what I heard, there was flying during the day and then a lot of sitting around, drinking and gabbing in the evening.

After hearing about what a great job Emma did at SEFF, I was really looking forward to seeing her in action. It sounded like she was kept pretty busy with all that had to be done, and I would get to see just what her job entailed after hearing so much about it. It was one of those things where you feel like all your hard work as a parent gets paid off, that you might get a glimpse of the adult your child is going to become.

Well, everything came to a screeching halt when Emma again accused me of abuse. I never even found out what I was actuall accused of that time. Suzie McGarvey just said that Emma claimed the abuse was still going on, but never told me anything specific. (Great job, Suzie! Just let your clients say whatever they want and don’t call them on it! As long as they pay and keep comint to therapy, they can say whatever they want, right?) I guess I should have pushed for that information, but at the time I was so distraught and shocked that Emma was pulling this stunt again that I just didn’t think of it. (Later, I did find out about Emma’s famous bruised arm, which written in another post so I’m not going to write it again here.) A couple of weeks later, my loving husband would want to know every detail of my schedule so he could have a sheriff’s deputy remove me from my home while he was out.

Of course, Phill wasn’t going to mess SEFF Week, so while his family was falling apart, he went down to Americus, Ga. To fly airplanes, hang out with all his new RC buds and drink beer. To be honest, I don’t even know if he took Emma that year or left her with Judy and John Hall, our neighbors who kept Emma when she couldn’t stay home with her abusive mother. She was in school at the time, and had missed so much, she should have been home and going to school, but Phill had his priorities and SEFF Week was more important than his family or his daughter’s school attendance

A year or so later, I was to hear from a few of Phill’s SEFF Week friends, whose names will be witheld from the blog. I got to hear some of the stories Emma told down at SEFF, including the one about me poisoning Emma with DDT and Emma claiming to have the toxicology report as proof.

I have to wonder, did Emma choose that time to once again accuse me of abusing her to stop me from going to SEFF Week? Was she afraid if I went down there and met people she’d been telling lies to that she would be exposed? She could trash talk her mom, but if people actually me her mom, they might find out she wasn’t this ogre that Emma described. Oh, no! Emma’s mom going to SEFF Week could ruin everything for her! Is this why Emma chose that particular time to cry abuse yet again? Only Emma knows her motives, and for now they are a mystery, but I have figured out a few things, and I may be on the right trail with my guess about this one.

Coming up next…………………….I think I’ll write about my latest experience with Denial Daddy.  Everyone needs a superpower!