A Question of Timing

Posted on November 4, 2016 by losingemma

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 14^th, 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!

For Emma: Your Grandma Harriett

Posted on July 17, 2016 by losingemma

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love,

Mom

A Letter From My Husband (Moved)

Posted on June 21, 2016 by losingemma

Note: I moved this post and re-titled it: Bradley D. Moody, Attorney at Law because I was working on some posts for Emma, and Mr. Moody’s poor timing, messed up the order in which I was doing things.

Trifecta Part 2, Daddy’s Family (Part 1)

Posted on May 31, 2016 by losingemma

Emma Katherine Roey

Daddy’s Family

Emma, I’m writing a couple of these posts to you, and then I will get back to writing about you. I would much rather write to you privately, but since I don’t want to be threatened with a restraining order, I will have to do it here. I had hoped, when you grew up, we could discuss these things and you could learn from my mistakes. I don’t want to trash your dad’s family, but I will tell you how things were from my perspective and from what your dad told me. I think you know about a lot of the “scandals” so I’m not going into the details on those.

By now, I think you’ve realized that every family is dysfunctional. You know about my family life because we discussed it, but I don’t think your dad ever really discussed his with you. I can only tell you what he told me and what I saw for myself. I hope that learning about your family helps you figure out who you are, and by learning about your dad’s family, you will understand why your dad couldn’t face what you did, how he doesn’t like to argue or confront anyone, or do anything difficult.

Your dad grew up in a pretty tumultuous household. He always said he didn’t like to argue because all the fighting in his home growing up made him literally sick to his stomach and he hated arguing. Even after your dad and I had been married for years he claimed he didn’t like to argue because he would still get sick to his stomach. And you know your dad and I could have a disagreement or an argument, and we still loved each other. By now, you’ve been married long enough to know you are going to have arguments with someone you live with so closely.

Daddy’s parents were divorced when he was a toddler, and fortunately they got along amicably. Your grandfather was very easy going and passive, so your grandmother kind of ran things, including his life. It was kind of funny when they came to visit. Everyone always thought it was so strange that your grandmother traveled with her ex-husband and her current boyfriend.

Your grandmother had two divorces and many boyfriends, according to your dad. The first marriage was very brief, and the second marriage sounded pretty bad right from the start, and there was a lot of fighting then. Your grandmother had quite a temper and could swear like a sailor, but she was a hard worker, very generous, and could be very loving and kind. It sounded to me like your grandmother was one of those people who didn’t feel validated without a man. When your dad was growing up, if she didn’t have a husband, she went from one boyfriend to the next. She was a real people person, if you saw her at the restaurant, and she chatted with everyone, was very friendly, and made her customers feel special. There were several male customers who paid a lot of attention to her. After your dad and I were married, even though she had a boyfriend, there was a man named Pat who hung around the restaurant a lot at the end of the day because he was very fond of your grandmother. I thought this was a little odd because he was married, and your dad mentioned that it had upset Kenny (her then boyfriend). For a while, Kenny wasn’t allowed to go up to the restaurant because he got too jealous of the men that paid attention to your grandmother. Your dad also told me that Pat at one time gave your grandmother the key to his safety deposit box that had something like $100,000.00 in it and it would all be hers if she married him or something like that.

Because your grandmother had to work as a waitress, your dad and his uncle were raised by their grandmother, Stella, until they got old enough that they were home alone. They were pretty young when they started staying home alone, but this was a different time. Your great grandma, Stella is another story, and I will tell you about her later.

Growing up, Daddy, as the older brother was expected to be the peacemaker and give in to his little brother. You dad described your uncle A. and a child who would hold his breath until he passed out or pitch a big fit if he didn’t get his way. To get things calm, Daddy always had to be the one to give in and do whatever little brother wanted.

When your dad and I were dating, your dad and Uncle A were roommates for a while after your dad’s roommates had gotten married, and your Uncle’s roommates had graduated college and moved on. Your uncle got a free apartment for being a police officer, and agreeing to handle calls, sort of like he was the apartment security when he was home. When your dad was home, he had to answer the calls.

Also, since your uncle got the free apartment, your dad had to pay for the utilities, which didn’t seem quite fair since your dad acted as security when your uncle wasn’t there. One time when I was over, your uncle pointed out that a certain cat food was on sale, and when your dad said that the cat was your uncle’s cat and not his, your uncle said that since he lived there, he should pay for part of the cat food.

A few times, your uncle went to a movie with your dad and I, and he would always ask your dad, “Aren’t you going to get some popcorn.” So that he could have some without having to buy it.

One time, your dad and I had been out on a Sunday and he was having car trouble. Daddy had to get up very early to be at UPS (his part time job before he became a driver) and he asked your uncle to borrow some tools to work on his car, and your uncle refused. They argued, and Daddy was upset and went to his room. Then your uncle wrote out a note and told me to deliver it to your dad. I can’t remember word for word what the note said, but it was something about telling your dad he needed to admit that he should have worked on his car earlier instead of waiting until the last minute and to apologize. It was so crazy and stupid to me, but your dad did what he had to do to borrow the tools, and he got the car running and made it to work .

After your dad and I were married, and after your cousin had been born, your uncle was too cheap to pay for trash pickup at the house, and he would take his trash to the police station and throw it out there. Your grandparents came down, and I guess Uncle A. had taken some time off work, and hadn’t taken his trash to work. They all came over to our house, and I will never forget your uncle opening up the trunk of his big old care and pulling out 17 large garbage bags and saying, “Here Phill, I thought you could put this out when you put your trash out.” I was pretty angry at the gall, but said nothing. Had your uncle asked us before hand, I don’t think I would have minded at all, but to just bring all that trash over to our house and not even say, “Would you mind…….!”

I had witnessed the way your uncle treated your dad for so long that I never much cared for your uncle. Your dad always thought he was the better looking brother who always got the girls, etc., but I always thought your dad was such a much more decent person than your uncle. They were very competitive. Once, before we were married, I went hiking with your dad, Uncle A., and a friend of your dad’s. It turned into a race up to Amicolola, which I have to say was one of the worst dates ever. Of course I tried, but couldn’t keep up with the three of them, and I when I hike or walk I want to enjoy the scenery, look at things, etc. It was not my idea of fun at all.

The one thing your dad did that was kind of funny, after we were married, was that every time we were around Uncle A., when we hadn’t seen him in a while, your dad would always find a reason to walk around behind your uncle when he was sitting down so that he could check our his hair loss. As your know, your grandfather was pretty bald, and I figured both the boys would head that way eventually, but your dad had a lot more hair than Uncle A., and I guess that was the one thing he felt superior about.

I’ve heard that your dad and Uncle A. get along better now, but in all the years we were married, there was only one brief time that they got along well, and that was when A.’s first wife threw him out and his mistress had married the father of her child, and was no longer available. A. was pretty sad and lonely and came over to see us some. We hung out, went to movies, went bowling and such. We introduced your uncle to a friend of ours and they became a couple right away, practically living together. She fell in love with him, and with his little girl. I much regretted introducing them when later, your Aunt K. dumped her husband and called Uncle A. Your uncle immediately dropped our friend with no explanation. She called my crying, with no clue as to why your uncle did not return her calls. It was horrible, and I was so sorry for even being a part of it.

Except for this brief spell of niceness, your uncle was always rude and condescending to your dad, and I didn’t have much use for him. I loved your dad and your dad was such a good person, that I hated seeing him treated this way by his own brother.

Shortly before you pulled all your “my mother is abusing me” stuff, your dad and I had talked about getting together with your dad and his family. We hadn’t seen the girls in several years, and I think we were ready to try and have a relationship with your uncle’s family again. Your dad and I were talking and your dad still had some anger towards his brother when he told me, “He cheated on every girlfriend he ever had, he cheated on his first wife, and I no doubt he’s probably cheated on K. (second wife) too.” That kind of surprised me.

I know you know the problems that were going on with your cousins, and to be honest, your dad and I weren’t sure we wanted you around them. Of course now, it sounds as if all three girls have grown up and gotten themselves together. Little did I know that you would be the one whose problems made theirs pale in comparison.

To be continued…

Trifecta Part 1, A Midlife Crisis

Posted on May 21, 2016 by losingemma

Trifecta

This post is really for Emma, so I am writing to her.

Emma, BTW, I heard again from someone in Santa Rosa, CA who was looking for you. You might want to let everyone know where you are. Oh, Emma, Emma, Emma how many times did I tell you, if you are hiding what you’re doing, then maybe it’s something you shouldn’t be doing.

I haven’t wanted to write about your dad or your dad’s family, but since we can’t talk, and even your dad can’t talk about what you did, I will write it here. Today, I will tell you about your dad’s midlife crisis.

I have to admit, I was really disappointed in your dad. I always had too much faith in your dad. I’d always thought he would do anything to take care of us. Well, I was half right. I thought when he realized your friend was never raped, never attempted suicide, her mother was never dying of breast cancer, you never babysat for the neighbors down the street although you made up some great stories. You never babysat for our former priest and never had to call 911 on his bipolar son, and you were never molested by another priest……………… I really thought your dad would apologize and want to get to the bottom of your problems. And later on, I found out you were telling people that Tyler’s mom, Sherry Knopp Buchheim was afraid I would show up in Liberty Township, Ohio and kill her whole family and that I poisoned you with DDT and you had the toxicology report to prove it, I e-mailed your dad, but he just couldn’t deal with it. He e-mailed back that he refused to discuss you with me. I was kind of shocked when he just ignored everything you did. I was hurt too. I always believed in your dad, and believed he would do what’s right, even if it took him a while to realize how wrong he was. He always called himself a “secular humanist” and he didn’t have any need for religion. He wasn’t quite an atheist, but more agnostic. He wasn’t quite convinced about the whole God thing, but he thought of himself as a good person, and he was. Well, he was until things got difficult. Part of it was that your dad was going through a midlife crisis and part of it was your dad’s upbringing, and I will tell you about both of these. Your dad just doesn’t like difficult stuff and just chooses not to handle things.

Emma, I don’t blame you for the divorce, or at least not all of it. You were just a part of it. So many people joked about my daughter being “the other woman” and you really were. I was the one who stuck up for your dad when you made fun of him when he wasn’t around. I was the one who reminded you how hard he worked so we could have a nice home and nice things and you could do all the activities you were involved in. You thought your dad was stupid because he didn’t finish college. You made fun of him for being a truck driver, but he made a good living working for UPS. Something you didn’t think I noticed was how jealous you were of the way Daddy treated me, like when he brought me my coffee in the mornings. I remember how when Daddy would see a book by my favorite author at Costco and bring it home, you almost couldn’t stand it. You looked at me like I was something evil, even though you read my books too! I never realized my own daughter was jealous of the relationship between my husband and myself. It was like you couldn’t stand for me to get the attention or the little gifts. Then, after I was thrown out of my home, you became the little woman, doing the shopping, loading the dishwasher, taking care of the pets. I saw your posts on facebook before you removed me. You took over as the woman of the house. I guess that was your practice marriage.

Emma, remember when we’d get the $10 JCPenney coupons in the mail. We always let you have them and took you to buy something with them, but the one time I said I was going to use one because I could use something decent to wear to my job at the homeschool arts program, you go furious with me. I don’t know what we did that you turned out to be so selfish and vicious, and I know it wasn’t just me. I wondered if part of the reason you talked so badly about the girls you rode the bus with was because you were jealous of them. Maybe you were too insecure at school, so you had to make others look bad. And remember when we had the baby shower for the unmarried daughter of one of our friends at Bible Study? You were so jealous of the gifts and attention she got for doing something you considered shameful. I tried to talk to you about how she was a lucky girl to have a family that supported her because she was traveling down a difficult road. You couldn’t see it that way at all. You just thought she didn’t deserve a shower for having a baby and not being married. Well, I digress. I really wanted to write about your dad’s midlife crisis, so let me get back to that. I just keep hoping you will get your life turned around Emma, but I know it’s not going to happen. Some people live their whole lives a lie, and I’m afraid that’s where you are headed.

Your dad couldn’t face what you did and still can’t. It was easier to throw his wife out than to face the truth about his daughter. After all, blood is thicker than water. And also, your dad comes from a family with a high divorce rate. Even though he made a marriage vow, and he vowed to get counseling or help if we were every at the point of divorce, your dad just couldn’t do it. It was easier to walk away. When your uncle cheated on his first wife, your grandmother, who has been divorced twice, just wanted her son to be happy, while your grandfather told your uncle that he had an obligation to his family. At the time, I did wish your grandfather was still living because I don’t believe he would have fallen for all your drama and he would have talked some sense into your dad.

Your dad always joked about how lucky I was that his midlife crisis was RC planes. It’s kind of funny because your dad was always the one who talked about “self-fulfilling prophecies” too. Since I was a worrier, can’t help it, it’s just my nature, your dad would always tell me if you worry enough about something happening it probably will.

About a month before all the drama at Suzie McGravey’s office, where you wanted to go live in a group home, Daddy was working on a friend’s computer and talking about our plans for retirement, how he wanted to get a camper or an RV and we planned on doing some traveling, and of course because he was all into the RC planes, we would be going to a lot of RC shows. So yes, at this point in my life I thought your dad and I would be retired, or close to it, and you would be out of the house, and we’d be doing some traveling. You never know what life is going to throw at you, do you? Anyway, this friend, who yes, knew you, was so shocked that all of a sudden your dad wanted a divorce and that he was letting you manipulate him so. All of a sudden, according to your dad, there was “too much water under the bridge.” How do you go from talking about retiring with your wife one month, and then the next month wanting a divorce?

Daddy really had all the classic signs of a midlife crisis. Everything was RC planes, and I heard that a year or so later he bragged about taking almost 100 planes to SEFF, but when we were married, he had maybe a dozen planes. That is some major money he spent for planes and motors. That gets pretty expensive.

What was also a shock was that our family was going through a major crisis, and yet Daddy took off every chance he could to go to RC shows for days at a time: SEFF, Joe Nall, and I don’t remember where the one was he went to up north (Midwest) was. What kind of man goes traveling the country when his family is in crisis? Our poor, supposedly “sexually abused” daughter was left home alone or with the neighbors or dragged around the country to RC shows? What kind of man does that?

Another classic sign of a midlife crisis was the camper. A lot of men go out and buy a sports car, but your dad spent $23,000 on a camper as well as all the RC planes? Again, he sure wasn’t hurting for money. Maybe I should have hired a forensic accountant like one friend wanted to do. I don’t know where Daddy came up with all this money but then, I was just the dumb housewife who let my husband handle all the money. Let that be a lesson to you! Don’t let Tyler handle all the money. Remember how I was trying to get daddy to teach me how to do the on line banking and he was so reluctant to do so? I was more worried about if something happened to him that I wouldn’t know how to pay the bills. I didn’t even know how much money we had in the bank.

Daddy had always been an introvert, like me. We were always happy at homes, doing things together or near each other like when he would work on airplanes upstairs and I would work on my glass stuff. I had looked forward to more of these times when you left home, but that was not to be. BTW, what did you do with my glass studio?

Once Daddy discovered his RC friends, he really came out of his shell. He found a crowd he fit into. He became a big fish in a small pond. He became one of the “cool kids” and wanted to hang out with them and fly planes and sit around at night and drink beer. He no longer needed a homebody wife who fostered dogs and spent Saturdays at adoptions. That wasn’t going to fit into his new life. We never talked about it, but I figured I would quit fostering, or maybe foster a small dog that we could take with us in the future camper. I supposed a lot of this is my fault because I was the one who encouraged Daddy to get back into his childhood hobby of RC planes.

Daddy was always freaked out about the idea of menopause. Even when you were just a little thing, Daddy worried about it. He often brought up that you would be going starting your cycle around the same time I would hit menopause. I just made a joke about it, but he brought it up so often, I should have realized he was having a problem. Then, when I had the hysterectomy, Daddy freaked out that I was going to become a crazed mad woman. Actually, the hysterectomy had the opposite effect of what your dad was afraid of. My hormones were so messed up because of the fibroids and cysts, that I felt so much better afterwards and wished I done it 10 years earlier.

Funny how your dad called me your “sexless parental unit.” I’ve met several other women who went through divorces because their husbands were so freaked out about menopause. All of a sudden, these men realize they are getting old. Well, they don’t think they are, but they think their wives are, so they dump them. I’ve also heard stories from the adult children of parents who divorced because their dad’s freaked over menopause. It’s really not that uncommon.

Your Aunt Chatty Kathy used to talk about the “burnt cookies” divorce, which was really the same kind of thing. She described it as how one partner in the marriage freaked out and basically said, “You burned the cookies! Oh my God, I want a divorce!” All of a sudden everything that was ever wrong in your life is the fault of your spouse. You can ask her about it, but it was how your dad acted too. He couldn’t handle our family crisis, so OMG, let’s get a divorce.

I will never forget some of the things your dad said to me. When I was over at your “Aunt Janice’s” and he came over and brought me some things, we were arguing, I don’t remember about what. He was going to leave, and he put his arms around me and told me he loved me, but “I’ve put up with a lot.” Really? Isn’t that what married people do? Was your dad so perfect that I didn’t put up with anything? No, I put up with a lot, too, but I loved your dad and part of loving someone is putting up with their faults. Hopefully, you and Tyler have been married long enough now to realize that it’s not all puppies and rainbows. Tyler has his faults, and you have some of your own.

Well, Emma, I think I’ve pretty much covered your dad’s midlife crisis. At the time, I didn’t realize what it was, but after a little distance, it was easy to see Daddy had so many of the classic signs. Even through all of it, I thought your dad would eventually get himself together and do what’s right. He knows he messed up, but daddy cares too much about what people think of him to admit it. He’s just not strong enough to face his friends, family, and neighbors after all that he did and let you get away with. He’d rather go on living the lie.

And speaking of that, there is so much your dad owes me. (Oh dear, do I sound like you Emma? You had me, you owe me? You married me, you owe me?) No, your dad knows what he did wrong and what he took from me. He owes me a furnished home, a fenced yard, etc. Funny how we were updating the house with a new fridge, new dishwasher, the counters, the floor, and the new shelves on the sunporch. Daddy owes me a furnished house. All the little things like cookware and cutlery, linens, a bed, appliances, etc. I could use a couple of ceiling fans, so be a dear and ask Daddy to put them in for me. He’s got my number. Oh, and a funny story about that, when I asked Daddy for the stand-up fan, he brought me the industrial fan! I know you haven’t been in my house, but daddy has. It’s about 900 square feet and that fan was way too much for this house. I ended up giving it away. I used to joke about Daddy’s passive-aggressive streak, and there it was!

Here’s a photo of the sun porch that we’d just spent about $2500 on new shelves for:

Ikea1a

I’m sure by now Daddy got the flatscreen tv he wanted for that bare spot, even though he wouldn’t let me have the old giant monster tv that was sitting in the garage.

And here is the $10 bookshelf, leftover from homeschooling, that was out in the garage to get rid of that Daddy gave me when he had me thrown out of my home:

bookshelf

Your dad sure made out like a bandit from the divorce, didn’t he? Well, after what my attorney told me, there was no way I was going to go near the house, and Daddy was certainly not going to divide up the household fairly or bring me my things, although he did bring me a few things at first. I will write more about that part of the divorce later on.

So, Emma are you out of school for the summer? Are you working? And what about Tyler? Is he going to school for his Master’s or did he start working? I’ve always heard you need a master’s in architecture to really do anything, but I don’t know much about it.

In my next post, I’ll tell you about your dad’s family and his upbringing and you will understand a little better why your dad can’t handle a confrontation or face the hard stuff. You’ve heard all about my family, and by now you may have realized that every family has it’s on kind of dysfunction. Ours did too, but we had a lot of love and I always thought that would see us through. Wrong again. When I tell you a little about your dad’s family and his upbringing, you will be able to understand why your dad is the way he is.

So long for now, Emma. Love you.

Emma and the English Teacher (completed5/01/16)

Posted on April 19, 2016 by losingemma

Emma and the English Teacher (Jefferson High School, Jefferson, Ga.)

After doing (and not doing) 10th grade on line, Emma attended Jefferson High School 2010-2011 as a junior. To be fair to Emma, she missed the first week of school because we’d had a trip planned with my sister before we knew when school started. I gave Emma the choice, and of course she wanted to go on the trip, and Phill and I felt, remembering our own school days, that she wouldn’t miss much the first week and could easily get caught up. We also talked to the school about Emma missing her first week, and we assured that it was not an issue. Looking back now, with Emma starting at a new school, that was probably a bad decision, and as her mother, I am to blame for everything, at least according to Emma.

The two classes I thought Emma would like best turned out to be the classes she hated most. Emma took Drama with a teacher named Roger Bright. Mr. Bright’s claim to fame was a small role in the television series “Christy” in 1994-1995. Unlike Bonnie Roberts’ class, at Jackson County Comprehensive High School (JCCHS), Emma was not the star student, but was just another student, one of many. She didn’t get any special treatment, didn’t even get a part in the play, and she hated Mr. Bright.

According to Emma, there were moms who did all kinds of things for Mr. Bright, including babysitting the class while he went off in another room, and did not conduct class, and these were the kids who got the attention and parts in the plays.

The other teacher Emma complained about, even more than Mr. Bright was Janet Schwartz, her English teacher. Mrs. Schwartz was thought of very highly by students, parents, and other teachers. If you go to Ratemyteachers.com, you can read some comments that others have written about Mrs. Schwartz.
Emma came home with stories everyday about Mrs. Schwartz and how unfair she was and how poorly she treated Emma, or maybe, how she treated poor Emma!

I asked Emma to keep a list of her complaints and here are some of them:

On their idiom quiz, Mrs. Schwartz took 10 points off Emma’s grade because she used pencil to write her ansers. She spoke to Mrs. Schwartz after class and asked if she could get half credit because she had not been informed of Mrs. Schwartz’s policies. Mrs. Schwartz told Emma that she was supposed to copy someone’s notes, which she had done, but they did not mention the pens and pencils policy. Mrs. Shwartz told Emma she would under no circumstances reconsider her grade and would take off an additional 5 points for Emma’s “disputing her decision.” Emma said she asked Mrs. Schwartz at both the open hose and on her first day for any material she might have missed, and Mrs. Schwartz did not explain her policies or give her any handouts besides the idioms list and syllabus.

On Aug. 18, 2010, Mrs. Chwartz mentioned a vocabulary quiz that would be on Friday. Emma didn’t know what she was talking about, so she asked the other students who told her that they were given the vocabulary list the first day of school. Emma said she was never given the list, although she’d asked Mrs. Schwartz for hand—outs both on her first day of school and at orientation. She only had two days to learn 60 vocabulary words!

One story that Emma complained to me about, but did not write down, was about their term papers. Mrs. Schwartz put up a list of topic, and Emma knew which topic she wanted. When she asked Mrs. Schwartz for the topic she’d chosen, Mrs. Schwartz told her the topics wouldn’t be assigned until the next day. The next day, Emma asked Mrs. Schwartz if she could sign up for her topic, and Mrs. Schwartz told her she had already given that topic to someone else the day before. (I am interjecting this story here because the next paragraph is about Emma’s term paper.—Emma’s Mom.)

On working on the bibliographies for their term papers that were due that day, Emma brought her bibliography, done in MLA format because that was the format she had previously used in other English classes. Mrs. Schwartz announced that they would be checking each other’s Works Cited sheets according to the guide in their Writer’s Inc. books. Emma saw several of her classmates pull out this books which she had never seen before. Emma told Mrs. Schwartz that she did not have this book, and Mrs. Schwartz issued her one, however she had to re-do her bibliography because she had not told her this in the first place.

When Emma saw Savannah reading Gone with the Wind, she asked what class she was reading it for. Savannah explained that they were supposed to begin reading it at the start of the school year, and they would have a test on it on Sept. 16th, only two weeks away. Emma claimed she knew nothing about this assignment.

Emma discovered she hand an older edition of Writer’s Inc., despite several newer editions being available. It was confusing because when Mrs. Schwartz would cite a page, it was not the same page in Emma’s book. The book also did not discuss how to cite web sources because it had been printed before web sources were common. When Emma asked Mrs. Schwartz about this, she told Emma she should have said something when she issued the book and she would not allow Emma to exchange her book.

Poor Emma! Always the victim.

After school started, I’d encouraged Emma to get involved in any extra circular activities she was interested in. She was in the dram club because there was some rule that if you took drama, you had to be in the drama club, and Emma hated it. No surprise there, since she hated Mr. Bright. I don’t remember Emma’s various complaints, but I remember one story about them playing ball (dodge ball) at drama club. I think Emma tried to make it sound like no drama was going on and it was all a waste of time. As to what really went on, I have no idea.

Some time after the beginning of the school year, Heather Thomspon, the school counselor who’s husband Allen Thompson was one of Emma’s teachers, called me and asked if Emma could stay after school a couple of times a week or so to help in the office. Of course I said it was fine, but I was disappointed that Emma was doing this. I was hoping she’d find something to do with other kids and make some friends, but instead, Emma hung out with Ms. Thompson and complained about her home life, how badly she was treated, how she was afraid to go home to her her horrible mother, etc. By this time, Emma knew the ropes and knew that if she kept making stuff up, by law, her teacher were obligated to report Emma’s horrible home situation to DFACS. She’d learned this well when she told her Physics teacher she’d been molested and DFACS showed up at the door. Poor Emma! She needed to be taken away from her unsafe home environment!

(BTW, Heather Thompson has left Jefferson High School, and started her own little business called Gateway Consultation, College and Career Planning Services. http://www.gatewayconsulation .com in Athens, Ga. She has bleached her hair with the dark roots. It is kind of a very different look from the brown haired young woman with braces that I met at Jefferson High School.)

Heather Thompson was in a quandary! Because Emma was going through major episodes of vomiting with the stress of the church attorney who was investigating her claim of being sexually abused by the priest, Emma missed a lot of school, and I had to go meet with Ms. Thompson one afternoon. I remember sitting in her office, tearfully telling her Emma’s sad story of sexual molestation, dealing with the church, finding an attorney, etc. Ms. Thompson was very sweet and kind and said if Emma wanted to talk to her, she was always welcome to. Boy did Emma want to talk to her! She had someone new to perform for!

I really didn’t find out about what Emma was doing and saying to Ms. Thompson until later, in one of our sessions with Suzie McGarvey (North Gwinnett Counseling Associates) when she stated that poor Heather Thompson was so distraught about what to do about Emma. She didn’t know if she should believe her or call the authorities to have Emma removed from her home or what? Heavens!

I’d spoken to Heather Thompson a couple of times concerning Emma’s complaints about Mrs. Schwartz. It did not sound like Emma was being treated fairly. Heather Thompson decided a meeting would be a good idea. She asked that Phill and I come in, and then she would bring in Mrs. Schwartz and Emma.

Poor Mrs. Schwartz was blindsided. She didn’t understand what the meeting was about. She thought Emma was a wonderful student and had wanted her to try out for some oratory competition that she thought Emma could do really well at.

We brought up Emma’s complaint about her book, and Mrs. Schwartz said of course Emma could exchange the book. Phill and I went to Mrs. Schwartz’s room with her and she showed us around, talked about the class, and of course exchanged Emma’s book.

Phill and I left, very satisfied that we’d stood up for our poor, picked on daughter. Phill said he wondered if Mrs. Schwartz was somewhat senile or had some dementia. She sort of stammered out many of her responses.

NOW, let me tell you what I think really happened. Mrs. Schwartz probably thought Emma was a great student, and was probably really pleased with her progress in class. Emma is a smart girl and worked hard at things she was interested in.

I do think we totally blindsided Mrs. Schwartz. (I kind of know how she feels.) She was having a typical day when she was called into the office in front of the principal, the school counselor, and two irate parents over a student who she was very pleased with. I believe that is why she was thrown off and stammered a bit.

As for Emma’s book, yes, it was out of date and not the same as the others, but I believe Emma never said anything about the book to Mrs. Schwartz. I think Emma wanted to make her parents upset with her story, so she never asked for another book. She brought home the book as well as a classmate’s book, so that she could show her parents that the evil Mrs. Schwartz was trying to make life difficult on Emma by giving her a book that didn’t match up with the other books, so that if she called out a page number, Emma could not find the correct page without doing some hunting.

Oh, and as for the oratory competition that Mrs. Schwartz was so excited about having Emma try out for? Mrs. Schwartz had told us that she and the drama teacher, Mr. Bright, would be working with Emma if she chose to enter the competition. Why, this sound right up Emma’s alley, doesn’t it? She loves drama and performing!

When I’d ask about the competition, Emma kept telling me that Mrs. Schwartz hadn’t announced it yet. I knew this was a lie, but I also knew I wasn’t going to make Emma enter a competition if she didn’t want to. She would do a sorry job and end up wasting everyone’s time if it wasn’t something she wanted to do. I waited and waited and finally asked Emma to e-mail Mrs. Schwartz about the competition. Sure enough, Emma had missed the deadline. Surprise, surprise.

Sometime later, maybe in 2012 or 2013, I had an occasion to meet Mrs. Schwartz and her husband. I did not tell her that I was Emma’s mom. I am now ashamed of the lies I’m sure Emma told about Mrs. Schwartz and that I was stupid enough to believe them. I found Mrs. Schwartz to be an absolutely delightful woman, and saw no signs of dementia or senility. Another good manipulation by my dear daughter. As a homeschooled child, and with her classes in the small homeschool groups, Emma was used to being a star student. Mrs. Schwartz probably treated Emma like every other student, and she didn’t get all the attention she was used to getting. She didn’t make any friends at school, so Emma once again had to be the victim to get attention.

Just Some Thoughts–Lying and Other Things***** (Updated 11/1/15)

Posted on October 27, 2015 by losingemma

One of my favorite photos of Emma on a ride home from N. Ga. She woke up like a sleepy little drunk.

I love the above picture of Emma. Every mother remembers their little ones waking up like a sleepy little drunk. We’d been up to visit a friend in N. Georgia, and Emma crashed in the car on the way home after a busy day. She was so cute when she woke up. You can see she’d had some chocolate at our friend’s house, as some of it was still on her face.

I appreciate your thoughts and e-mails. I have to say to the person who sent me the youtube idea, it’s definitely something that hadn’t occurred to me. I had to laugh when I got the e-mail, but you had some good points and I will give it some thought. I have just been very busy this past month, and haven’t had time to sit down and write, but thank you for your concern. I am by no means finished.

And a note to Emma: Yes, you and your dad were my life, but believe it or not, I’ve managed to go on with my life without you. I still love and miss you, and will continue to think of you and pray for you everyday. Sometimes, I do something fun, and wish you were here to share the experience or I could call you and tell you about it. Sometimes I read a book and think you would like it, or a movie, etc., etc., etc. Sometimes I think, “Wow, Emma would probably like me now.” if you can ever forgive me for the sin of just being your mother. Sorry I wasn’t the one you wanted.

As for Mr. and Mrs. Emma, I will get to that later. As you know, marriage records are public, but I am still looking into some things, so not ready to write about that just yet. I have a lot of Emma’s back story to get to.

Something that I’ve been wondering about lately is lying and children. Are there some signs that Phill and I missed when Emma was little? Every child lies, so I never thought any of Emma’s stories, even the doozies were abnormal.

One story that’s been on my mind is a story about a girl named Coral whom Emma knew from church. The girls were about 3 years apart and I believe when met Coral and her family when she was in kindergarten and Emma must have been in 3rd grade or so. Later on, when Coral was in middle school, Emma liked Coral, and called her her “little sister,” but it did not start out that way. Coral liked Emma right away and wanted to sit with us at church, follow Emma around, etc. Emma did not like Coral, and since they weren’t in the same Sunday school class or the same activities, she didn’t have to see her much, and since she wasn’t exactly nice to Coral, Coral made other friends and was just fine.

Emma was in the Children’s Choir at church, and once Coral hit 2nd grade, she joined the choir, too. Emma complained frequently about Coral, and I did the usual, “Just be nice……” kind of mom-speak. One day, after choir, Emma told story after story about Coral. I can’t even remember most of them now, but I wonder what Emma was trying to do, keep trying out stories until I fell for one? Kind of like politicians who keep spreading stories about their opponents/enemies until people hear it so much, they just go along with it. Emma’s stories about Coral were so silly and unbelievable, I immediately told her that what she said sounded crazy and I was sure it wasn’t true, and I didn’t give it much thought afterwards. The one story I do remember was that Emma was all indignant and claimed that Mr. Richard, the choir director, paid Coral $20 for behaving during choir, and that wasn’t fair! I may be the dumb mom, but I was pretty sure this wasn’t true. I argued with Emma, and she kept telling me that it was true. I said there was no way Mr. Richard would pay someone to behave during choir. I was sure if there was that much of a problem, he would talk to the parents and/or ask the child to leave the choir. The only thing I could think of, I suggested to Emma, “Maybe he bought some girl scout cookies or something and owed Coral some money for that.” and then I let the argument drop and didn’t discuss it anymore. Emma kept going on about it on the ride home, and I just told her I didn’t believe that. It was such a silly story, I certainly wasn’t going to ask Mr. Richard or Coral’s mother about it, but maybe I should have and perhaps that would have stopped Emma in her tracks. I just let it go.

Emma did something similar involving her friend Rob. Phill had taken Emma to her youth group who was meeting at the church parking lot. He got out of the call for a few minutes, and Emma went off from the group and called me, saying that her dad was acting ridiculous, doing all this silly stuff, trying to fist bump Rob, making a fool out of himself trying to be part of the group and embarrassing her. Huh? This did not sound like Phill at all, and when he got home, I asked him about it? He pretty much said, “What are you talking about? I said ‘hi’ to Rob and shook hands with him and that’s all!” Why did Emma have the need to make up a story about her dad trying to fit in with her friends.

Frequently, when Emma had a friend over, she would tell them, “I was an evil little kid…” and then tell some story about something she thought about as a child. I always thought this was silly, like Emma was trying to make her life sound much more dramatic than it was, but I figured she’s a kid, and if she wants to say that, fine. I wasn’t going to interrupt and say, “No you weren’t!” Now, if Emma wants to say she was an evil teenager, I might not argue with her there.

Much more to come……………

Chainsaws and Fireflies

Posted on September 29, 2015 by losingemma

Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey

Emma is now a married lady at the age of 21. I guess the freedom and independence she wanted so badly wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Most parents would wish their children didn’t get married at such a young age, but sometimes it works out. Emma still has some growing up to do, emotionally, and I would like to believe we will one day reconcile, but knowing Emma for 17 years, I don’t think so. Too many times, I saw Emma decide she didn’t like something or someone, and if you’ve heard the expression, “You are dead to me.” That pretty much describes Emma.
Like the knitting group in the previous post, when Emma decided she was done, that was it. In the knitting group, Emma sat in the corner, by herself, and refused to talk to anyone. I never figured out why she didn’t like the group anymore. When it was just Jan and her daughter, it was fine, but when a few more people showed up, that was it. I saw this same kind of behavior over and over again with people Emma didn’t like, whether it was someone from school, church, or wherever. If we ran into someone on Emma’s list, and I stopped to say hello, Emma was beyond rude in her silence, or would walk away when someone said hello to her, as if she were looking at something, pretending not to hear. Afterwards, I would scold her for being so rude, and told her that I didn’t care if she didn’t like someone, but she still needed to be polite. I wasn’t forcing her to have a conversation, but she could at least say hello.

This behavior never changed. Once you were on Emma’s list, you were dead to her, as I am sure I am to Emma now. I can still have hope that Emma will grow up and accept responsibility for what she did and quit blaming others, especially her parents for anything that didn’t go the way she wanted in her life, but if that even happens, it won’t be until she’s about thirty and she starts to realize her parents did the best they could and made mistakes just like every other parent out there. I can’t honestly say I have much hope though. Kids make mistakes, but as I’ve mentioned before, I think the things Emma’s done go far beyond “mistakes.”

In telling Emma’s story, I want to also tell some of the funny stories about Emma. For much of her childhood, her dad was working, so often, I was the only one to witness some of the funny things she said or did.

Chainsaws

Emma’s drawing of her dad with a chainsaw after a few beers. Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey, Emma Roey.

Emma did the above picture in 2004, when she was 10. Phill’s friend, Keith, a mechanic at UPS whom Phill did computer work for, was an expert at cutting down trees. He had the spiked shoes and would secure a tree with rope before climbing up and cutting the top of it off until it got to a manageable level to cut down completely. If you’ve never seen a large tree cut down, it is very interesting to watch.
Phill asked Keith to come over one Saturday to cut down some trees, and decided to ask a couple of friends from church to come over and help and we would have pizza and beer.

In Emma’s 10 year old brain, the thought of chainsaws and beer was not a good mix! (And you were exactly right Emma. I hope you will remember that about drinking and driving!) The afternoon when Phill was talking to me about it, Emma went off to her room to draw and came back to show me this picture of her dad, drunk, with a chainsaw. I thought it was pretty funny, and of course had to show it to Phill. I even scanned it in the computer, so I could show it to my sister. If anyone is concerned, the adults drank responsibly, and I think the only accident was when our friend, Patti, from church, cut a smaller tree down and it came down on the fence. I certainly can’t say anything about that, because I was out working in the yard alone one day, and cut down a tree that landed perfectly on the boombox I had out with me. It was crushed into a hundred pieces. I couldn’t have done that if I tried!

Emma and the Fireflies

One summer night, when Emma was about 9 or 10, she had gone to bed. Our home in Hoschton had split bedrooms with the living room between. Emma’s bedroom had two long windows and then a wide, short rectangular window above those. The long windows were covered with plantation shutters and we’d put a valance over the rectangular window, so it wasn’t light-tight.

Phill and I were in the living room, when Emma let out a blood curdling scream! We both stood up, ready to run to the aid of our child, when she came running out of her room, straight to me and threw her arms around me. I could feel her heart pounding furiously through her PJs. Emma screamed, “Someone was shining a light into my window!!!!”

Phill and looked at each other, not quite believing what we were hearing. Phill went in Emma’s room to look out the window, and I was starting to figure it out. All I could think of was, “Fireflies.”

Sure enough, lying in bed, looking up at her window, beneath the valance, Emma had seen the little blinking lights of the fireflies at her window.
We laughed about this story for years, and Emma even wrote an essay on it for an assignment at Master’s Academy (the homeschool arts program she attended).

Emma in her pjs, holding a little snake I found In the yard. Emma Kate Roey, Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey Emma Buchheim

Emma’s Stressors and Mental Illness

Posted on August 30, 2015 by losingemma

Because Emma loved her guinea pig (whom we had for almost 6 years–a pretty long life for a guinea pig), one Christmas I paid a friend to make Emma a guinea pig bean bag chair. Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey

Aug. 30, 2015

I have to admit that I had a little fun with that last post. I got a little silly with the Face In Hole site. It was kind of amusing, and as I said earlier, I could picture Emma and I having fun with it were things different. I remember us playing with photoshop one time, and Emma making crazy, alien-looking pictures with head shot of one of our neighbors. In all seriousness, I will get back to Emma’s story.

When I was going through the sheer hell of my daughter accusing me of abusing her (but before Emma accused me of poisoning her), the wife of a friend said something about how Emma was the perfect age for mental illness to show up. This lady is a health care professional, and I didn’t understand what she meant. She explained it to me, and I did some reading about it. Some studies say that one in five adolescents has a diagnosable mental health disorder. Wow. I didn’t know the numbers were that high! Often, what brings about the diagnosis is the stress of graduating high school, leaving home, and starting college. Leaving all that is familiar, an old school, old friends, etc. and going to a new place, whether it be college, a job, the military… All the changes and stressors can exacerbate the already present mental illness.
I know the terms psychopath and sociopath have really been replaced with the diagnosis “Antisocial Personality Disorder,” but people my age still tend to think more in the terms of psycho/sociopath. While Emma was growing up, it always bothered Phill and me that Emma didn’t seem to understand cause and effect, and she didn’t care about consequences. We often talked about how when we were kids if our parents offered a treat like having a friend spend the night, or going out to do something fun, we were Johnny on the Spot at getting our chores done so that we could get the reward. That was something we never saw in Emma. If she didn’t want to clean her room, telling her we’d take her bowling when she was done would make no difference. Nothing motivated Emma except for Emma. She did what she wanted and consequences be damned. If she got in trouble or caught red handed, she never showed remorse or guilt, just anger. Phill and I didn’t understand how to motivate her. Punishments for bad behavior didn’t work. If Emma got in trouble it was because we hated her or we were mean, but not because she’d broken a rule or misbehaved. Rewards for a job well done didn’t work. Now, I’m able to see there was a problem, but neither Phill nor I had enough experience with parenting or mental illness to realize that at the time that there was something wrong.
I can only imagine the stress that brought on Emma’s psychotic break, if that’s the right word for it. After claiming her on line friend, “Lacey” was raped and had attempted suicide, Emma made up a story about a priest sexually molesting her. She claimed this man stuck his fingers into her vagina multiple times. (Sorry for the graphic content there, but I think I need to say it bluntly to emphasize the seriousness of Emma’s allegations.) Emma was interviewed over and over again and therefore rehearsed her scene multiple times with numerous officials and members of two churches, attorneys, various therapists, counselors, a psychologist , a psychiatrist, DFACS, the police and sheriff’s departments in two counties. (Jackson and Gwinnett Counties, Ga.) Emma had been through a brutal interrogation by an attorney who was investigating Emma’s story for the church. And lastly, Emma had a large Atlanta law firm about to file suit. There would be a trial. The attorneys would need to interview “Lacey” to verify that she had been raped and attempted suicide so that the story of Emma’s “repressed memories” was feasible. Emma was about to be FOUND OUT, BUSTED, CAUGHT, EXPOSED! The truth would be revealed! Emma’s lies were about to be brought to light!

Emma was about to get caught with her hand in the cookie jar, only Emma’s misdeed was much worse than the usual childhood transgressionsl. Emma had committed the crime of false allegations, false police reports, etc. She had to cover up what she’d done. I don’t know if Emma would have been prosecuted for her false allegations, but I would think she could have been if the priest wanted to press charges or to sue her. We’ve all faced stress in our lives, and at the age of 17, I think this was more than Emma could take. Phill and I didn’t know about all the lying Emma had done. It wasn’t until after Emma accused me of abuse that I started looking into many of her stories. We assumed we had a normal teenager who could be very difficult a lot of the time, like a lot of them are. I kept telling myself that if we just got her to college she would be ok. I thought she would love college and do well there, and I guess in some ways she has. She’s attended four different colleges that I know of so far, but she does make good grades. I don’t know how she likes it or if she has any friends besides people like Kayla Benifield Weaver and Abby Benito that she didn’t see often but kept in touch with through facebook, e-mail, and texts. It’s a lot easier to hide who you really are when you only see you “friends” for occasional, short visits.

Emma was keeping a terrible secret and didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. If she did talk about it, she would have had to admit what horrible things she’d done. I can only imagine how stressed out Emma was that she was going to be discovered. In her sick mind, this would have been catastrophic. The pressure she put on herself must have been overwhelming. She knew what was coming and she must have felt the clock ticking, worrying day in and day out that the attorneys would interview “Lacey” and find out the truth about the “rape” and “suicide attempt” and thus find the truth out about Emma.

In some ways I can sympathize with Emma. With the stress of being thrown out of my home, my husband refusing counseling, losing my marriage and my family. I went through my own stress, and I know how horrible I felt when I felt like I was losing everything that was important to me. The difference is, I talked to a therapist, went on an antidepressant for a little while, and had some wonderfully supportive family and friends who were there for me. I think I worked through my stress without trying to hurt or destroy someone else. Emma chose a much more sinister route.

Losing Emma

Tag Archives: mental illness