Tag Archives: Sandra Brooks McCravy

Emma and the Roy Moore Effect

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My daughter Emma Katherine Roey, now Emma Buchheim, lied about a friend being raped and attempting suicide, claimed to have been molested by a priest, and then, just as her attorneys were about to file a law suit, Emma accused her mother (me) of physically abusing her and later of poisoning her with DDT. Emma claimed to have a toxicology report to confirm that her mother (me, again!) poisoned her, but would never turn over this report to my attorney. If you read through the blog, you will find many other examples of Emma’s lying. At one point, she even complained about the way her dad touched her and that he called her a “bitch” and a “slut” everyday. (I refused to listen to her when she talked about her dad like that.) As long as Emma continues with the lies, I will tell her story.  Emma and her husband, Tyler Buchheim now live in Frisco, Texas where Tyler, who has put architecture on hold, is studying to be a Full Stack Developer at the Flatiron School in an effort to avoid a midlife crisis (according to Tyler).  Emma works in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area as an insurance underwriter.  Love and thanks to all of you who read and have written to me. If you have any questions or comments, please contact me at: losingemma@gmail.com Please continue to share the blog with others.

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My daughter, Emma Katherine Buchheim, conservative Christian, who falsely accused a priest of sexually molesting her.

Emma and the Roy Moore Effect

I have to admit, up until the latest accusation, I didn’t even know who Judge Roy Moore was. I am busy working, keeping up with my bills, paying taxes, and volunteering in what little free time I do have. I try to keep up with the news some, but that means mostly listening to the radio in the car, and a few minutes on the computer here and there reading the news. I have a television with an outside antenna, and on a good day, I get 7 channels, but if it’s raining or windy, I usually get three. Only two of them are the “big” networks (CBS and ABC) and the rest are junk. I am not that well informed. I’m hoping later to get a better antenna and get a few more stations, or at least get the stations I do get a little more reliably.

Lately, there’s been a lot of news about people, mostly women, accusing men of sexual abuse. Usually these men are in positions of power or positions of authority. There’s Bill Cosby, Harvey Weinstein, Kevin Spacey, Louie, CK… Some of these men have admitted to what they did, and some haven’t.

And then there’s Facebook, and all the “#Me too” posts. I had to wonder if Emma rushed to post her “Me too” to show how brave she is, or to feel included, or whatever her point would be. I don’t even know what name Emma uses on Facebook now or if she is even on there anymore. She changed her name a few times from Emma Roey, I think to Emma Kate Roey, to Sophie Buchheim (or was that Pinterest?) to Katie Smith… I’ve really lost track of all the names Emma has gone by, but like I always told Emma, if you have to hide, it probably means you are doing something you ought not be doing.

All this got me thinking about Emma and her accusation against the priest she accused of sexual molestation. What was going on in that 16 year old brain of hers? I’m hoping one day Emma will enlighten us, but I also accept that I may never know exactly what is going on with Emma. I can only speculate and make my guesses with what I knew as Emma’s mom for 17 years.

I know there was something going on with Emma a couple of months before the big accusation. She went for a few months of accusing her dad of calling her names like “bitch” and “slut” everyday, and complained about the way he touched her. She didn’t out and out say that Phill molested her, but complained about him putting his hand on her thigh, etc. She told me that she had told her friends Kayla Benifield Weaver and “Lacey” about how her dad called her bad names on a daily basis. She said she did not like her dad and told him she didn’t love him. Poor Phill, this broke his heart.

When it came to me, I stopped Emma in her tracks. I told her to knock it off because she knew what she was saying was not true. There may have been a time or two Phill said Emma was “acting like a bitch,” but he never called her those names directly. I always shut her down and refused to listen to her talking badly about her dad. Emma liked to play the “Daddy is an idiot” game, and I didn’t mind a little joking around, acting like Phill just didn’t get us girls at times, but when Emma got mean about her dad, making fun of him for not finishing college and for being a dumb truck driver, etc., I would shut her down and tell her not to talk that way. I would remind her of our nice home and all the nice things she had and all the activities she got to partake in because of her dad being a dumb truck driver. I refused to listen to Emma when she got ugly about her dad. A little joking around was fine, but she could be downright mean, and I would cut her off when she crossed that line.

Emma loved to play the “girls against the dumb boy” game, and act like she was mommy’s girl, and dumb ol’ Daddy needed to keep out. This didn’t worry me. I thought it was kind of normal, albeit childish behavior, and then there was one day, at age 17, when Emma was sick with a virus and while sitting on the toilet with diarrhea, she vomited all over herself at the same time. The poor girl was sick at both ends didn’t make it to the bathroom in time and called out for help! I was busy in another part of the house, and didn’t hear her call out, but Phill, the dutiful dad went in to help clean up the diarrhea and the vomit of his nearly 17 year old daughter. I came downstairs and Phill told me that poor Emma was sick and had bodily fluids coming out of both ends. Her clothes were soiled and she was nasty between all the bodily fluids, but, good dad that he was, he’d gone in there to help get her cleaned up. That’s what a good dad does, this poor man that Emma accused of calling her “bitch” and “slut” and saying horrible things about her, this poor man who Emma loved to say she didn’t love, got down and dirty taking care of his daughter because she wouldn’t do it herself. Emma was so grossed out by the vomit and diarrhea, that she didn’t want to touch anything!

So………………..my theory is that Emma was thinking about accusing her dad of abuse. I’m not sure what was going through her head, but she was trying to create a divide between her dad and her mom. Unfortunately for me, I refused to listen to Emma talk bad about her dad, so she had to create a new plan.

I was wondering how Emma chose the priest to accuse of molestation. She had already accused a fellow student, Johnny Boddie, of trying to kiss her. Emma had told me this crazy story about Johnny and how he (in 11th grade) was engaged….. The story was so strange, and didn’t make sense, and when I questioned Emma, she just changed the story, so I let it go, just assuming Emma didn’t get her facts straight. Whenever I questioned Emma about some of her stories, she just kept talking, I guess trying to talk her way out of it or to distract me by going on to another topic.

How did Emma decide to choose the priest of molestation? This man had been the interim priest at our church for about a year when Emma was about 12 years old. I remember, when Emma did a reading, during the service, and after she sat down, the priest complimented her on a job well done in front of the whole church, and then began his sermon. (Emma had a great voice and projects well.)

At the time that Emma made up the story about being molested, the priest that she accused was running for public office. And, he was running as, HORRORS, a democrat! Is that why Emma choose the priest? I have no idea what was going through her little brain, but I have to wonder. Emma needed attention, so she made up being sexually molested. Then, she needed to come up with a bad guy to play opposite of her role of being a victim, At first, she was turning on her daddy, but her mom wouldn’t allow that, so she needed a new victim, so who did she turn to (or on) but a former priest at our church who was now entering the world of politics.

When Emma spoke to my sister, after I’d told my sister about Emma’s claim of sexual abuse, the first thing she said to my sister was that the priest was (shudder) a Democrat. Now, we all know that Emma is a staunch conservative, or maybe even Alt-right. Phill liked to say, “Emma’s even far right of right.” I have to wonder, if you’d been sexually molested, would your first thought be about the violator’s political persuasion? Is that what is important to you? Phill labeled himself a Libertarian and liked to say he was fiscally conservative and socially liberal. I couldn’t agree totally with any party, but considered myself fairly conservative. We tried to teach Emma to think for herself and not blindly follow any party, but Emma wanted to be a conservative Republican. She loved making fun of liberals including one of my sisters and her husband, and she could be kind of mean, but I chalked this up to that teenage know-it-all attitude. Emma was right and all liberals were stupid.

Once, when a friend called and I wasn’t home, Emma had a nice chat with her “Aunt M.” (Emma called close friends of the family “aunt.”) This friend happens to be a democrat, but was still pretty close to Emma and was always good to her on her birthday and Christmas. Well, when Emma relayed the conversation to me, she told me the craziest story about how Aunt M told her that the Nazis were going to come back and she needed to keep some hair dye on hand so she could adapt to that Aryan look. It might save her life! Wait? What? This was another story that was so crazy, I questioned Emma, but she swore it was true. It just didn’t make any sense, and it did not sound like my friend, so I dropped it, and as far as I know, Emma didn’t go blonde.

In reading about the Judge Roy Moore accusation, I had to wonder about the timing. I know, that a lot of women have kept their own stories about abuse to themselves until they saw others coming forward, and then they got the courage to come forward themselves. From what I read, the (or one of the) woman who accused Judge Moore, had worked for Hillary Clinton’s campaign. Why did she wait until right before the election to accuse Judge Moore? Why, right now? Why not earlier? And why did Emma accuse the priest when she did? Did she discover that he was running for office, so that was why she chose to accuse him? I don’t know a think about the accusations against Judge Moore because I haven’t heard much of the news in the past few days. I do believe in the order of law, and it may take time, but if the stories are true, it will come out. I sort of think there’s a double standard with the media. The same media who mocked Gennifer Flowers and Paula Jones who accused Bill Clinton of sexual abuse, now whole heartily believes the accusers. That being said, I also remember when John Kerry was running for president and there was supposedly an “intern story” that would come out that never did. Also, when our home-state favorite, Herman Cain, ran for president, there were a couple of women who accused him of sexual misconduct, but those stories never went any further either.

Up until I lived through Emma’s false accusations, I was probably quick to believe the accuser in sexual abuse stories too. After all, who would make it up? Now, I need to hear a lot more facts before I pick a side. I withhold my judgment until I hear the facts, not that my judgment matters to anyone. And let me tell you, it was painful to side with the accusers of one of my childhood heroes, Bill Cosby. I was one of those kids in the sixties, lying on the floor around the stereo, listening to our Dad’s Bill Cosby albums. Early in our marriage, Phill and I never missed an episode of The Cosby Show until the last couple of years, when we kind of lost interest. Who didn’t love “everybody’s dad?”

After Emma’s accusation, she got what she wanted, temporarily. The priest that Emma accused dropped out of the race, but after the police investigated, and couldn’t find any reason to charge him, the priest got back into the election. From what I understand, he didn’t have much of a chance anyway, as he was a democrat running in a highly conservative district, so although what Emma did was an absolutely horrible thing to do to another human being, it probably did not have much of an effect on the outcome of the election.

When I told my good friend, Sandra Brooks McCravy about Emma’s claim of sexual abuse, she wanted me to go to one of the priest/politician’s political speeches and to stand up and ask him about sexually abusing my daughter. I wasn’t brave enough to do something like that, but now I wish I had. I’ll be if I told Emma I was going to do that, she would have found a reason to stop me.

Emma was always interested in politics, and even toyed with the idea of going into politics one day. After her brief stay at Charter Peachford Behavioral Health, Emma came home and said that she guessed she couldn’t go into politics now that she’d had a stay at the mental hospital in her record. (I don’t know Emma, quite a few politicians have been to rehab, and with the number of politicians who lie, that might have been the career for you!) Was blaming the priest for her made-up “molestation” Emma’s first foray into politics? Was the whole reason she accused the priest because of his politics? I hope one day Emma will explain to us the thinking behind her actions.

Unfortunately, I think there will always be women who will be sexually harassed by some man somewhere. Almost every woman I know has faced this type of harassment at least once in her life. With all the mental illness out there, there will always be men who see nothing wrong with their actions, or men who abuse their authority. I’m just sorry that there will always be women out there who will lie about such as serious issue and hurt the cause for the real victims, and I’m sorry that my daughter is one of them.

Happy 2nd Anniversary Emma and Tyler

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

Happy 2nd Anniversary to Emma and Tyler!

EmmaTylerWedding

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lots of love,

Mom/Maze

Death of A Marriage, Part 2

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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!

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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.

 

Facebook Memories

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

 

Facebook Memories

A few days ago, I got on to Facebook and saw one of those “share your memories” posts about how on this day 7 years ago, I had posted how I finished a book a student had lent me (City of Bones by Cassandra Clare), we got up and went to church, Emma and I went to a bead show, and then came home and Phill had made us dinner, and what a lovely day it was. How was I to know that a short month later, on her dad’s birthday, Emma would begin all her drama of accusing a priest of molesting her, leading to the destruction of our family and of Phill’s and my marriage.

This particular bead show came to the Gwinnett Civic Center about twice a year, and I frequently went, mostly to look, but ofter there was some little thing to pick up that I couldn’t find locally. For those of you that may not know, I used to make glass beads and jewelry. Unfortunately, I had no where to put my glass supplies when I got thrown out of my home, so they are gone. I have no idea what Phill did with them. I do have my beads and some supplies, but when I asked Phill for my old desk, he refused to give it to me, and I doubt, between working two jobs, volunteering, and having somewhat of a life, I will ever make jewelry again. All my supplies sit in boxes. Eventually, I will give it all away.

I think this was the same show where Emma bought her purity ring, and then in the fall of 2010 during the time Emma was seeing Dr. Genie Burnett at Manna Treatment, Emma complained that we wouldn’t send her on a church retreat because we couldn’t afford it, but I could got to a bead show and buy beads. That particular show that Emma complained about, I’d bought $30 worth of supplies, and the reason we wouldn’t send Emma to the church retreat was because she was throwing up all the time and taking so much medicine (Zofran) that she slept all the time, and we couldn’t see sending her on a retreat when all she did was sleep. (Of course, we didn’t know that another reason Emma was sleeping so much was because she was on the phone late at night, talking to her other mommy, Sandra Brooks McCravy, whining about her pitiful life and how mean her mommy was. Emma was a busy girl.) It had nothing to do with the cost of the weekend retreat, but I suppose it sounded good to Dr. Burnett to say that I was too selfish to spend on my daughter, but could spend on myself.

Sandra Brooks McCravy

Sandra Brooks McCravy

I don’t remember the story, but in one of Emma’s history books we read about a character, maybe a raven? (Emma, help me out here. I’m sure you remember.) Anyway, the character got distracted by shiny objects. If you’ve seen the movie UP, which we saw as a family, and even Phill cried, then you know what I mean when I say, “Squirrel.” and how the dogs got distracted every time someone said “squirrel.” Well, we’d read this story a few years before we saw up, and Emma would always refer to it when she saw something small and pretty and acted like whatever it was completely distracted her and she would say, “Oooooo, shiny!” No one else would know what Emma was referring to, it was kind of a private joke between the two of us.

What’s kind of funny was that when I went to the bead show in February of 2011, it was during the time Emma was telling her therapist that I was abusing her. Hmmmm, so why would you want to go out with your abusive mother when you didn’t have to? Emma didn’t always go with me to the bead shows, but she loved going and usually went with me. As much as I hate to say it, she didn’t really have friends, so Phill and I were most of her social life. Phill was usually often home on Sundays if he wasn’t flying RC planes, and Emma was old enough to stay alone anyway, so why did she want to go to the bead show with her abusive mother when she could have stayed home and not risked being physically abused? (Hmmm…) When she did go with me, we oooed and ahhed over all the pretties and sometimes Emma bought something for herself, or I bought her something if she saw something she wanted to make into a project. She pretty much had access to any of my supplies if she wanted to make something, and of course, I made her plenty of jewelry. If Emma got a new dress, I could whip up something for her to wear with it. We had a lot of fun collaborating on what she wanted. I also spent many hours teaching Emma beading stitches and took her on trips to the William Holland School in Young Harris, Ga., where she took classes.

Another thing Emma and I did in February of 2011 was to take our Foster Dog to Agility training. The woman who did the classes let foster dogs with the rescue come to class for free. It was great for them to learn a few things and gain some confidence. These classes were on Sunday afternoons. Emma always wanted to go with me right up until she had her little fit at Suzie McGarvey’s office on March 14 2011 and wanted to go live in a group home. She certainly didn’t have to go with me those Sunday afternoons. I loved going and running the dog, but when Emma went, I always let her take the dog on the course and I watched. Selfish mommy that I was, I gave up what I loved doing so that my daughter could do it. Of course, when I asked Phill why Emma always wanted to go with her abusive mother to Agility if I was so horrible, he said I made her go with me. Yep, that must be it.

agilitybenny3

Emma Buchheim and our foster dog, Benny, at Agility.  Mean mommy that I am, I dragged Emma to Agility class during the time she claimed I abused her, even though I would have much enjoyed an afternoon to myself.  

agilitybennyb

After those horrible events on September 11, 2001, the 9-11 commission said, “They were at war with us. We weren’t at war with them.” (Excuse me if I didn’t quote that exactly right.) That is pretty much how I feel about my daughter. She was at war with me, and I had no idea. She wanted me out of her way so she could run the household and be the wife default, taking over as the woman in Phill’s life, and I never saw it coming. Emma hated me so much just for being her mother. It saddens me to know this horrible human being came out of my body. Phill and I thought we were raising a good, decent young lady, and I know she acts the part, but I’m finding more and more people who know the truth about Emma. I’m sorry Tyler Buchheim, we didn’t raise her that way.

Recently, I ready the book, by Sue Klebold, A Mother’s Reckoning: Living in the Aftermath of Tragedy, and I could compare so much of my story to the heart breaking story of Sue Klebold. Thank you God that Emma has not killed anyone yet. Do I think it could happen, yes. I hope it won’t, but I think Emma is capable of some pretty horrible things.

I wish I’d taken some notes, and I may have to go back and get the book from the library again. They two young me, Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris had different personality disorders if you want to call it that. Dylan sounded more depressed and Eric sounded like more of a sociopath. I remember reading about Eric and thinking, “That sounds like Emma.” Not that in any way do I think Emma is going to go out and commit mass murder. She doesn’t fit that profile, but I think she will do other things, and I don’t think she has a conscience.

Also recently, I had some conversations with a young man who discovered my blog and thought he was a lot like Emma. In telling me about himself, he thought maybe he could help me understand Emma. I hope to write more about some insight this young man gave me in the future when I get some time because it was kind of odd to be in that position of speaking to someone who knew so much about your daughter without having ever met her. It was interesting to say the least.

I also want to write for all the estranged parents our there. I’ve talked to other parents who’ve been through something similar, and I’ve found that many of them don’t want their child back in their lives. They love the child that they raised, but why would you invite all that turmoil back into your life? Would I want Emma back in my life?

I don’t talk about Emma much except to a few close friends, some of whom knew Emma while she was growing up. Sometimes, when I coworker is talking about something their child or grandchild did, I want to share a memory of Emma, but I don’t. I am a reminder of every mother’s nightmare. I remind them of what could happen when a child goes horribly wrong. It is frightening to other parents to know what Emma did and to wonder if your own child could ever do such a thing. It’s kind of like being in a secret club. Every once in a while someone will tell me their story, and I don’t mind sharing mine with them because it helps to know you are not alone, but this is not a club people want to talk about belonging to. We all want that “normal” child that grows up to be a functioning adult, with goals and accomplishments and who gets married and has babies and finds her place in this world.

Some years back, one of our relatives made a half-hearted suicide attempt, and the nurse at the ER told her mother that if she could just get her to aged 24, she would be ok. This young woman is now in her 40’s and doing fairly well. She is married with children of her own. As Emma turns 24 later this year, we’ll see if that holds true. No, I don’t think it will. It’s a nice thought, but when I look back on Emma, especially the teen years, and realize she lied pretty much about everyone she knew, I think there was more than a little teen angst going on with my baby girl. Not all the lies were mean, many were quite humourous, but they were lies. Emma is a teller of tales. I don’t think you outgrow that.

No matter what horrible things your child has done, there will always be good memories. Emma was a wonderful baby, and an adorable toddler. Up until the teenage years, I thought Phill and I were raising her right. I do have a lot of fun, normal childhood memories of Emma, and I am thankful for them. I thought being Emma’s mom was the most important job I could ever have. I loved being her mom. For all you parents going through something similar, hold on to the good memories. No one can take those from you.

 

A Note for Emma

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If you are new to this blog, you may want to read the posts “In a Nutshell” or go to July 2012 and read “Sending out a Letter.” My daughter Emma Katherine Roey 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.

facepaintEmma painted her face while helping with a 12Stone Church project where people went out to do things in the community.  Some of our friends from Bible study belonged to this church, and Emma wanted to go.  She ended up making balloon animals and doing face painting.

Hi Emma,

I realize your 1st anniversary is coming up, and I’ll write a little about that later.  I just wanted to mention that I got an e-mail that you might want to read.  Let me know, and I will forward it do you.  I’m certainly not going to contact you without your permission.  After all, we don’t want you to have to go to the trouble of taking out a restraining order against your mother.  Anyway, I’m not going to post it here and embarrass the person who sent it.

I got a little chuckle when I was at WalMart the other day.  Look what I found:

Emmatoes

Not what I was looking for, but this caught my eye and reminded me of when you kicked your bathroom cabinet “accidentally” and you SCREAMED and Daddy and I came running.  I checked you over and said that if your toe was broken, a doctor wouldn’t do anything about it anyway, and since you could move your foot, and it wasn’t swollen, I wasn’t worried.  Then  two nights later you got Dr. Genie Burnett (Manna Treatment and Counseling, Lawrenceville, Ga) to call the police because she was so worried that you were in danger from your evil mother!  The police came, and when they spoke you you alone, you told them how your mother had abused you and you showed them your “broken toes” which were all pink from the cherry popsicle sticks you used to secure your toes.  (We always had a house full of Popsicles due to you frequent vomiting.)

I won’t retell the whole story here because I’ve already done that, but I saw these in Walmart and they did give me a chuckle, thinking about that incident.  I was thinking that when you want to accuse Tyler of abuse, here you go!  A product for securing your toes when your husband breaks them.  Oh, and by the way, you might want to use grape popsicle sticks instead of the cherry ones.  Having broken my toe a couple of years ago, it should look more like this:

Emmabrokentoe

and not be pink from the popsicle sticks.  Details, darling.  You want to get it right!

In all seriousness though, I would love it if when I publish the column about your vomiting issues, if you wanted to contribute.  I would love to have your side of the story as to what you think made you throw up all those years. (I know you claimed I poisoned you with DDT, but we all know that’s not true.  That was one of your lies that you didn’t really think through.)  If you are still studying to be a counselor, you may have some good insight as to what was going on in your head.

Also, I’m hoping one day you’ll be able to explain to us, why all the drama?  Daddy and I used to joke about how boring we were.  We loved you and we loved each other.  You had a pretty carefree childhood and got, within reason, pretty much whatever you wanted.  Why was that not enough?  Was it just too boring to be happy?  Why the need for all the drama?  Why all the need to be the victim?  (Volunteer, actually.)

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

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If you are new to this blog, you may want to read the posts “In a Nutshell” or go to July 2012 and read “Sending out a Letter.” My daughter Emma Katherine Roey 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.

caesarhat4sm

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…

Another Emma Believe It Or Not

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birdbandingcatbird

Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Buchheim, Katie Smith, Emma Kate Roey, Sophie Buchheim

 

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.

 

Recently, I was traveling, and while driving along the coast and seeing the signs to Savannah, something popped into my head.  I  believe Emma was in 6th grade when the church youth group went on a try to Jekyll Island, Ga. to learn a little about bird banding. There was a couple at our church, Mr. and Mrs. P. who spent every fall banding birds and recording information. They’d been doing this for years. Emma seemed to enjoy the trip despite her complaining about the other kids. There was the one young lady that Emma never got along with, and Emma talked about how she latched on to one of the boys and spent the whole trip with him. (Perhaps a little jealousy there.)

 

This was also the trip where Emma complained about the new youth leader letting the girls watch the program “Sex and the City” and claimed that she picked up her sleeping bag and moved it to the kitchen. She claimed she told the group that she didn’t think her parents would want her watching that program. Whether or not that’s true, who knows? I think I can easily picture Emma making that story up to make herself sound a little high and mighty.
In 2007, Mrs. P. invited Emma and I to go to Jekyll while they were bird banding, since she knew we homeschooled and had a somewhat flexible schedule. We took her up on her offer and drove down there that September for a few days. Jekyll was beautiful, and learning about the bird banding was very interesting. We weren’t allowed to remove the birds from the nets, but we could hold the birds once they were handed to us. I was thrilled when I was able to recognize the subtle differences in some of the birds because when we first started, they all looked alike! In addition to Emma and myself, there was Mr. and Mrs. P, their grown son, and a friend of theirs who came down just before we left. Over dinner conversation, it was very clear that the politics of the group was liberal leaning, and Emma, being very opinionated, even as an 8th grader, did not like the conversations. As a mostly conservative myself, I agreed with somethings that were said and didn’t agree with some things, but it doesn’t upset me if my opinions differ from those around me. Emma, on the other hand, had no use for people whose perspectives were different from her own.
All in all, bird banding was a great educational experience.
A year or so later, when Emma was doing school on line, some of the ladies at church started a sewing group, and I thought Emma might enjoy that. Often, if I could let Emma do something without me, I would, to try to give her a little space without mommy always being around, so I took her to the group, but didn’t stay.
When I picked Emma up, she seemed to have enjoyed the group, but then started complaining about Mrs. P. and how she put down homeschooling, going on about homeschoolers being unsocialized, etc. Emma claimed that when Mrs. P. made some derogatory comment about homeschooling, Emma piped up and said, “Well, I’ve never known a pregnant homeschooler.”
Then Emma said, that another woman from our church, the mother of Savannah, one of the girls in the youth group, said something like, “Good one, Emma.”
I remember telling Phill about the incident, and it never occurred to us that it might not be true. We were kind of proud of Emma for speaking up, but sometime later, something bothered me about this story.Mrs. P. was a classy, polite, articulate, considerate, educated, kind lady. She’d known Emma for years, and knew Emma was homeschooled. I just cannot believe that she would have been putting down homeschooling in front of Emma, knowing that Emma was homeschooled, even if she did have feelings thoughts about it. She just wasn’t that type of person.
Have I called up Mrs. P. to ask her if this story even happened? No. I just classify this story under another Believe it or Not, and I’m not buying it.
So many times, I saw Emma be very judgmental against someone whose politics were different than Emma’s. That’s all it took for her to decide she didn’t like someone. I certainly hope she outgrows this behavior and can learn that people who think differently than you do can still have a lot to offer.
After we told my sister about Emma’s accusation of “molestation,” she later told me that Emma immediately told her that the priest she accused “molesting” her was a democrat. Doesn’t it seem a little odd that you claim to have been sexually abused by a priest, and one of the first things you tell someone about the situation is that he was a democrat?
I know this story is mall in comparison to some of the other things Emma’s done, but I think some of these small stories give you better insight into Emma’s personality, so I want to share them.
And Emma, I will give you credit for one thing though. You were right about your dad. I always joked about your dad being super smart but I wondered about his common sense sometimes. I guess in some ways, he is as dumb as you always said he was. Later on, I will tell you about your dad’s family and his relationships with them, and you can sort of understand why he is the way he is. (I would prefer not to write about this on the blog, but since we can’t talk in person I guess I will have to. And besides, nothing your dad or his family has in their history can be as bad as being a child abuser and attempted murderer, right? BTW, have you recovered from the residual effects of the DDT?  I hope you are happy and healthy.)

Thank you to my readers! Please feel free to write me at: losingemma@gmail.com

Happy Birthday, Emma!

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Emma, I hope you had a wonderful 22nd birthday! Your first birthday as a married lady! Emma turned 22 on Dec. 19th.

And to my readers, I’m sorry to be so slow in finishing up my story about how Phill and Emma tried to get me to violate the Temporary Protective order. It’s coming! Like a lot of us, Nov. and Dec. are busy, busy! I am ready for things to slow down!

The other day, I had a facebook message that said I posted this picture 5 years ago:
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I took this Photo when I was doing pet photos with Santa for the dog/cat rescue group we volunteered with. Emma always liked to assist me, helping people and pets get situated or making noises to get the pet to look at the camera, things like that. It was a challenging job as the pets weren’t always cooperative, but we had a lot of fun doing it and talking to people about their pets.

I loved this picture. Emma had that beautiful smile after all the torturing we did to her with braces. This picture was just a couple of short weeks before Emma had Dr. Genie Burnett (Manna Treatment and Counseling, 965 Oakland Rd, Bldg 3, Suites D&E,Lawrenceville, Ga 30044 Tel: 770-495-9775 Fax: 770-495-9745 GA.) call the police to say Emma was being physically abused by her mother. We had such a great time on this day. I certainly didn’t see any signs of abuse in the way Emma was acting. You’d think if her mother was abusing her, she wouldn’t want to go hang out with her mother at adoptions every Saturday. Funny.

As for Dr. Genie, Manna Treatment moved their practice from Duluth to Lawrenceville, opened and closed another location in Marietta, and hopefully is sticking to her forte of eating disorders. I’ve often wondered what therapists do when they mess up, especially a good Christian counselor like Dr. Genie. Apparently nothing. They certainly don’t want to admit they were taken in and fooled by a lying 16 year old. Doesn’t make them look very professional, does it?

Anyway, Emma, let me wish you a Merry Christmas, as I’m probably not going to have much time this week. I wanted to text you on your birthday and wish you a happy birthday, but I know you’d threaten me with a restraining order, so I certainly won’t do that and I’ll just keep writing here.

Thank you to my readers for you love and support.

Emma Prays her Parents don’t Divorce

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If you are new to this blog, you may want to read the posts “In a Nutshell” or go to July 2012 and read “Sending out a Letter.” My daughter Emma Katherine Roey 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.

Emma Katherine Roey

Emma Katherine Roey

I had to laugh today. I was about to sit down and write about the Temporary Protective Order, and how Phill tried to get me to violate it, so that he could probably try for a Restraining Order that Emma had been so desperately wanting. If you remember, Phill had two sheriff’s deputies show up to surprise and remove me from my home with only a suitcase (BTW, he still has all my things, but we’ll get to that later.), so I was looking for the e-mail a friend wrote about how Phill tried to get me to violate the terms of the protective order, when I came across Emma’s e-mail to an on-line friend, Amber Lynn Smith, now Amber Lynn Hicks, a 3rd grade teacher. I think Emma met Amber through an on-line class, and since Amber was attending Piedmont College, Emma was interested in Piedmont College in Demerost, Ga. At the time of this e-mail, Emma had not met Amber in person.

Here is the e-mail (paraphrased) that Emma sent to Amber Lynn Hicks:

Emma tells Amber she doesn’t have time to type it all out right now because of big family problems. She is praying really hard that her parents don’t divorce, but there’s a lot more than that. Her mom has serious mental issures which led to some REALLY BAD physical abuse towards Emma and DFACS was involved….yeah it stinks.

Ok, Emma goes on, she had Ms. Schwartz (English teacher) last semester and she didn’t like Emma at first, but Emma thinks she proved herself.

Mr. Freeman (Sanford L. Freeman, history teacher at Jefferson High School, Jefferson, Ga.) is definitely a kook. Emma says she thinks he enjoys his image. He gets so gleeful when he gets someone into mandatory tutoring. Emma says she is not in that category, thank God! Mr. Freeman’s quizzes are hard, but she gets good essay grades, so it evens out.

Emma says she hasn’t had time to visit Piedmont college yet, hopefully over Spring Break, if things go ok, but if her parents divorce, she will have to live at home because she can’t leave her dad alone. She could commute though, with the right financial aid……

Emma asks Amber Lynn Hicks to do her a favor and when she responds, not to reply, but to start a new message so her mom can’t see what she said. She doesn’t want to change her password because then her mom will know something is up……..yeah, life is complicated.

I remember finding this e-mail and being very upset. Emma was spreading her lies to someone she’d never even met, but now I understand a little more about liars and how they operate, not much mind you because it’s is still very hard for me to understand. My mind just doesn’t work that way, and I don’t have that Ph.d. like some of Emma’s therapists.

When I came across this e-mail today, after not seeing it for at least a year, and being a much stronger person than when I originally found it, I had to laugh at some of the things Emma said, like how she was praying “really hard” that her parent’s didn’t divorce. A divorce was exactly what Emma wanted. There cannot be two queens, and Emma wanted to be the queen of the castle. There was no way she could do that if her mother was still around. Phill was on the road a lot with his job with UPS. Emma’s mom was the evil control freak that was frequently in her way!

Emma said she wouldn’t be able to go away to Piedmont College and leave her dad alone, but that was exactly what she did until she was able to con Tyler Buchhein’s family (her boyfriend she met online but managed to turn into a “real” relationship) into taking her in and letting her move in with them in Ohio.

As for her mom’s serious mental issues, remember, Emma and Dr. Genie Burnett had diagnosed me with “Paranoid Borderline Personality Disorder” or some such without my even knowing it! Dr. Elizabeth Genie Burnett (Manna Treatment, Duluth, Ga.) went through a checklist with Emma, a 17 year old with a long history of lying, asking her questions about me, and diagnosed me! How much more professional can a psychologist be? Dr. Genie must be one really talented psychologist because she diagnosed me through the eyes of my daughter and without actually doing any kind of psychological evaluation on me! AND she is a Christian counselor! The fact that she was a Christian was so important to both Emma and her “mommy” Sandra Brooks McCravy (Sandy McCravy).

I hadn’t seen this e-mail in quite a while, and it is funny how your perspective changes. I remember how hurt I was when I first saw it, and now it’s just laughable (in a sad sort of way). There are so many people who know about Emma’s lies that I don’t really hide that fact that I’m a “child abuse” anymore. I even joked about changing the name of this site to “Diary of a Child Abuser.”

As many of you know, I have volunteered with a dog/cat rescue for over 11 years now. A couple of years ago, we were at adoptions, when a small dog wanted to jump in my lap and hit his head on a table that was in the way. I cooed and comforted him, and a friend joked and called me a “puppy abuser” and then immediately apologized, knowing what I’d been through with Emma, and afraid she’d brought up a sore subject. She felt horrible, but I laughed and told her that I if she thought that would upset me after all I’d been through, she needed to realize I had a much thicker skin now, thanks to Emma. Calling me a “puppy abuser” did not bother me in the least, and I knew it was a joke. Believe it or not, I still have a pretty good sense of humor.

Another thing I wanted to mention was Emma’s English teacher, Mrs. Schwartz. I will get to her story later. Emma told quite a few tales about Mrs. Schwartz because she did not like her English class. Fortunately, I also have those documented. Because of all Emma’s complaints, Emma’s school counselor, Heather Thompson (Jefferson High School) arranged for a meeting between Phill, Emma, and I with Mrs. Schwartz. Poor Mrs. Schwartz was blindsided by this meeting and Emma’s accusations.

Ok, I got a little off topic. I will work on the story of Phill and Emma trying to get me to violate the protective order next. Either they wanted to get me thrown in jail, or to get a restraining order against me. Only Phill and Emma can answer that one, but I will tell you what happened. Fortunately, I didn’t fall for it, and I had some good friends looking out for me.

As a mother, I can tell you this is an odd place to be.  I love Emma with every ounce of my being and would give my last breath to protect her.  Like any mother, she was my life, and I love her with all my heart, but I HATE what she’s done, not just to me, but to many others.

Emma Getting Married—A Mother’s thoughts

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If you are new to this blog, you may want to read the posts “In a Nutshell” or go to July 2012 and read “Sending out a Letter.” My daughter Emma Katherine Roey 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.

 

emmaandbeau-copy

Emma and fiance Tyler Albert Buchheim.

Since I won't be attending Emma's wedding, I couldn't help making a few bridal pictures. Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey

Since I won’t be attending Emma’s wedding, I couldn’t help making a few bridal pictures. Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey

For those of you attending Emma’s wedding, I hope everyone knows it is still Sept. 19, 2015, but the location has changed from Port Girardeau, MO to Santa Rosa, CA. Gee, I feel sorry for the people who go their plane tickets already  (wink wink) Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s an Ohio wedding?

In 2012, I heard Emma was engaged to Tyler Buchheim, an architecture student from West Chester Township, Ohio, who attended Notre Dame University and whom Emma had met on line. I had mixed feelings. She was 19, and too young and immature to be engaged, and Tyler was her first boyfriend, but I was also saddened, no, heartbroken, that I didn’t hear about Emma meeting Tyler, falling in love, etc. from Emma. I felt like in addition to all I’d missed with Emma starting college, I’d missed hearing about something else that was so special in Emma’s life. She’s my daughter, and even with all the horrible things she’s done, I do love her, and I want to see her happy and to have a normal life, even though now I don’t think that is possible. Emma will never have a “normal” life.

I was sad at the thought of missing all the wedding things with Emma like seeing her walk down the aisle to marry the man she loves, helping her with arrangements, going dress shopping, attending her shower, etc.

Since I won't be attending Emma's wedding, I couldn't help making a few bridal pictures. Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey

Since I won’t be attending Emma’s wedding, I couldn’t help making a few bridal pictures. Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey

Of course, later on, I was to find out that there was no engagement, according to Tyler’s mom, Sherry Buchheim, who e-mailed me several times and told me that Tyler was not ready to get in engaged, etc. Who knows, maybe Sherry was lying to cover up for Emma. I don’t know, and it doesn’t really matter. I still find it odd that a family from Ohio would let their son’s girlfriend move from Georgia to Ohio, to move in with the boyfriend’s grandparents, if the relationship was not fairly serious. They’d even taken Emma on vacation to Hilton Head and even had professional pictures made of Emma and Tyler.

I felt obligated to warn Tyler’s family about what they were getting into, and saw no point in e-mailing a young man who was in love. Who would he believe? His girlfriend? Or her mother whom he’d never met? Instead, I contacted Tyler’s mother, Sherry Buchheim, and told her briefly what Emma had done. I gave her my name, address, phone number and e-mail address and told her I would be happy to answer any questions she might have. (I’ve already written about this, so dear readers, you can go back and read about “Bud the Boyfriend” to get the full story about Emma and Tyler Buchheim.) I knew that Emma marrying anyone was going to be a disaster.

Since I won't be attending Emma's wedding, I couldn't help making a few bridal pictures. Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey

Since I won’t be attending Emma’s wedding, I couldn’t help making a few bridal pictures. Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey

Now, when I think about Emma getting married, it just makes me sad for her. What kind of marriage can she have? But then again, I am glad Emma’s getting married. She won’t be able to hide her crazy (with apologies to Miranda Lambert—I love that song!) forever, and once the newness and excitement wears off, and the young groom is close to Emma, living with her day in and day out, her husband is going to see that something’s not right. Eventually, the marriage will end in disaster, but of course, nothing will be Emma’s fault.

I was discussing this with a friend, who knew Emma a few years ago, and I guess after everything Phill and Emma put me through, I’ve come a long way. I was telling her that I don’t even feel like I’m missing anything by not attending Emma’s wedding because I feel like the whole thing is such a farce. Her marriage is just the countdown until the first divorce. Or, as my friend put it, it’s the countdown until the next train wreck.

Emma will have her wedding day, her pretty dress, her handsome groom, her wedding gifts, her honeymoon, and she will be the star of the show. But just wait until Act Two.

Special thanks to Face in Hole for the fun website!  Emma and I used to do those Jib Jab things where you put the face in (or the dog’s face!) and when I saw this site, I thought this was the kind of thing we would have sat there and played with, laughing hysterically as we made funny pictures.

Since I won't be attending Emma's wedding, I couldn't help making a few bridal pictures. Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey

Since I won’t be attending Emma’s wedding, I couldn’t help making a few bridal pictures. This one reminds me of Hillary Clinton.  Sorry, Emma, I know you would hate that comparison! Emma Roey, Emma Katherine Roey, Emma Kate Roey