Tag Archives: SEFF

The Car, the Card, and the Kitten

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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 current husband, Tyler Buchheim 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.   Emma and Tyler are the parents to two little dogs, Arya and Sansa.  (Emma is a huge Game of Thrones fan.)  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.

 

Part One, The Card (So, I went out of order.  Sue me.)

(There’s some alliteration for you, Emma. Remember learning that when we homeschooled?”)

Ok, so this post isn’t really about Emma, it’s just about life. Since a lot of you are estranged parents, divorced, struggling, and so on, you will get this. It’s just the daily things. The adventures in singledom. I once had a husband who took care of a lot of things and didn’t want me to handle the banking, the bills, the investments, the retirement, etc., and to be honest, I didn’t like dealing with car stuff or workmen on my own. I preferred Phill to be home if someone were coming to the house.

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Emma and Phill at SEFF.  Southeast Electric Flight Festival

The cars were always in Phill’s name, and he always took care of the registration during his birthday month (March 21, 1958—my husband just turned 60!), except for a couple of times when he didn’t. One time, I was driving Emma to private school—-about 24 miles one way—the price we pay for trying to do what’s best for our children (sigh), and I got pulled over and got a ticket because Phill had forgotten to renew the registration. I was embarrassed and thought it had to be a mistake, but it wasn’t. Phill just forgot. Later, I asked him how much the ticket was, and he said, “You don’t want to know.” and I never did ask again. I looked it up these days, and it’s about $125-135. I don’t know why Phill said I didn’t want to know. I had assumed it was a lot more than that. Emma, I think, was in kindergarten. She was still in a childseat, and I remember the officer handing me the ticket and telling me that he appreciated that I had my child buckled in safely. I guess it’s always good to give someone a compliment when you’re about to ruin their day.

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Later on, Emma had made her big announcement of being sexually molested by the priest on Phill’s birthday, March 21, 2010, Phill was so distracted by everything that was going on, dealing with the church, the police, and poor Emma who was traumatized by her “repressed memories,” Phill forgot again and I got stopped again. I was driving down Hwy 124, near Mill Creek High School, when the police pulled over everyone. There were a bunch of police cars there. Spike, my lab/mix was in the back seat, hanging his head out the window, and I think the only reason I didn’t get a ticket was because Spike was a big, friendly goof and the police officer seemed to like him. For whatever reason, he let me go without a ticket that time.

Fast forward to April of 2018. I am having some car trouble, and my car is stuck in 2nd Gear (which will be Part 2 of the story, The Car.) so I can’t drive it on the highway, and I’m driving back roads to work and being jerked around by the car dealer on when my car parts will be in. This was actually sort of a blessing in disguise because it is spring, flowers and trees are blooming, and I live in a rural area with a lot of horse farms. It was such a pretty drive, that I didn’t miss going down the highway, even though it took a little longer,  With the car problems, even on back roads, I was usually going about 30mph, and I know people were pulling up behind me wondering what the heck was wrong with this old lady who’s driving so slow. I wanted to dye my hair blue. I thought about putting a sign on the car that said, “Stuck in 2nd Gear” or “Go Around” and then I thought both “2nd Gear” and “Go Around” would make good names for a rock band.

On this little country road, I take for most of the 13 mile trip to my job, there is 3-way stop. One morning, I was going in to work late, about 1030am, when I noticed the police conducting a traffic stop at the 3-way stop. I thought this a little odd at this time of day because there wasn’t much traffic on this little road. It just didn’t seem like a busy enough road to have a traffic stop on, but what do I know?

As I pull up and stop on this beautiful spring morning, I roll down the window, and a young officer comes up and tells me they are just checking licenses and insurance. “Oh, ok. Sure.” I pull out my license and hand it to him. The officer takes my license and walks behind my car like he’s looking at the plate, with my license. I really wondered what he was doing, but wasn’t going to ask. He comes back and hands me my license and asks for my insurance card. Figuring that that was what he was going to ask, I had already opened my glove box and pulled out a stack of papers.

As I said, Phill always took care of the car stuff, so since Phil had me thrown out of our Buck Trail, Hoschton home in April of 2011, I had always just stuck whatever car stuff there was in the glove box. Every-time I got a new insurance card, I put it in the glove box, and the same with my registration, the owners’s manual, or anything else that had to do with the car.

I pull out a wad of paper and grab one on top and hand it to the officer. “Here’s my insurance card.”

“Ma’am, this card is from 2015.” (I love southern officers. They are so polite.)

“Oops. Ok, wait a minute.”

I flip through the paper and see on that has the correct year on it and hand it to him. “Here it is.”

“Ma’am, this is your registration.”

He hands it back to me, and I look at it. Yep, he’s right. I start flipping through all these papers. “I know it’s here. I remember putting it in the car. Apparently I don’t throw anything away.”

The officer says, “That might be a good thing.”

(Pause……………………………………………………)

“Ma’am, I’m just going to take your word for it.”

I was dressed professionally and wearing my name badge, so it’s not like I looked like some bum, but I really wanted to find that card.

“No, wait a minute. I know it’s here. Here’s 2016. Here’s 2017. Wait. I’m getting closer.”

“Ma’am it’s ok. You can go.”

“But I know it’s here.”

“Really ma’am, you can go. Just make sure you have it in the car when you get home tonight.”

I always thought the police could check your insurance with either your license plate or your driver’s license, but I don’t know and thought it was probably best not to ask, so I drove on it to work, and when I got there, I flipped though all those papers and found it! Sure enough, I did have it!  I almost wanted to turn around and drive back to show it to him.

To be continued……………..Part Two will be, The Car—- and dealing with car dealers, or being a woman in a man’s world, or……… In the end, there was a great service manager who knew I’d been treated poorly and he took over and made things right, but boy was it two weeks worth of aggravation!

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.

 

Moving Madness and Why I Gave Phill Our Home

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

Moving Madness and Why I Gave Phill Our Home

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

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

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

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

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

So the boxes sit.

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

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

Phillgarden

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

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

Phillsuit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

 

Denial Dad! And What’s Your Superpower?

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Denial Dad! And What’s Your Superpower?

A lot of people have asked me over the past few years, “What happened to Phill?” “What is wrong with Phill?” and many more questions along those lines. Well, Phill is really the only one who can answer that, but I can give you my perspective after being married to the man for 26+ years. Phill was a good person, and I never thought in a million years he would do some of the things he did, and I surely thought, after realizing his mistake, Phill would take the appropriate action. But, like a lot of men, Phill has a lot of trouble admitting he’s wrong, and let’s face it, accusing your wife of abusing your daughter and destroying your marriage because of it is one heck of a mistake to make.

I wanted to share what it it like to deal with Phill through some recent e-mails. A while back, Phill and I were texting and when I brought up a subject Phill was uncomfortable with, he threatened to block me, which I’m assuming he did. I haven’t tried to text him in a while, so I don’t know for sure. At the time, I assumed he blocked me from his e-mails as well.

Recently, I misplaced a check and forgot all about cashing it. At the same time, a friend and I’d been talking about how I used to do some beadwork (you can see it on my facebook page, and if your are interested, just e-mail me and I’ll send you the album links), and I sort of wished I had my old desk and maybe I’d take up my old hobby again. I told her that I’d asked Phill two or three years ago for my desk, but he just ignored me. She told me to ask him for it, and knowing about Phill’s difficulty with facing his wife, suggested that she could go over and pick up my desk for me. I’d already told Phill that he could have all my stuff, and if you’re curious about that part of the story, just do a search for Bradley D. Moody, and you can read all about Phill and how he came to keep all my things.

So anyway, back to my story, I came home and thought why not e-mail and ask for my desk, a birthday gift Phill got me from IKEA, but since Phill had probably blocked me, I was going to e-mail his newest attorney, Bradley D. Moody, Attorney at Law with Lee Sexton and Associates in Stockbridge, Ga.? And since Bradley D. Moody, son-in-law of Matt Klos, husband of Jessie Klos Moody, father to little Ella Moody, always uses his Bar# when he signs his correspondences, I was going to be sure to include Bar#655693.

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This picture of Rob, one of the kids from Emma’s youth group, but you can see part of the IKEA desk in the background.  It had some nice shelves.

I came home and got on the computer, and surprise, surprise, there, out of the blue, was an e-mail from my husband! It read as follows:

10/28/16

I reissued a check you didn’t cash back in July, it should be there in a few days. They’re only good for 90 days so it was automatically voided.

I never blocked my email so you don’t have to get creative if you need to get in touch.

Phill

So I responded:

Wow. Your ears must be burning. I was just about to email your “attorney” Bradley D. Moody, attorney at law #655693 to get in touch with you.

A while ago, I asked for the desk that you got me for my birthday from IKEA, and you never brought it. Can I send a “third party” to pick it up?

Oh, and since I have you, a friend re-did my computer with Windows 10, etc., but I lost my snip tool. (This has quite a learning curve, for me anyway.) Can you tell me the name of that program we had. I can’t seem to find it.

My best to Emma.

So…………….after all this time of no correspondence whatsoever from my dear husband, I get yet another e-mail the same day:

If you click on the Cortana button just to the right of the start(windows) button and start typing “snipping” the tool will show up.

http://www.techsupportalert.com/content/screenshot-captor.htm-1

The one we used to use is gone.

As to the desk, you have lost the rights to the items you didn’t pick up. I tried for years to get you to get the items in the settlement

Phill

Wow, what authority! He certainly told me, didn’t he! It’s a shame he never took that tone with Emma, or she might not have the problems she does. (Well, yeah, she probably would, I think she was born with some personality disorders and such, but we just didn’t figure it out.)

Ok, and so some of you reading this blog know me, and know I can be a very patient person when I need to be, but sometimes, just sometimes, I have a low tolerance for idiots, so I couldn’t resist getting a little bit snarky:

Okay, but would you please send me the copy of the Toxicology report that Emma claims to have showing that I poisoned her with DDT? My lawyer is still waiting on that.

Did you ever talk to Father T. about all those times Emma babysat his boys? And the time she had the called 911 because son #1 got so out of hand?

Lie after lie. What happens when you finally accept the truth in real life How badly you betrayed your wife? Don’t bother to answer. I won’t bother you again. I’ll go through your attorney for anything else.

Love, wifey number one. My best to Kim. (Kim Chassion, aka Mrs. Roey 2.0)

And if you’re new to the blog, let me just mention that yes, Emma was going around telling people I poisoned her with DDT, and Emma never babysat our priest’s sons, but knew the parents had to call 911 when their bipolar son got out of control one night, so she went around telling people that SHE had to call 911 one night when SHE was babysitting the boys. Funny thing is, Emma NEVER babysat those boys.

So once again, the threat:

I will answer emails regarding alimony and the property settlement. I also don’t mind tech support questions.

I will not respond to anything having to do with the grounds leading to the divorce. I warned you I’d block phone and text if you continued to harangue me and you chose to push it so I blocked you. If you do the same on email I’ll block that too, leaving only US mail. I’d prefer not to do that.

Phill

Poor Phill! Harangued! Threatening to block me again! Oh, my stars, what will I do? (I swear folks, he was not this stupid when I was married to him.) I brought up a subject that Phill can’t deal with, so he has to threaten to block me again. Horrors!  Funny, it was some SEFF folks who told me about Emma going around saying I poisoned her with DDT and she had the toxicology report to prove it, but my poor little snowflake of a husband can’t deal with that, so we are not allowed to discuss it.  Nope, can’t even bring it up.  Phill won’t explain Emma’s actions because he can’t, and he can’t face the truth, so let’s just not talk about it.  Now, that’s a real tough man right there, isn’t he?

At this point, I figured I’d just let Phill retreat to his “Safe Space” and get some counseling, some warm milk, and maybe a therapy dog. I didn’t want to stress the poor boy out any more than I already had. After all, if he can’t handle an e-mail and has to threaten to block me, he must really be upset. Poor baby. (I swear folks, he wasn’t this much of a wimp when I was married to him.) I didn’t e-mail Phill and further and decided if I needed to talk to him, I’d just do it through the blog or through his latest attorney, Bradley D. Moody, Attorney at Law, Bar #655693, the associate part of Lee Sexton and Associates of Stockbridge, Ga., son-in-law of Phill’s RC buddy, Matt Klos (Events Director of SEFF), wife of Jessie Klos Moody, father to Ella Moody, and as for computer help, I won’t bother the poor boy with that either, though I always need the help, but thankfully, I have other friends who are computer literate, as I am not!  (Usually, when I asked Phill to teach me something on the computer, he told me not to worry about it because he’d always be there to do it for me.)

This blog is really about Emma, and I’m not going to talk too much about Phill, or at least not now, other than how he relates to the story of Emma. We were married for 26 years, and up until Emma accused me (the 2nd time) of abuse, I thought we were happy. Phill always claimed to be happy, talked about retirement, and us doing things together after Emma was gone, etc. and was proud of our long marriage right up until he decided to have a midlife crisis in the middle of all Emma’s problems. I was totally blindsided by what my husband did and one day, I hope he’ll have the guts to explain to me what in the world he was thinking, but right now, he can’t face me (I am that scary!), or I guess to put it more clearly, he can’t face what he did, so the easiest way for him to deal with that is to not to have to face me, hence that’s why he wanted me to send a 3rd party to pick up my things at our home………………… I mean, I get the whole midlife crisis thing. I’ve known several women who’ve been through the same thing. There is always someone younger, cuter, slimmer, different issues, someone who hasn’t heard your same jokes and stories 1000 times, a bottle blonde as opposed to your salt and pepper haired wife…………. (funny thing is, Phill hated me coloring my hair and wanted me to let it go natural, and then he takes up with a bottle blonde?) But the Phill I was married to would not have let Emma go on with her lies. The Phill I was married to considered himself a secular humanist, a good person, and he would have not let an innocent person be falsely accused by his daughter, but now he’s done it with both the priest and with me. And for many other lie’s Emma’s told, Phill just makes excuses for her.  When Emma claimed the girl down the street had an abortion and she might be pregnant again, I later investigated and this girl told me none of it was true.  Instead of asking Emma about her lies, Phill chose to believe the girl told Emma these things to sound cool.  Emma couldn’t have possible made them up.  Somebody get the man a cape for Christmas!

I hope Phill survives this midlife personality shift he’s going through with a clear conscience. The man I was married to would have stood up and would have been a man, and would have done what’s right, but I don’t even know who this new Phill is.  I don’t think he does either.

And, BTW, Phill was wrong about the snip tool, I was able to get the exact one I had, which is great because I am a creature of habit and wanted to stick with the one I know.

As for the desk, that’s ok, Phill. I have new hobbies now and I’ll probably end up giving all my beading stuff away. I like to write now, and I still have a lot of Emma’s story to tell.

A Question of Timing

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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.

A Question of Timing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

emmajeffmeyers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emma Changes Churches **Updated 9/13/16

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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 and Holy Trinity Anglican Church

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This is one of those posts that is way out of order, so if you are one of my regular readers just skip down to the ************************ below while I give a brief introduction for my new readers as to what was going on at the time of which I’m writing about. I have 17 years of Emma’s life to write about, and then eventually, I will go back and put everything in order.

In late 2009, Emma had been really, really ugly to her dad, claiming her called her a “bitch” and a “slut” on a daily basis, saying she did not like the way her dad touched her, etc. Then, on her 16th birthday, Dec. 19, 2009, as Phill and I picked her up from her church youth group, Emma told us she’d received a call from her on-line friend, “Lacey” who lived in Dalton, Ga., and that “Lacey” had been raped and called Emma from the ER and was hysterical. Then the story changed to “Lacey” had tried to commit suicide after being raped.

A few months later, on her dad’s birthday, March 21, 2010, Emma told her dad and I that she had been molested by a priest when she was 12 and claimed that the catalyst for bringing up her repressed memories was “Lacey’s” rape and suicide attempt. Emma had been speaking to one of her church youth group leaders about her “molestation” and this woman had reported it to our church Deacon who go involved on Emma’s behalf and found out what we had to do formally to file a complaint with the church……………………….then the police and DFACS got involved……………………….and you can go back through the blog for more of that part of the story.

At the time, we’d gone to our church for maybe 10 years. I thought we had a church home where we would continue to go for years and years and that maybe one day my daughter would get married there. Emma was very involved in many activities at church: Sunday School (both going and then assistant teaching when she was in 9th grade), the children’s choir, VBS, the newsletter group, the youth group, serving as an acolyte and a lay reader….. anything she wanted to be involved in, Phill and I made sure she was able to be there.

During this time, Emma got her heart broken by a boy who was interested in her and then dropped her and was paying attention to another girl. She was also failing her on line physics class, and these two events may have contributed greatly to Emma making up the “molestation” story. Emma was always a good student as long as it was a subject she was interested in, so she should not have been failing, but at the time, I think Emma spent way too much time writing letters to “Lacey” and on-line chatting with “Lacey” and other students, and not doing her schoolwork.

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So, at this point, we’d filed a complaint with the church, dealt with the sheriff’s department, DFACS, Gwinnett Co. detectives, therapists, etc. Emma and I were the ones to make all the decisions about these things, with a lot of help and advice from our church Deacon who also wanted to see this situation handled properly. Phill was very passive and left everything to me to decide how to handle things. I would try to talk things over with him, but he never voiced any opinion about how we should proceed. It probably should have been something we worked together on, but he took a passive role. Of course, if Emma’s parents hadn’t been idiots, we would have investigated some of her stories and caught on to her lying a lot sooner, but that is water under the bridge. We certainly we not going to call up “Lacey’s” parents, whom we’d never met, and ask about the rape and suicide attempt. Even when we were going through the divorce, my attorney was very uncomfortable with getting in touch with “Lacey’s” parents just because if the story turned out to be true, it seemed like such an intrusion into the family. Later on, when my attorney discovered how much Emma had lied about, he didn’t feel like you could trust anything Emma said, and Phill’s attorney had issues with Emma as well.

So……………………we are cruising along with all this drama. We went to church sporadically, and Emma pretty much quit going. Because of the way the church handled, or seemingly ignored our complaint (The incident was reported in March, and we did not hear from anyone until the Bishop came to our home in July to speak with us.) I was not comfortable going to our church anymore either. Phill was ambivalent and would go to church if I was going, but had no opinion about anything either way.

We pretty much quit going to church, and then Emma visited a few churches, checking out the youth Sunday School classes, and she continued to go to the youth group at 12 Stone church at Hamilton Mill in Buford Ga., but she didn’t want to go to church there. It was a huge church, and very different than what we were used to. One of the things that bothered Emma was that some of the modern churches had no icons. It was like walking into an auditorium. There wasn’t a cross to be seen.

Another story that was interesting was when Emma went to visit Hamilton Mill Methodist Church. I had dropped Emma off for Sunday School and then she went to church and I met her afterwards. I don’t remember Emma’s specific complaints about the Sunday School class. It was something fairly mild like they just sat around a table and didn’t do anything, but the more interesting comments came after she went to church. If you remember the story about the couple that Phill and I played cards with, and how Emma did not like their son and later claimed he destroyed a book that belonged to her, thus pretty much ending the friendship between the parents, Emma claimed that this family was sitting in front of her at church. (Oh, my! Emma could not go to church there! Since her arch enemy was her age, they would be in the same Sunday School class! She simply could not have that!) I thought this was odd because they had left our church and had been attending another church, in Sugar Hill, Ga., when we were still friends, and I knew they were quite happy where they were going. Another reason I questioned this story was because I knew this family, and if they came to church, they usually attended Sunday school as well. It’s possible they could have changed churches again, but I always wondered if Emma made up this story just because she did not like Hamilton Mill Methodist for whatever reason.

NOTE: Had I to do it over again, I wish now we’d sat Emma and the young man down together and not let either one go until we got the truth out of who destroyed Emma’s book. It’s sad that a friendship between parents ended based on the lies of a child. This is another example of how much control and power we inadvertently gave to Emma.

One day we visited Holy Trinity Anglican Church in Flowery Branch, Ga.

www.holytrinityflowerybranch.org

Holy Trinity was a very small church, but the liturgy was very similar to what we were used to, so of course it was very comfortable to us. (Phill was not interested in participating in finding a new church and pretty much left it up to Emma and me. He would go when we decided where we wanted to go, but he was not going to visit churches and participate in deciding where we would like to go for worship. )

After a couple of visits, Emma and I liked Holy Trinity, but it was hard for me to leave my old church behind. Being somewhat of an introvert, it took me a long time to feel comfortable there, and I wasn’t eager to leave and start over somewhere else. My heart just wasn’t in it. I finally told Emma if she really wanted to go there we probably needed to talk to the pastor and let him know why we were looking for a church, so Emma called up Fr. George Ivey and told him her story. Emma got off the phone, and immediately told me that Fr. George knew the priest Emma had accused and said that when she told him about her “molestation,” even before she said who, Fr. George told her that that priest was the first person he thought of. I’m not sure what kind of bad blood there was between Fr. George and the other priest, but I do remember him telling us about when the Anglican Bishop visited and that priest refused communion from him.

Anyway, Fr. George wanted to meet with us, so Phill, Emma and I went to Fr. George and Paulette Ivey’s beautiful home in Buford, Ga. Sure enough, Emma wasn’t lying this time, Fr. George told us that when Emma told him about being “molested” the first person he thought of was the man Emma had accused.

Fr. George was comforting and supportive, and I felt better about going to a new church since he knew why we were looking for a new church home. Fr. George also got very involved with Emma’s drama, helping to find attorneys, going to interviews, etc.

We began attending Holy Trinity which meant Sunday School, then coffee, and then church. As I mentioned, the church was very small. Sunday School might consist of about 10 people and church might be about 20-25. There were only a few other teens, so there really wasn’t much to offer in the way of a youth group, but Emma didn’t mind. She seemed to prefer being around adults anyway. Partly, I think Emma preferred adults because adults were to eaisly impressed with how smart, polite, etc. she was. She gave a great first impression. (If you have read Dr. Richard Born’s Psychological Evaluation of Emma, you will remember that he mentioned she was not comfortable around her peers.)

Phill and I loved Fr. George’s Sunday School classes. He was the best Sunday School teacher we’d ever had. We felt bad that the church was so small and people were missing out on such interesting and informative classes. Fr. George was an extremely smart man and he had a passion for studying and learning and he generously shared his knowledge. While it wouldn’t have been near as lucrative as his business career, Fr. George would have made a great teacher. Paulette Ivey, however, was an elementary school teacher at Ivy Creek Elementary School, in Buford, Ga.

Things rolled along. Emma began serving as an acolyte at our new church……. Emma was still going to therapy, working on her “sexual molestation” and we were dealing with things with our old church. Fr. George knew someone who worked in, I believe it was the ER, in a hospital in Cumming, Ga., and had discussed Emma’s story with her. She had recommended an attorney firm nearby, and we set up an interview with them. Fr. George went with Phill, Emma, and I to meet two attorneys at this firm. They were interested in Emma’s story, but claimed not to have the “war chest” it would take file the lawsuit against the church.

It was around Oct. of 2010 that I said something to Emma about Allen Hunt. Allen Hunt was a Methodist minister (now Catholic) who had a radio program on WSB radio on Sunday evenings that I, and often Emma, enjoyed listening to. I knew he did work raising money for a home for abused children, and I wondered if he could help us. Emma asked me to write him, and I suggested she write to him as I thought it would mean more coming from her, the “victim.”

Now, Phill likes to say that I, the evil mommy, forced Emma to sit down and write an e-mail to Mr. Hunt. I can assure you that I did not, but I guess Phill can use his standby line that oh, yes I did, but I “blocked it out” and have no memory of forcing Emma to sit at the computer and compose and send an e-mail.

Emma happily wrote off an e-mail and sent it. We quickly received a reply from Mr. Hunt who recommended a place for counseling and who also recommended the firm of Cruiser and Mitchell in Norcross, Ga. Bill Mitchell was a personal friend of Allen Hunt’s and in fact, Mr. Hunt called Mr. Mitchell to tell him about Emma’s story. When I called to set up an appointment, Mr. Mitchell wanted to meet with us right away. I called Fr. George who dropped everything to meet us at the firm’s office.

Fr. George was a tremendous help in explaining the hierarchy of the church, rules, etc. to the attorneys. I won’t go into detailing that meeting again as I have already told that story. For those of you who haven’t read it, you will have to go back through earlier posts in the blog.

Not long after we started attending Holy Trinity, we went to the ordination of Bishop Foley Beach in Atlanta. Foley Beach had left the Episcopal church after the 2003 General Convention in which a homosexual, Gene Robinson was elected Bishop of the Diocese of New Hampshire. Bishop Robinson was the first openly gay priest to be consecrated in the Episcopal church, and for anyone in the church during this time, there was a lot of fall out over Bishop Robinson. Our particular church had been growing and had gone to three services on Sunday mornings, but after the General Convention and Bishop Robinson’s consecration, a lot of folks left the church, some temporarily, and some permanently. Our three services were cut to two, but could have easily been cut to one. I think they only kept the 8:30 (early service) for the people who wanted to come to church early so they could get on with their day. If you went to the 10:30 service, by the time you got out and got home, the day was half over, and the early risers didn’t want to waste their day.

Phill was working, but Emma and I went to Bishop Beach’s ordination along with our friend, Janice, who’d grown up as a neighbor of Foley Beach’s wife, Allison. Foley Beach had been the rector at St. Alban’s Epicopal Church in Monroe, Ga. until he left the church and then he became the rector at Holy Cross Anglican Church in Loganville before he became the Bishop.

Befoe meeting with Emma’s attorneys, Fr. George Ivey had spoken to Foley Beach and had told us that Foley Beach was meeting with the Episcopal church and that he would talk to Bishop Alexander about Emma. Just before the ordination of Foley Beach as Bishop, we had settled on Emma’s attorney, and I will never forget going through the receiving line, shaking hands with Bishop Foley Beach, and he said to Emma and I that he understood we were in good hands now, indicating we did not need his help. A short time later, I would be greatly disappointed in both Fr. George Ivey and Archbishop Foley Beach.

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Fr. George met Emma and I at the offfices of Cruiser and Mitchell, and we had an interview with Bill Mitchell and one of his associates, whom I believe was named Drew Ashby. The funny thing was, one of Phill’s RC buddies, Mike ( Mike Howell, I believe, but there were several Mikes in the RC group), had given Phill the name of an attorney for us to check out, and it happened to be Stephen Ashby, in Tucker, Ga., who was Drew’s father.

While Mr. Mitchell questioned Emma, Fr. George, and me, Drew Ashby took a lot of notes. At one point, I remember Emma stepped out, and Mr. Mitchell wanted to talk to me without Emma. (Hey, Dr. Richard Born, are you listening? This is something you missed when you did your Psych Eval on Emma!) Emma did a great job, acted very professional and mature as she acted out her drama for the attorneys. She explained how her friend “Lacey’s” rape was the catalyst for her remembering her own molestation when she was 12 years old. She went into detail about the priest following her into the women’s bathroom, pulling down her panties, and sticking a finger into her vagina. She answered all the attorneys questions confidently and was very composed. A couple of things that stood out to me from this session:

Mr. Mitchell said he would need to speak to Phill because often times when a child falsely accusess someone of sexual abuse, they are doing it to cover up the fact that it is someone close to them who molested them. (I have to wonder if this was where Emma got the idea to accuse her mother of abuse. Maybe one day, Emma will let me know.)

Mr. Mitchell mentioned that their firm takes one out of 1000 cases, and he wanted to take Emma’s case. He said he believed Emma and Drew believed Emma so strongly that he wasn’t sure Drew could be objective about Emma’s case.

Mr. Mitchell was firmly against the death penalty. As one who’s always favored the death penalty, when Mr. Mitchell talked about Project Innocence and explained his reasoning and cases he’d worked on, he gave me some things to think about after hearing his perspective.

When Fr. George asked how much we could expect to get from this lawsuit, Mr. Mitchell stated, “The sky is the limit.” His plan was to sue the priest, the church, and the diocese. He would have investigators look into the background of the priest, and they would have to interview Emma’s friend, “Lacey.” A short time later, Emma began making plans on how to spend her money. She could buy a car, use the money for college and would be able to afford to go away to college and not have to live at home, etc. She got a little giddy about her prospective windfall, and that worried me A LOT. I tried to explain to her that this was not about the money, that it was about punishing someone who did something very wrong.

After the interview, Emma and I felt very confident about the situation and indeed felt like we were in good hands. We walked outside with Fr. George and he stood with us in the parking lot and prayed before we all went separate ways.

As Emma and I were leaving, I asked her if she was ok with the attorneys talking with “Lacey” and Emma said she was. She said she had told “Lacey” that we were meeting with the attorneys and that they might need to speak with her and that “Lacey” was ok with it. (At this point, I did not know the whole story of “Lacey” being raped and attempting suicide was one of Emma’s big lies.) Emma had been worried about having to face her “sexual abuser” in court, but after meeting with Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Ashby, Emma said to me, “You know mom, with these lawyers helping me, I could testify in court!”

Emma was almost jubilant as we drove home. She had done a convincing job and had two attorneys that believed her. I guess she was proud of her performance. After dealing with the church attorney the month before (another post I need to write) who was quite unpleasant, I felt comfortable that we had someone looking out for our, but especially for Emma’s best interests.

Just after this meeting, I had to get some papers notarized and faxed back to the attorneys offices. Phill and I rushed around like mad and went to meet a friend from the ladies Bible study that Emma and I attended because she was a notary. I remember us dropping everything to meet her at the Braselton Cracker Barrel on her way home from work so that we could sign and she could notarize. No big deal to Emma that her parents were doing all this for nothing. Emma already knew the lawsuit would have to be stopped and she was working on her plan for stopping it. I hate thinking of how much time and energy was wasted by all parties on Emma’s little drama. Not just my time, but the time of the police, DFACS, social workers, the church, whom I’m sure all had better things to do than take a role in a 16 year old girl’s drama.

If you’ve read the blog, you know that just as Mr. Mitchell was about to file Emma’s lawsuit, Emma had Dr. Elizabeth (Genie) Burnett call the police to say Emma was being abused by her Mother (dramatic music playing in the background). You can read the police report earlier in the blog. I’m not going to rehash that here. I’ve already told that part of Emma’s story, but I wanted to tell about the church’s involvment, particularly Fr. George Ivey’s involvement in Emma’s drama.

In March of 2011, when Emma pulled her, “I want to live in a group home.” at the office of Suzie McGarvey, one of her many therapists, Phill fell apart and couldn’t handle Emma’s problems. Omigosh, his wife was a child abuser! What an idiot (ok that part is true) that it took him 17 years to see that! What an idiot that he had lived with this woman for over 28 years and he never knew she was violent! He had to have a divorce! And besides, there were other fish in the sea!

When Phill turned on me and decided to support Emma, I had no idea what was to come, that Phill would take out a TPO and have me thrown out of my home. My thoughts were to save my family and my marriage. I suspected there was something deeper going on. At this point I hadn’t discovered all Emma’s lies. I didn’t know that “Lacey” wasn’t actually raped, didn’t attempt suicide, her mother didn’t almost die of breast cancer, or that Emma had lied about many, many other things. I was trying to save my family. Even though I was angry at Phill for being so stupid, I thought surely he would come to his senses (boy was I wrong there!).

Phill and I discussed meeting with Fr. George for counseling, and if you’ve read the blog, Phill did go to on therapy session to try to save his marriage. I had talked to Fr. George after Emma accused me of abuse, and he told me he would never believe it. He’d been through his own drama with his two son’s and their addiction/substance abuse problems. Paulette had even told us about one time when he knocked down the bedroom door to their son’s room.

Fr. George told me he saw us every week in church, and he’d noticed how much Emma leaned on me, rested her head on my shoulder, held my hand, put her arm around me, grabbed my arm and put it around her, etc. She was such a touchy feely kid towards me, there was no way he believed she was abused.

After Phill had me thrown out of our home, Fr. George changed his mind about meeting with us about counseling. I knew there’d been a divorce where he’d tried to counsel the couple, and he was called to testify at the divorce. I didn’t know the couple and didn’t know anything about the divorce. I got an e-mail from Fr. George saying he did not want to get involved and one of the funny things I remember was that he mentioned that they tried to make him perjure himself. I thought it kind of funny that he spelled perjure wrong.

This was one of my biggest disappointments in Fr. George Ivey. He knew our family was in crisis. He did not believe Emma, and we were parishioners at his church. I always thought a priest was supposed to care for his flock. Fr. George seemed to care more about the thought of possibly being inconvenienced with his fear of having to testify in another divorce case than he cared about a family in his church. That hard to fathom. I lost all respect for Fr. George after this. I know priests/pastors are human and just as flawed as the rest of us, but I thought caring for your parishioners was part of the job. It seemed that Fr. George just wanted to lecture and stand in front of his church, but God help him if he actually had to get his hands dirty.

Because of the TPO, I could no longer attend church if Phill and Emma were there. My only hope was to get Phill to counseling, so that he could realize Emma had some problems, but Phill decided there was too much water under the bridge and he didn’t want to be married to me anymore. He had no desire to fix our family or our marriage. And besides, SEFF was the following month, and he sure wasn’t going to miss that!

I also sent a letter to Archbishop Foley Beach, since he’d been aware of our drama, explaining what was going on. I got a nice little card from him saying I was in his prayers. (Much easier than actually getting involved.)

To be continued…………

Bradley D. Moody, Attorney at Law, Lee Sexton and Associates

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(Sorry Folks, had to move this post to insert some other things I was working on when I was so rudely interrupted by Mr. Moody’s Letter.)

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.

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Phillip Thomas Roey, before he got all cool, made new friend and stuff and dumped his old wife.

A Letter From My Husband (AKA Moving the girlfriend/new wife in.)

Well, I guess it’s not really a letter from Phill, but a letter from his attorney. Well……..I guess it’s not really his attorney. Let me point out some interesting things about the letter.
First off, the return address:

Bradley D. Moody
Attorney at Law
320 Corporate Center Court
Stockbridge, Georgia 302981

Hmmm, no mention of the law firm Mr. Bradley Moody works for. And why the extra number in the zip code?

Actually, Mr.Bradley Moody, Attorney at Law (I’m surprised he didn’t use “Esq.” after his name.) works for Lee Sexton and Associates and the address should read:
Bradley D. Moody
Lee Sexton and Associates P.C.
320 Corporate Center Court
Stockbridge, Georgia 30281

Since Lee Sexton and Associates P.C. is a criminal defense attorney, I wonder why Mr. Bradley Moody is taking on a lowly family court action? Doesn’t that seem a little beneath them?

Now, let’s go on to the letter, shall we? If you look at the address at the top, Mr. Moody’s legal secretary did not capitalize my street name (3 places) nor did she capitalize the town I live in.

With all the typos, I would question the abilities of the legal secretary at Lee Sexton and Associates, but hey, I make a few typos myself. (By the way Brad, if you are looking to hire a new secretary, I might be interested in a career change. Give me a call.)

Before I get to the heart of the letter, look at the signature. Well, the signature isn’t that impressive, but look below the signature:
Georgia Bar No. 655693

Ok, I’m a simple person and not very sophisticated, basically a WalMart kind of girl. I have a little bit of smarts (and a great sense of humor), but am no genius, and I certainly don’t have the years of schooling that an attorney would have. I don’t even really understand what a hashtag is for.  I also didn’t have a lot of experience with attorneys until my husband falsely accused me of child abuse and filed for divorce. I had no choice but to hire an attorney.  Up until then, other than for things like signing papers when buying a house and a few John Grisham and Lisa Scottoline novels, that’s pretty much the extent of my experience with attorneys. (I am currently listeing to John Grisham’s, The Litagators, and Brad, you remind me of some of the characters.)

I’ve shown this letter around, and no one that I know has ever seen an attorney sign a letter with their Georgia Bar number. I’m not sure why Mister Moody threw that in there. Just to look impressive I guess, or maybe to look authoritative? “ME! Important Attorney. YOU! Little housewife.”

Ok, now, let’s get to the meat of the letter. Mr. Roey has retained “our firm.” Hmmm. Again, if Phill had retained the firm of Lee Sexton and Associates, wouldn’t Mr. Moody have used their letterhead? And wouldn’t the return address on the envelope have read “Lee Sexton and Associates” in the very first line?

Onward.  It says Mr. Roey has retained the firm of Lee Sexton and Associates to declare the property awarded to me in the divorce ABANDONED.  It also says I could also be liable for storage fees to Mr. Roey.

Don’t you love lawyers? Gotta get that threat in there. I could be “liable for storage fees to Mr. Roey.”

Let me just mention something about the divorce. I know many of my readers have been through it, so I’m sure some of you know a lot more about it than I do.
There’s a radio commercial for men going through divorce that tells guys not to leave their home because that gives the wife the advantage. BUT, if you throw your wife out of the house, YOU have the advantage.

My daughter had made up lies about a friend being raped and attempting suicide and then claimed to have been molested by a priest. Then, when she was about to be caught in her lies, my daughter accused ME of abusing her. My husband turned into an idiot and threw me out of my home. Devastated is an understatement. The STUFF in my home was not on my priority list.

I did try to go over once and take inventory of stuff, but Phill was so offended that I brought a friend that he had to have Judy Hall, our neighbor come over as a witness for him. Phill, honey, I never accused you of anything. You are the one that accused me of abuse and went along with Emma’s lies. My attorney told me not to even drive by the house without a witness because Emma would make up something like accusing me of threatening her. (Like she made up the story of a car that looked like mine stopping in her driveway on the night she knew I would be going to Bible Study down the street.)

When my friend and I went to the house, I picked up a few things that were mine and put them in the car. When I picked up a picture that Emma had made( and I had framed) because I wanted it, Phill had a fit, told me to leave, and threatened to call the police.

Emma had made the picture in a printing class some years earlier and brought them to me one day because she was going to throw them away. She also gave me the press she had carved to make the picture. (I put it on the bookcase on the sunporch, Phill, sweetie, if you happen to see it.) She was cleaning up her room, and I had loved the prints and wanted to keep them and the press. I laid 3 of the prints together and figured out what size mat I would need, and when we went to IKEA, I got the frame with the mat to fit and came home and framed the three prints, overlapping, so they look like one picture.
Phill had all Emma’s photos and all Emma’s artwork, and he was going to deny me one piece that I had saved.  There were also other copies of the prints, so he could have framed his own.  He also had the press, so could have easily had Emma make more copies.

Anyway, as the divorce went on, and when we came to property, I started making a list of things I wanted from the house. In my emotional state, I couldn’t even think of things I wanted from the house. Of course, this was during the stress of the divorce and I was breaking out in hives every day, on medication for anxiety, etc……

I made a list of stuff and gave it to my attorney, and he sent it to Phill’s attorney. Phill’s attorney sent it back with items crossed out, and I made another list and gave it to my attorney who sent it to Phill’s attorney, and the list came back with more items crossed out. I thought the whole thing was ridiculous, and, as I said, I did not care about the stuff. I didn’t even look at the newest list of crossed out items, but instead told my attorney that Phill could have the stuff. I just didn’t care. After all, during the marriage the things we bought were “ours” but most men who are married to a lowly housewife/mother and who are going through a divorce change their view to “my money” bought those things.

The next paragraph tells me that I have 15 days from receipt of the letter to arrange to have a third party pick up my property. Phill had to get an attorney to do this? Well, yes he did. Phill can’t face me. He knows all about Emma’s lies. He knows she’s made up other things and gone around telling people I poisoned her with DDT, but if he doesn’t see me, he doesn’t have to deal with me. If he had to deal with me, he would have to deal with the truth, and if Phill dealt with the truth, he would then have to deal with all the friends and family who have supported him and Emma and turn around and tell them he made a terrible mistake accusing his wife of child abuse. Phill is not strong enough to do this. He wants people to like him and to admit he made such a colossal mistake would be more humiliating than he could bear.   Phill’s mantra is: “I don’t want you to hate me.” He couldn’t bring himself to email or text me, so he had to have an attorney write for him. He can’t handle me coming to my (former) home, so it has to be a third party that picks up the things. I have to admit, Phill is a coward.  The man who I thought would do whatever he had to to take care of his family failed miserably.  All Emma had to do was threaten to run away, and he had no interest in getting to the truth. He threw out his wife for his daughter and let her take over as woman of the house.

Being a simple girl, and not understanding “lawyerese” (I do understand Pig Latin though.), I had to look up the part about “filing a condemnation action.” Here is what I found:

condemnation action
n. a lawsuit brought by a public agency to acquire private property for public purposes (schools, highways, parks, hospitals, redevelopment, civic buildings, for example), and a determination of the value to be paid. While the government has the right to acquire the private property (eminent domain), the owner is entitled under the Constitution to receive just compensation to be determined by a court.
So, I guess Phill gets my things by eminent domain?  Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, the next time you pick on someone, you might want to dumb down your letters for us little ol’ housewives who don’t understand the big words.

Also in this paragraph, there he goes again: Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, has to threaten the little ol’ housewife again “to seek damages for storage for four years AND attorney’s fees.” Oh, my. Do you like being a bully, Mr. Moody? I bet the John Marshall School of Law would be quite proud of you. You flex your muscles and puff out your chest to intimidate a little ol’ housewife. That takes some real intestinal fortitude right there.

Now, let’s look at Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law’s closing. “Please reach out to my office…”  (For those of us old enough to remember, I will hum “Reach Out and Touch Someone” in the background.  You can use your imagination to hear it.) The interesting thing is that Mr. Moody never mentions the name of his office, and only types the address on an envelope without said name, AND Mr. Moody encloses no telephone number. I guess Mr. Bradley Moody is afraid to talk to me too, so he wants me to write to him.  Or maybe we are to communicate telepathically?   Nor did Mr. Bradley Moody enclose an email address.   Phill must have told him some pretty scary stuff.  Or maybe, just maybe, Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, doesn’t want me calling the office of Lee Sexton and Associates.  Now, now,  Mr. Bradley Moody, I do know how to use Google.

Don’t you like how Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, threatens me not once, but twice in the letter and then closes with, “With kindest regards……??????” I get the warm fuzzies just thinking about it.

So, Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law’s firm of Lee Sexton and Associates is now representing my husband? Hmmmm, or are they? Actually, Mr. Lee Sexton has an impressive Bio as he’s appeared on shows like 48 Hours, Dateline, Court TV and Oprah. Brad, I hope you learn a lot at your job there, and have some great experiences, but it doesn’t look like Lee Sexton and Associates is representing my husband.

I also discovered that Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, is the son-in-law of Phill’s friend, Matt Klos, of Peachtree City, Ga., and married to Jessie Klos Moody, Matt’s daughter and father to Matt Klos’ precious little granddaughter. Matt Klos took over Jeff Meyers’ job as events director at SEFF (Southeast Electric Flight Fetstival http://www.seffweek.com   Matt is also a Designated Airworthiness Representative and an ASI instructor)the big RC event that Phill attends every year, and the last I heard,  is a member of the Fayette Flyers http://www.fayetteflyers.com , along with many other RC buddies of Phill’s. ( Oh, and just a note to all the RC nerds, both the SEFF site and the Fayette Flyers site seem to have a problem. If you go to the site, it gives you a warning NOT to go to the site because these sites might download malicious software to your computer. You guys might want to fix that.  Your Welcome.)

Matt Klos has another daughter, Jenny Klos, a Pharmacy student at Mercer University, who worked at SEFF along with Emma, and if you remember, Emma complained bitterly about the other girls NOT working. I heard a lot about this after the events, I guess because since I hadn’t been there, Emma could embellish her stories to her heart’s content  and I would never know what was true and what wasn’t. The girls did nothing but drive golf carts around and dress like sluts. (Well, Emma, it was usually pretty hot down there, and not everyone has your strict moral dress code of 3 inches below the collar bone and 3 inches above the knee. In fact, from some photos I’ve seen of you, you don’t even live up to that code that you decided was for good Christian girls like yourself.

So, the big question is, did Phill hire Lee Sexton and Associates or did he hire Bradley Moody, attorney at law?  Not that Bradley Cooper, attorney at law can’t moonlight a little bit on the side.

And since we’re talking about my belongings, which is certainly not ½ of the household, but only those things which Phill allowed me to have, I will say that Phill and I have been through this before. Phill has our truck (if he still has it), so I don’t really have a vehicle to go pick up my things. Also, Phill threw his wife out of her home, so I feel like he is the one who needs to bring me my things. Phill knows the only things I want are some personal items. I live in a small house that is already furnished, and I don’t have room for my things. Phill knows what he owes me.

I told Phill a couple of times he could do what he wanted with my things, and at one point he threatened to haul everything down to the curb. I asked him not to do that, but to send the things to Goodwill or another charity instead. I have the e-mails telling Phill he could get rid of my things, so if Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law for Lee Sexton and Associates, wants to take me to court over storage (what storage? Phill put all my things in the garage.) and attorney’s fees. I have the proof that I relinquished Phill of any responsibility for my things quite some time ago, not to mention that the attorney’s fee’s I will owe Mr. Bradley Moody are probably the $50 or so that Phill paid him under the table and the $6.46 for the certified letter. I think I can swing that.

Now, Phill is ready to move on and I’m sure ready to move his girlfriend or wife-to-be, Kim Chassion into my home.  I hope you enjoy both my home and my husband, Kim.  A wife is so easily replaced, as is a soul mate. (Phill’s words, not mine. I was never comfortable with that phrase, just like Phill was the one who talked about renewing our vows after he listened to two audio books of Nicholas Sparks’ novels The Notebook and The Wedding.  I meant my vows the first time and always thought those vow renewal ceremonies were kind of silly.  But as I said, I’m not very sophisticated.) I wonder what Kim Chassion thinks of a man who lets his daughter go around telling people her mother poisoned her with DDT?

Or, I suppose Phill could be wanting to put the house on the market so he can move in with Kim Chassion.   Not too many women want to move into the house their hubby shared with his first wife.  Either way, no matter

I guess that’s it for now. Thanks for reading if you’ve made it this far, and to Mr. Bradley Moody, attorney at law, if I ever need a criminal defense attorney, I will certainly give the office of Lee Sexton and Associates a call.  You might want to give your contact information to our lovely daughter, Emma.  Oh, and I looked up the office, and it looks like a pretty little house down there in Stockbridge, Ga.  And for all the free publicity, you’re welcome.

Until next time, with kindest regards………….

A Letter From My Husband (Moved)

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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.

 

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