I never have actually followed through with the divorce. I know I know. I am reminded in a million ways on a million days that I need to do so. At first I didn't because I was terrified to be in the same room with her. That's silly I know but that's what I was feeling so many years ago. Then as my shock and fear subsided I realized that the money needed to finish the process in court which I started in family court & then continued into child welfare court would be too difficult for us to handle.
Over the last year or so as I have become more comfortable financially and the prospect of heading back to court doesn't seem so daunting I have been struck with still another issue playing a role in the when to finish the divorce quandry. Provided that I can even locate L to divorce her I am not at all clear that I want to do so. It seems fairly obvious that by going back to court and declaring her in default I will be somehow someway bringing her back into my life.
I would be happy if she never came around again to be sure. So how do I finish this without giving her another open door into my life again? And it has occurred to me recently that such a decision really involves K now because she has a stake in this much more than she did when she was very young. Now she will be the one to bear the brunt of her mother's chaos and destruction if my actions to complete the divorce somehow bring L back to Los Angeles.
I have to talk to K about this before I make any moves. How I wish I could just wave my magic wand and then our legal relationship would be completely dissolved in the way every other type of relationship we've had has been.
Back to my point: you recieved a present from your aunt and uncle for your 8th birthday. In the present they included a note to me. The note caused me a great deal of stress for a couple of reasons. First of all if they wanted to send me something they could very well have done it without getting you involved. Including you in this note strikes me as passive-aggressive and definately not in your best interest. Issues related to your mother and her health are best parsed out in a time and place which is safe for you. Including a note about your mom's potential whereabouts and/or attempts to find us in your birthday present is just plain wrong.
Of course I would no doubt not have gotten terribly upset about it if it weren't for the contents of the note. Essentially they said "Hey your mom is looking for you and has come out to LA to find you. Too bad she hasn't been successful. Is there something you'd like to tell her?"
The ways in which this is sheer nonsense continue to amaze me. If your mother wanted to find us there are at least four distinct ways in which she knows how to contact us. That she would make up these stories to your aunt and uncle about the sacrifices she has made to find us is just completely appalling. What it shows is that the is still trying to manipulate anyone and everyone who comes in contact with her.
I tried to convey this to your aunt and uncle but to no avail. They say she is not being manipulative. As I know from your conversations with Grandma you understand how L's telling stories about coming to LA is a bunch of nonsense. I am proud of you for that. Hopefully someday she will actually try to reenter our lives in some productive and loving manner but it certainly isn't now and under these circumstances.
Most of all I am proud of you because you know all of this and you want her back so you can have a mom like everyone else. But you also understand that I will not allow her to abuse you (or us) in the same manner ever again. You're the greatest kid in the world!
When you were a baby we had a schedule.
Your mother would go to school in the morning. At 11am I would take you to UCLA to have lunch with her. You and I were great bus buddies. You had this great smile all the time. You watched everyone from your perch and everyone returned your gaze. You had the greatest time by dropping your hat on the ground. We had a lot of hats lost.
In New York City you found your stride when you got a whole car of stopped subway travelers to clap with you. Everyone around us seemed to meld into to this really comfortable happiness, everyone was present for you in that one moment clapping with you, a baby, the car lurched - the moment broken.
At UCLA we'd get off the bus and walk the paths to the spot we met your mom. It was often nice. You always loved it. She was very gentle with you. Her face lit up when she gazed on you. It took my breath away to see how happy you made her.
These lunches though became more and more tiresome as the weeks went by. When we were together she would only talk about her political trials of the day, of the schemes which others were imposing on her, the duplicitous nature of her colleagues and professors.
When we were together at these lunches it was increasingly rare to hear so much as an acknowledgement of how difficult it was to get a newborn across town on the bus on a regular schedule. No thank you's. None were needed of course, but it would have been really nice for us to both acknowledge the trials and accomplishments of the other.
Unfortunately I was alone in that sentiment.
I hope that someday when K is ready to handle all of this that I will be there to show her everything and share all of the stories. But as I get older I realize more and more that I just may not be around when K is old enough to really ask the questions she'll need to ask. So these stories may be the only connection she'll have with this lost part of her childhood.
And perhaps, this is the very tricky part, L, K's mother, will or is actually reading this. The fear enters through this door because I know what she is capable of. I know she doesn't know where we physically are right now. She hasn't for over a couple of years now. It would be a terrible mistake on my part if she were to find us. I hardly could afford to move again, much less go back to court. But I know myself well enough to recognize that the 4th wall will compell me to put down the stories in spite of my own aversion, fears, or apathy.
I want K to know her mother in all of her beauty. Her black crochet sweater with black sleeves too long. The way her eyes sparkled when she talked about one of her many passions. Her laughter at her own issues & foibles. The way Russian fell from her lips like beautiful curling flowers. God I loved her.
I want K to know know her mother in all of her unfortunate ugly moments as well. The way her eyes rolled back in her head. Nude she contorted, her back arched unaturally, on the examining table. Her gown strewn in pieces on the cold linoleum at the floor. Masturbating herself, she moaned, with a thin white foam slicing down her face at the corner of her mouth.
At the door stood a county cop in a green. He ignored me. I turned away to search for my missing daughter.
I went to the meetup and met a girl. She's sweet. I dig her.
I asked her out. We had an english tea for brunch. During the meal I realized that she looked strikingly similar to my ex-wife, L.
I have been recovering from that relationship for six years now. Everyone tells me I should go out and date. Or rather noone says anything but if I make mention of dating it comes rushing out of their lips like a pent up river. This felt so natural to meet this girl and talk to her and want to see her again. I dig this girl. When I saw her first I felt my face lit up, as did hers.
I talked to a friend, Suz, about sitting across from this girl and suddenly recognizing her. Suz was encouraging, but to be honest it startles me. That I should decide to ask out someone who looks so much like this women I spent all these years with and yet not recognize this similarity at the time really frustrates me. Suz said that it was a good thing I was able to notice this at all. She said that it shows how I've managed to put myself back together again in the last 6 years.
To me it shows me how far I have yet to go.
In my usual rush for full disclosure I talked to my parents about these events. I could feel the shudder come through the highway open window cellphone when I mentioned my daughter's mother's name.
I could feel the shudder in myself when I realized I had not noticed this similarity. It is curious how we forget or blinder ourselves in reframing the past. I think I had genuinely forgotten what L had looked like.
This girl is very interesting. She's a reporter. Her observations are so acute that its obvious she is very smart. She's extremely sexy. Nice ass. |
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