Christmas Eve

 

Here we go again. Back from the dead...

Where do I begin?  Well, my ex took care of me in our beautiful home on Mauna Lane, in Huntington Beach.  We got about 8 years together there, and that was amazing and he was amazing until one day, out out of now here, and I’m assuming it was  a push from Dave's parents, he suggested we move to Utah to be closer to his family.  Which meant a major move away from MY parents. I suggested we attend the temple, and while sitting in the celestial room I picked up the closest Book of Mormon and just flipped the page to my favorite scripture. 1 Nephi , Chapter 3 verse 7 and I felt this scripture's power.  We went home to  discuss this option with the kids and with a plan to fast on the decision of moving to Utah, everyone supporting the idea, other than Ella. Which we should have listened more carefully to.  Well, Dave’s family started looking at renting a home, they were over the moon about having all their family in one state, they found the most beautiful picturesque home in an incredible community called "Day Break."  It had three pools and it looked like it was straight out of the movie "Pleasantville."  Ours was an enormous home with everything - large closets, huge jacuzzi tub, an enormous shower and a view of the temple from our huge bedroom. Equipped with a wrap-around porch, tree-swing and a fire place perfect for snuggling in front of...  A dream?  Not even close.  Dave was at his sister's, one of the most lovely women known to man.  Or at another family member's home more than he was home with me.  Things were great for a moment. The kids took the bus to and from school, Ella did gymnastics down the street we had Pebble Ice and a Swig shop around the corner where Dave so graciously would buy soda for me to take my seizure meds.  He was the best husband ever.  I remember the day I had the seizure; it changed everything.  I remember the paramedics coming to get me, early in September. The last thing I saw was Charlotte on the tree swing.  Me waving "goodbye" to her, then my own version of hell began. They admitted me into the South Jordan hospital. After a few days of my kids and Dave coming to visit an older man with a white beard appeared and said I was to go with him. I was confused but Dave said it would be okay and he would be right behind us. I didn’t ask any questions at that point. Little did I know I was being admitted to mount Olympus Skilled Nursing facility.  I was brought to my room and Dave showed up and told me I would stay there for a while until I got better. I remember they dressed me in a gown and I took a nap. Dave was there the whole time.  Life was different then, I kept asking when I would go home. He kept saying when I got my seizures under control. Hours turned into days, and days into weeks, and weeks into months.  Dave visited less and less.  Family phone calls essentially stopped.  Which meant no family prayer or scripture study.  Months turned into a year plus. I remember the day, it was a Sunday, a man in a suite and carrying a briefcase came into my room and handed me a folder.  I asked “what is this?”, and he answered "These are divorce papers." Dave and I had never said the word divorce so I was shocked to say the least. I called his Mom, crying, telling her what just happened. It was Sunday dinner so Dave was there, and told his Mom to tell me "I’m on my way." He entered the room sheepishly and said "This was not supposed to happen on a Sunday," as if that would make me feel better.  I bawled, asking question after question. He explained the decision did not come lightly. He had gone to the temple, prayed and fasted and this was the right choice.  I could not believe what was happening!  At that point he stopped coming, I remember during Halloween begging him to let me come home.  And Dave saying, "It doesn’t work that way."  That’s when I knew I wasn’t going home again, and I was right. Luckily I had a lot of friends in Utah who saved me.  Rebecca Dulgarian, Regina Kimball, Kelly Devillers, and many more came about once a week.  I thank them.  Jenn Jackman was a permanent figure as well. I remember even my cousin would come but no Dave. And my kids were only allowed to visit for an hour once a week.  It was like that for over a year, until my parents flew me home to visit.  And then decided I should be there full time.  And they made the arrangements for me to leave permanently.  I remember packing my bags and saying goodbye to Mount Olympus and to my best friends.  Riley Carpenter, who saved me from committing suicide.  And Anne Hardin, who was a dear friend to me the whole time and is still today.  Monica Bauman, who’s girls treated me like I was a mother figure, when no one else did.  And the rest of the gracious staff there every day.  I was put on a plane with all my bags, I was on my way to freedom.  I was back where I belonged.  My parents were always my true home.  They could not care for me full time so I was sent five minutes away to Seacliff Care Facility, in Huntington Beach.  I thank God that Dave decided to move back to California with the kids.  It was the last unselfish thing he has done up to this point.  It’s been five years since the divorce was finalized.  He will not contact me via phone , or in person, amidst everyone’s efforts for him to do so.  He will drop the kids off blocks away and have them walk to me as if I’m going to run out to him, even though I’m in a wheelchair and couldn’t do so even if I wanted to.  Kid's birthdays I have to go to his house and have the kids come out to open gifts and drop of the cake. There are many things that he never gave me back, such as wedding albums, children’s albums, and all of my perfume. Come to find out he sold all our bedroom furniture and accessories, including our couch, which I never saw a penny of.  I don’t know who this man is anymore.  Last I heard he stopped teaching and got a job with a skilled nursing home.  The irony is unbelievable.  So he can take care of other people and not his wife?  I don’t know who this monster is, no one does.  I continue to see my kids once a week for only one hour.  Even on Mother’s Day.  One hour just isn’t enough time, yet he has them all day and night, the past 5 almost 6 years.  I'm not allowed in or near his home.  He won’t have any thing to do with me, no calls, texts, emails, nothing! It’s as if I never came back to the  land of the living.  Coming from the once kindest Christian family all I can say about all of this is that it’s taken years of counseling, medical intervention and years to even begin to heal and it will take several more to forgive, yet I’m finally on the right path.  It’s been several years since I entertained the thought that everyone and everything would be better had I left the world that chilled day on November 22, 2010.  It’s my kids that brought me back and who assist in my healing on a daily basis.  Even if they don’t attend visits or even visit their only mother they’ll ever have on Mother’s Day or even see how much I’ve sacrificed to be here, typing from an uncomfortable hospital mattress to record my story, though it may be hard to read or accept.

Ike David, Olivia Lu, named after one of the kindest, most gentle people I have had the pleasure and privilege to know, love and to be loved by with no agenda than a beloved daughter of her redeemer, brother and savior of the world, to Charlotte Ryan, who bears the name of my sweet brother who’s name I can hardly type without wiping a tear from my eye.  These three are the only reason why I’m alive and smiling at all.  Last, but definitely not least, the others starting with my own patients who have essentially saved me more times than can be counted and taught me that being a parent is forever, even on the hardest days.  Especially on the hardest days, when children don’t appreciate the things my love did.  Yes, especially on those days when you feel un-loved under-appreciated or need to be listened to even through the anxiety fulled, pouring tears.