He's Going to California
...the Sun is. The judge, in her infinite wisdom and intimate knowledge of my life and issues, has decreed it, convinced by the Law Guardian that I am some hysterical, paranoid black chick, and the poor white man that lives in California deserves the visit.
Bitter? You betcha.
Pissed off? You've no idea.
Frightened? witless.
Of what, though, I don't know. I know that there were things the man did that upset my sense of right and wrong, filled me with unease. I know that I vowed to myself that I would protect my Sun from those things but now that power has been taken.
They called the Sun in to the Judge's chambers. As he went in, he grabbed his teddy bear and looked at me, his eyes saying "it's show time." I looked up at him saying "Oh, it is?" and the Law Guardian snapped at me "he's fine!" He came out about 20 minutes later, and I took him into the Safe Horizon playroom, and then joined everyone in the courtroom. The Judge remarked how well-behaved, polite and well-spoken he was and then said she would permit the trip. Now. This August.
Deflated?
Flat. The lawyer (who wasn't my regular lawyer since she had apparently been sent home with the flu that morning) asked me if I wanted her to argue, and I said no. What's the point? The only thing I made sure they put in writing was not to cut The Hair. They snickered, but it's written. FBB can't "convince" The Sun while he's out there to cut his hair. The Law Guardian, (who was sitting right next to me) and FBB's lawyer hustled out quietly, knowing that I was beaten.
When we got into the waiting room, though, I exploded. Controlled, but the most agitated I've been in awhile. I made sure the Law Guardian heard me say that if anything happened to him, so help me God, I'm coming after with guns blazing. She better pray FBB doesn't fuck up. The lawyer said "everything will be clearly spelled out" and I cut her off saying "It's always written and it doesn't matter. The man does NOT follow directions, he never follows what's written."
The lawyer kept trying to make me feel better, but nothing she could say could soothe me. She finally gave up, and left. I sat there for a long time, text-messaging my sister, trying to compose myself and not cry.
I got the Sun out of the playroom, and told him he got his trip. He looked at me, wanting to be excited but watching my face. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him that I wasn't happy about it. But that I'd told him the night before that if he was comfortable being with his dad, knowing that I'm not coming to get him if it goes wrong, then I'd let him go.
After eating at Burger King, (where they didn't have the advertised Kids Meal Transformer Toy), we came home. I managed to hold it all together for the most part. The Sun asked me if I was going to cry, and I said "I will, but not around you". He kept asking me what was wrong, and I kept saying "I'm not happy about the trip." He asked me if I would miss him and I asked him "What do you think? More than life itself." Sometimes he said "I don't want to go" and sometimes he said "It will be OK. We'll get along" and I said that the only way he can NOT go at this point, is if he yells and screams and convinces everyone that he truly doesn't want to go, and that I didn't talk him out of it. That the trip is a done deal (his father called to say he got the tickets). And that there was nothing I could do; the decision is completely out of my hands. He asked me "what happens if we fight?" and I said "you're going to have to work it out; I can't come and get you." He said I could meet him at the airport and I told him; it's not that simple. It will take you six hours just to get home and he finished "and by that time things could be OK again."
My sister says it's OK to be mad at him. And I'm angry as hell, but I'm not angry at him. He's 8. The world is conquerable. Mommy has always been there to back him. His father is manageable, and when he isn't, Mommy always comes to the precinct, or where ever he is, to get him. Because she told him she would. Matter of fact, Mommy told him that if he were in the depths of hell and the Devil himself said that he couldn't leave, Mommy would fight the Devil to bring her baby home.
Mommy is just fucking naive, is the problem. Too convinced that right always wins, despite her bitter and jaded appearance. In her heart Mommy always believes "Do right, because it is right to do right" even though the rest of the world triumphs by doing whatever the hell they feel like.
I do believe in God; and on the way home standing at the bus that takes us back to the Rock, a rainshower began so suddenly that the sun didn't have a chance to hide. A rainbow appeared... then another. I can't tell you how rare rainbows are in the Big Apple, and a double rainbow is almost unheard of. People in the bus stop marveled, and I allowed myself to believe that it was a message letting me know that things will be OK. Because I am naive and trusting, no matter how bitter and jaded I pretend to be.
After the Sun was asleep I knocked myself out with a glass of wine and went to bed.
Bitter? You betcha.
Pissed off? You've no idea.
Frightened? witless.
Of what, though, I don't know. I know that there were things the man did that upset my sense of right and wrong, filled me with unease. I know that I vowed to myself that I would protect my Sun from those things but now that power has been taken.
They called the Sun in to the Judge's chambers. As he went in, he grabbed his teddy bear and looked at me, his eyes saying "it's show time." I looked up at him saying "Oh, it is?" and the Law Guardian snapped at me "he's fine!" He came out about 20 minutes later, and I took him into the Safe Horizon playroom, and then joined everyone in the courtroom. The Judge remarked how well-behaved, polite and well-spoken he was and then said she would permit the trip. Now. This August.
Deflated?
Flat. The lawyer (who wasn't my regular lawyer since she had apparently been sent home with the flu that morning) asked me if I wanted her to argue, and I said no. What's the point? The only thing I made sure they put in writing was not to cut The Hair. They snickered, but it's written. FBB can't "convince" The Sun while he's out there to cut his hair. The Law Guardian, (who was sitting right next to me) and FBB's lawyer hustled out quietly, knowing that I was beaten.
When we got into the waiting room, though, I exploded. Controlled, but the most agitated I've been in awhile. I made sure the Law Guardian heard me say that if anything happened to him, so help me God, I'm coming after with guns blazing. She better pray FBB doesn't fuck up. The lawyer said "everything will be clearly spelled out" and I cut her off saying "It's always written and it doesn't matter. The man does NOT follow directions, he never follows what's written."
The lawyer kept trying to make me feel better, but nothing she could say could soothe me. She finally gave up, and left. I sat there for a long time, text-messaging my sister, trying to compose myself and not cry.
I got the Sun out of the playroom, and told him he got his trip. He looked at me, wanting to be excited but watching my face. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him that I wasn't happy about it. But that I'd told him the night before that if he was comfortable being with his dad, knowing that I'm not coming to get him if it goes wrong, then I'd let him go.
After eating at Burger King, (where they didn't have the advertised Kids Meal Transformer Toy), we came home. I managed to hold it all together for the most part. The Sun asked me if I was going to cry, and I said "I will, but not around you". He kept asking me what was wrong, and I kept saying "I'm not happy about the trip." He asked me if I would miss him and I asked him "What do you think? More than life itself." Sometimes he said "I don't want to go" and sometimes he said "It will be OK. We'll get along" and I said that the only way he can NOT go at this point, is if he yells and screams and convinces everyone that he truly doesn't want to go, and that I didn't talk him out of it. That the trip is a done deal (his father called to say he got the tickets). And that there was nothing I could do; the decision is completely out of my hands. He asked me "what happens if we fight?" and I said "you're going to have to work it out; I can't come and get you." He said I could meet him at the airport and I told him; it's not that simple. It will take you six hours just to get home and he finished "and by that time things could be OK again."
My sister says it's OK to be mad at him. And I'm angry as hell, but I'm not angry at him. He's 8. The world is conquerable. Mommy has always been there to back him. His father is manageable, and when he isn't, Mommy always comes to the precinct, or where ever he is, to get him. Because she told him she would. Matter of fact, Mommy told him that if he were in the depths of hell and the Devil himself said that he couldn't leave, Mommy would fight the Devil to bring her baby home.
Mommy is just fucking naive, is the problem. Too convinced that right always wins, despite her bitter and jaded appearance. In her heart Mommy always believes "Do right, because it is right to do right" even though the rest of the world triumphs by doing whatever the hell they feel like.
I do believe in God; and on the way home standing at the bus that takes us back to the Rock, a rainshower began so suddenly that the sun didn't have a chance to hide. A rainbow appeared... then another. I can't tell you how rare rainbows are in the Big Apple, and a double rainbow is almost unheard of. People in the bus stop marveled, and I allowed myself to believe that it was a message letting me know that things will be OK. Because I am naive and trusting, no matter how bitter and jaded I pretend to be.
After the Sun was asleep I knocked myself out with a glass of wine and went to bed.
Comments
Hang in there and I'm sending peace vibes to you.
When in August is he going and where will he be? I am flying L out to SFO the 8th and going back to get her the 17th. Maybe I can go fire rubber bands at his house/car...