As hard and personally “this interruption” affects me and my daughters, I came to learn much later that it has followed the steps which are common to the history of non-custodial fathers with their alienated children. In July 2 1999, my ex-wife and I separated. She had prepared an informal document defining my visitations with the girls that we both signed. I would see Camille and Chloé on Friday afternoon after school and on Sunday all day long until 5:00 pm.
At the beginning, I dreaded the consequences of the separation on my relationship with Camille and Chloé, then 4 and half and two. I was scared to lose the closeness of our relation altogether. I had to find an apartment quickly, very close to the West Side where they were living. I wanted this apartment to be close to parks, to have one independent bedroom for my girls where they could sleep and play. I found it in West Harlem. I first feared that they would be repelled by my place, which was naked, had none of the furniture, toys and comfort that my girls were used to. The first days, there was just a bed, not even a table where we could eat lunch. The first visit, we improvised a “dînette” – a kind of “déjeuner” on a piece of cloth- in the room where the girls would later be sleeping. This déjeuner went so well that I overcame all my fears. My girls did not give a first or a second thought to the not so fresh paintwork or the comfort in my apartment. They really were here to see me. Later on, our “dînettes” were populated with the folks – bears, dolls- that were added to us.
As I was finding out that I was actually breezing freely alone, I was also discovering that I could develop an autonomous relation with my girls, without living under the same roof of my ex-wife. These moments with my girls became everything to me. The weekends came to be the key point of my week. When one visit was over, I was thinking of what we would be doing on the next one. Very soon though, I was cornered into protecting these new moments with my girls. In October 1999, I received a letter from the lawyer of my ex-wife telling me that she had noticed the following: my girls had not eaten properly, came back to their mum’s home tired and that if this were to go on, she would take legal action. I then decided to file for divorce. I naively thought that divorce would shield my relationship with my girls from my ex-wife’s interferences into it.
What best described what was interrupted is play, free and imaginary play. We had a crowd of dolls, Batman, Superman, Robin,a bunch of barbies and bears and during the week-end, things were happening to these folks and their stories were unwinding, sometimes overlapping on one week to the other. When Camille started to write, their stories would be in the “local paper”. Back home, I would be happy putting away all these people that were lying on the floor back on the beds of the girls. Another moment of deep joy would be when I would cook for them and bring them peanuts or cashews while they were watching a video. When my friends asked me what I was doing with my girls the weekend, the answer was uniquevocaly: “we played dolls.” The educational content of these weekends was rather weak. Some friends had suggested that I teach them French. Yet since I was seeing them so rarely, I did not feel that I had to spoil these moments. When we were not playing, I would speak to them in French and they would answer in English. In the beginning of 2002, I made a deal with Camille: she would teach me hebrew,which she was learning in school, and I would teach her French. These “lessons” must have taken place twice or three times.
Now that more than seven years have elapsed since this infamous and phony trial on child abuse took place and that my girls are
pre teens and teens, they might not remember how these weekends with me were also precious to them.Their mum herself once acknowledged that they were. On Saturday January 11, 2000, my apartment was burglarized. The author had broken one of the window of my bedroom. Fortunately, he knew what he wanted and took computer, printer, the cable box etc… without leaving my place as a wreck. Yet because the window was broken, the apartment was quite cold and I thought I had to cancel the Sunday visit of my girls. I called my ex-wife who was adamant that the visit had to happen. The girls wanted to see me and were asking for the visit. The visit took place anyway and went wonderfully well. The super made a rush replacement of the window, and friends that I had invited insisted on coming anyway in my “burglarized” place. The girls had their first crêpe party (in France, families have traditionally the first one the first Sunday of the year).
My girls’ first sleepover at my place is to me one of these unforgettable times with them. It took place I believe, in Christmas 2000, before the divorce was pronounced. The previous summer, I had the bunk beds where my younger sister and I were sleeping when we were little sent from France in my apartment in Harlem. Little by little, these beds had become covered with my girls’ folks, Batman inc. and even Woody that Camille had left at my place. The girls had agreed that Camille the big one would sleep in the upper bed and Chloé in the lower one. I distinctly remember watching them sleeping, which I could do because Chloé wanted me to leave a small lamp on. They were not bothered once by the noise my steps were making on the wooden floor, as I was bringing their presents in their shoes under the Christmas tree.
Oh man,
Yous story is very similar to mine, with one exception, my ex-wife comes from a very rich, well connected family in Syria, and she has (per her statement more than anybody else) a very Un-functional family, and she always wanted to find a job any where in the world away from them, but she decided to jump into her two brothers arms, and they fabricated a domestic violence incident, she goes to the court and issued a Temporarily Restraining Order, which was fully denied by the court but I lost a lot because of it, her father threatened one time if I don’t straighten my act, he will come to the States and take the girls and their mother (His daughter) back to Syria, with everything going on in Syria now I’m scared to death that he might do that, and that means I’m not going to see the girls, her father always said he is backing his daughter no matter what, so she hires a top lawyer in San Diego, because she can offered to pay him, backed by her father, so I had to go through all the crab of borrowing money to pay for my attorney, and all that is, Let say is expected, but what is not she treats the issue as if nothing happened, and now when we are with the girls for a reason the girls start complaining about something she would talk to them in a way like when your kids do something with a stranger and you talk to them to do the right thing, but I’m blessed with two girls I was involved in their whole life in everything they do, from day one, until last night where I have them over the night in my new place which I had to find quickly close to where we lived before, I had involved in the process of my move from day one, I could see them, we picked the apartment together, then I gave them my master bedroom because it’s bigger and they can have a lot of room for their toys ,and their beds, they loved it, and they look forward to FRI where they can sleep at Daddy’s, but I still feel I don’t have time to do what I used to before from giving them all the love I can to punch them when they do something, I still fell all their days with me have to be all joy and fun, and I’m loosing the privilege of being their mentor in a lot of things..
The future of our children rests in our hands. Don’t fill with despair or allow yourself to be immobilized. It’s time for decent people to rise in protest and force our politicians out of their political slumber. Time to hold them accountable for the immense damage their lack of political will is inflicting on our communities.
Click to access A%20MESSAGE%20OF%20HOPE.pdf
Click to access THE%20INTERNATIONAL%20PARENTS%20ALLIANCE%20DOC.pdf
Alternatively you can decide to do nothing, but please don’t expect sympathy from an unsuspecting electorate, who still thinks that it will never happen to them, and when it does it will be too late for them also. The public remains ignorant, same as we were, it is up to us who are now enlightened to raise awareness and warn the public.
Emily
http://www.interpaal.com
I stumbled upon this blog while reading on the Thomas Ball incident. It is so sad and tragic.
My husband is a product of a horrible divorce. His mother denied visitation to his father, even moved to another state. He paid his child support faithfully (even when my husband went to live with him for 6 months when he was a teen). She even took out a credit card in his name without his knowledge. When busted (she maxed out the card and never paid) she said she was desperate- the kids needed food, etc. The charges were for the salon. Oh, BTW she told the kids that their father NEVER paid child support. When hubby was no longer a minor he was pressured into being adopted by his stepdad, a man who did step up from when husband was a child. Basically, the child support had dried up and this was his mom’s last chance to undercut his father, a man he despised because of the brainwashing he had received.
About 7 or 8 years later, we are about 8 months pregnant with our first child. He’s still seething with anger over his father. He couldn’t understand what happened. Why would his father abandon him? I got him to give him a call. That was a game changer.
My f-i-l was taken by lawyers and the entire system, but he kept receipts for every single child support payment, every court document, etc. Even the fraudulent credit card (that he paid).
It’s been about 4 years now. Nothing can give my husband and his father back that time, but their relationship is so close. He is an amazing grandfather to his grand kids. My husband cannot stand to be in the room with his mother. She makes him physically ill. Her current husband and her have a few teenagers. My husband thinks that he his biding his time until the kids are 18.
I guess the point is- your kids will become adults. And hopefully, they’ll see everything for what it was.
Hi Pierre,
Your story and many of the stories are eerily similar to my 4-year ordeal since my ex-wife and I separated in September 2013. The parental alienation in my marriage began before then, though.
My first blogpost, which I created two days ago on Father’s Day as a gift to my daughters (now 12 and 10), lays out an outline of my story, which you can find here:
https://fatherhoodinterruptedblog.wordpress.com/
One thing I alluded to in my first post, but did not explicitly say, is that I was hit with a domestic violence protective order (DVPO) in Wake County, NC by my ex in mid-March 2017. I was living 4-5 states away at the time, had had dinner with my ex and our girls at their house in mid-September 2016 (even met the guy she left me for and has married in the last month or so for the first time during my visit to Raleigh), and my ex and I even lived in the marital home together with the girls during the first five volatile months of our separation. No history of any domestic violence until she filed the DVPO. (She trumped a contempt filing she knew was being prepared by my NC lawyers with the DVPO.). Now, I can not even contact my girls–which is the ultimate parental alienation “checkmate.”
My job loss as the assistant general counsel of a manufacturing group back in 2013 and trying to find a new job in this market, when you are told you are “too senior” or “over-qualified” for a law firm associate role and unable to step into a partner role without a book of business, is tough. Taking an underemployed position back then was not prudent as it would not likely get me a downward adjustment in alimony or child support nor bode well for me in my chosen career. Add to this divorce, and the problems are compounded. Pile parental alienation on top of all of this and each problem becomes even more difficult, if not unbearable. It was all used against me by my ex to further alienate me from the girls–real world, tough life stuff is not allowed to happen to a targeted parented.
My ex-wife knew our children and my love for them was my Achilles heal. She used it to her advantage every chance she could the past four years. Even when I knew I was being played, I still had to take the high road for the girls. Much stress, many sleepless nights and countless tears have been shed watching the slow train wreck of the destruction of my relationship with my daughters take place before all with me being unable to effectively do anything about it.
Now, looking back, I realize that my focus on my girls and all my attempts to keep from losing our relationship (or actually trying to preserve of it what I could) has come at great expense. I may very well have sacrificed my professional and financial well-being without any future with my children to show for it.
Thank you for listening.