I believe this is because throughout my life, during my lowest times, it has always been music that sustained me. Music was the only thing I ever felt I could fully rely upon for support when I was grounded to my bedroom for a month; when I was in an uncertain or extremely stressful situation; when I was praising God in the choir; when I first really “made out” with someone; when I fell in love and when that fell apart, there was always a song in my heart. Now I actually find ways to fit lyrics to my pain. So I listen to music with my heart-break effecting my ears and find myself personalizing and redefining the meanings within.
I suppose we all do that. You can ask ten people what the meaning of a song or poem is and you will likely get ten different answers. (I think this is what angered me so in my college English courses; teachers want to assign definite, rigid meaning to a writers words, not allowing a reader to personalize the subject matter. In my opinion this is no way to experience any art). I recall a discussion I had late at night with my former spouse. He told me he received a poor grade in a literature class for not “realizing” a poem called (?)(I think) “Naming of the Parts” was about sex. He said the poem was about taking apart a firearm. I digress, my point is that it is normal to try to apply the meaning of art to something within the individual audience members experience. So now, everywhere I go I am reminded of the pain of my divorce in places where no painful memories or emotions existed before.
Pink Floyd has always been one of my favorite bands. I could listen to them all day. Here is an excerpt from “Two Suns in the Sunset” from “The Final Cut” album.
Like the moment when the brakes lock
And you slide towards the big truck
”Oh no!” ”[scream] Daddy, Daddy!”
You stretch the frozen moments with your fear.
And you’ll never hear their voices
And you’ll never see their faces
You have no recourse to the law anymore.
And as the windshield melts My tears evaporate
Leaving only charcoal to defend.
Finally I understand the feelings of the few.
Ashes and diamonds
Foe and friend
We were all equal in the end.
I used to think these words were about death in an automobile collision, now I think the wreck is a failed marriage and the loss of “two Suns” feels like death. Much like the loss of my 4 kids feels like a quadruple homicide in which their once deep love for me has been cut out like my beating heart.
In movies I can give you a prime example of a meaning changed for me forever. The Tom Cruise version of “War of the Worlds” to me has become a metaphor of a family struggling to work out custody, a step-father, a rebellious teenager and a helpless little girl are all issues faced by the Cruise father figure. His arrival at the home he once shared with his wife and children is so descriptive of the divorced home; an airliner has crashed into it nearly obliterating any resemblance of the home’s prior comfort, desperate, he is forced to spend the night there with his confused, scared, saddened children…
So you see, divorce, especially one as terrible as mine, changes your view of so much…
I think the reason for missing the signs was the BASE fact that in my heart, mind and soul I love my children more than oxygen. I felt the ties of being their mother, giving birth, my blood in their veins, my love was resonating throughout each of them with every beat of their hearts. The same way I feel this overwhelmingly unconditional love for them. I can’t imagine what insidious force could exist that could take a child and twist them so that they go from “I love you Mommy” to a completely earth shattering silence that roars loudest in my ears on days like our birthdays, holidays and especially Mothers Day. How!?! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?!
My very talented daughter went from thanking me for an autograph which I literally BEGGED Jason Mraz’ for, to writing and publishing the song “momma” on her “Not a Hipster” album. To me it is both a wonderful song by a talented musician AND a scathing, hurtful, condemnation of me for sending her extraordinary gifts on occasions.
“I don’t know if I can thank you for, trying to make up after losing that war” … “I know that you are trying so hard, all the gifts and all the birthday cards, Momma buying love isn’t going to fix this, not tonight.”
In the space of a year she went from LOVE to ______”hate?” This transformation is visible and obvious to anyone who follows her Instagram or who heard the song “Momma”. I have to admit I love the song, not the content mind you, but the sheer talent I see in her, talent I am awestruck by even when it cuts a piece of my psyche every time I hear it.
Did she know how hurt I would be when she wrote it? Was that her goal? I hope not. Her song ends with the line “Guess I better call my Momma tonight“. The fact is I haven’t received a phone call from her in over 2 years.
The last time I heard from any of my kids who reside with my former spouse and his new wife was December 30th 2013. Just two days prior (12/28) I had texted my older daughter Libby that my New Years resolution was going to be to forgive Chuck and not pursue the money ($178,000) that he has not paid me in my divorce. I was going to try to move on. Libby said, “Mom, that is a great idea“…
On December 30th I got one of the most repugnant calls from the clan Wesolowski that I literally wanted to be sick. In the call, Chuck called me all kinds of horrible names; accused me of calling them and leaving messages (of what type I am not sure)(and which I can assure you I did not leave as I hadn’t called them since Thanksgiving 2013); of being a liar (despite the fact that, as you will soon discover, my problems exist in many ways because I tell the truth too much); if wasn’t bad enough Stepmother Jill and her sister Robin got on the line and among other things threatened to kill me; called me “Spawn of the Devil” and much worse (I am trying to keep a G rating here so I will leave some choice terms they used out). All I kept saying was STUPIDLY“I am going to sue you!” Oh believe me, I am over 50% Irish, and I have that redhead temper, so it took a lot of restraint for me to keep my temper in check.
As angry as I was at these 3 adults (all of whom I believe are older than me) I about died when I heard my child’s voice say after the 25 minute berating I had just endured and just before the line went dead, “So let me get this straight, you are going to sue for money, but not for custody of your kids.”
At the sound of my child’s voice and those 20 words I had an emotional kaleidoscope go off in my head. Thoughts and emotions seeming to come into focus, try to take shape and then be replaced by other thoughts and emotions. The turmoil that rolled over me is nearly indescribable. At the end of what seemed like five minutes of falling through a wormhole, which I did fear I would never emerge from intact, there was a clarity.
The clarity was this; they set me up again, and I fell for it.
The secondary clarity to this moment in time was that they allowed at least one of my children to sit in and listen to such hate speech aimed my way that it sickened me beyond belief.
Again, my youngest will be 18 in ten months. There is no good reason for me to seek custody at this juncture. It would cause him more harm than good to remove him from a school he loves, and his senior year… And honestly as much as I can’t stand what his father has done to me, to take him out (even of an alienating parents home) would hurt my son, and I can’t cause him more pain than he has been through. I can’t and I won’t.
This is just one example of the pain I have been enduring at the hands of my former spouse, my former mother-in-law, his new wife and her sister since before 2001.
About this phone call, somehow I had the sensibility to grab a recorder and began recording about 2 minutes into the call. I don’t know how to post it here, but as soon as I work it out, I will at least link to it. I admit my repeatedly saying, “I am going to sue you” kinda makes me look like a money hungry gold digger, but the context in my mind was that I was 48 hours away from making it a vow to not pursue money owed to me, which brings me to my final point for this lengthy post…
It was Libby who knew of my resolution, no one else. ONLY LIBBY.
Did she call them and make some inflammatory remark that set them upon that course of pain that night? You see, as much as I love Libby, I also know that she enjoys walking into a room, making one “bombshell” comment, and then stepping back to relish in the fireworks that ensue.
You think I am wrong? I’ll give you an example. She went to visit her Dad for Christmas in 2010 and wound up getting kicked out of the house by step-mother Jill because she walked into a room full of family and made a comment about one of Jill’s friends or relatives (I don’t know her family other than Robin so I have no idea if it was one of her in-laws or a friend’s husband) impregnating a woman he wasn’t married to. Jill thought she was lying about the adultery, Libby apparently made it known that it was somewhat common knowledge and Jill kicked Libby out. So Libby had to find a friend who would let her stay with them until her plane left about 36 hours later. I love my daughter but I feel she can be a dangerous person. She is a person who gets some kind of thrill out of causing damage to other people. I don’t have a clue what to do about her, she is 24, so I have no legal standing to force her into some sort of therapy, although I strongly believe she needs it.
Thanks for reading today’s entry. My laptop died so I am writing on a tab which is quite awkward. Please forgive any weird autocorrect errors or strange replacements. (Update: I have tried to fix the errors, let me know if you see anymore)
I have been giving a lot of thought to the METHOD of causing a child to hate a parent so much. I mean this must take a real concerted effort, right? I envisioned an aversion therapy like that featured in the book “A Clockwork Orange”, or time spent in a hyptnoists office, being “programmed”… I also thought about those men in the Man Boy Love group, how do they convince children that they are the child’s friend, to be silent, and in some cases to come to be an important part of a “Rapist” or child molestor’s life?
I’ve heard some awful things from the mouths of babes, things that could only be taught: racial slurs: dispariaging remarks about ethnic groups even before the child knows what a member of that ethnic group is. So how do these people teach hate so easily?
In my reading of stories of others situations it seems there really is a method or process the adults put the children through in order to get the desired result.
Here are some of the things I believe cases have in common:
1) Removal of any items that can induce fond memories of the estranged parent, photos, presents, letters, and even clothing: these are sometimes intercepted and destroyed or the other parent takes credit for the gift, making the child feel forgotten/abandonded by the estranged parent.
2) Name calling. If you call a child stupid enough, s/he will begin to feel and act that way; if you call their parent a crackhead enough, they will believe that too.
3) Telling the child s/he isn’t loved.
4) Detailing wrondoings in a way that is a serious negative connotation. ie. I bounced a check and my ex told the kids there was a warrant for my arrest, not what for, just that I was due to be arrested for being “BAD”.
5) Provoking anger then only showing the angry response and not what led to it.
6) Allowing/Encouraging others to bad mouth the x.