For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out. -James Baldwin
My grandson was born and just over 2 years later he was gone. During this timeframe there was so much love and many precious moments - but, because of this love, for both my grandson and my daughter, it was also filled with so much unbearable pain and many moments of shock and revelation.
And though it is hard to relive the pain that streams so strongly to the surface in the telling, the pain and the insanity of it all must be told - It must be heard - It must be shared with those who do not know - who should know - who need to know.
One day, when my grandson would have been no older than 6 months old, out of nowhere, a statement, unbelievable to me, tumbled from my daughter's lips, "You can have him. I don't want him. Get what ever papers are needed and I will sign him over to you."
This was one of those moments in your life that is framed, word for word, forever in your soul. You might not remember the sentence before or the sentence after. In fact, you might remember little else of the conversation or even the day, but those words, those few significant words are forever immortalized in your memory.
I was shocked. I couldn't believe her words! Because her thinking was not even within my realm of imagining - I who was so maternal - I was not able to accept them. Instead, I tossed them aside and would not receive them. "My daughter is stressed. She doesn't really mean what she's saying, " I told myself.
Though my daughter, before her first pregnancy, had already been diagnosed as being clinically depressed, she was doing nothing for her condition. She had given up on counseling and she was not taking her medication. At one point, she had shared with me that her doctor had requested that she inform her of any concerns she might have with her depression - but this frustrated me. She was not well and, in her unwellness, I was well aware that she was unable to gauge her own condition.
One of her friends, another young person diagnosed with depression, confirmed to me that this was a typical pattern. She told me that depressed people might take medication for a while, but then, either believing themselves to be better or believing the medication ineffective, will take themselves off. Indeed, she confided to me that she often did this herself.
I recall that once, in desperation, I attempted to phone my daughter's doctor to let her know that I was concerned about my daughter's behavior and that I did not believe she had the ability to gauge her condition herself. But I was unable to speak directly with this doctor, and all I could do was leave a message with the secretary and because my daughter was an adult, of course, the doctor never returned the call. I understand this doctor did make some inquiry to my daughter in response to my phone message, but, as expected, my daughter sloughed off my reasons for concern as being inaccurate, and per my expectation, nothing was done to help her.
If only we had the wisdom of hind sight. Daily I perceived a decline in her temperament, and soon my home became an environment of discomfort, stress and even fear. In my total rejection of my daughter's words to abandon her baby, I was unable to make any connections with her declaration and her worsening behavior. Meanwhile, I believe now, my unbelief contributed to my daughter's mental anguish and pain and she responded by slipping further and further into a despair which manifested itself by an escalating rejection of her child and a mounting shortness and anger with me.
Many days when I was getting ready to go to work, it was apparent that my
I racked my brains to find some direction for help. My daughter, apathetic in her illness, had no desire to seek assistance for herself, while her doctor, overwhelmed by the business of the medical profession, was content to absorb the stories of wellness espoused by my daughter, and my daughter's friends, companions in her illness, were lethargic to the seriousness of the situation. Seeking some new yet untapped source of help, I naively reached out to Children's Services. Surely, I thought, they would help. They cared about the well being of children and they would do everything in their power to help my daughter become a better mother.
So I phoned them and told them about my concern for my daughter and her lack of bonding to her baby. . . . .
Oh, what a miserable naive creature I was! I implored them to come into my house and help my child and, in so doing, I opened the doorway to hell. The chronicle of the distressed woman that I had been privy to only months earlier did not jump up to warn me. But how could it? I had not believed it! How wretched is my state knowing now that I had been visited by a truthful foreboding tale of caution but had failed to heed it's warning! I sought help, but instead, the HEL-P I sought was corrupted into HEL-L. Pandora's box was opened, the demons were released, and now there was no way of shutting it.
After several weeks, while I was at work, a caseworker from Children's Services finally came to visit my daughter in my home. Without consulting me or making any attempt to evaluate the resources within the family, or my importance in my grandson's life, the worker suggested that my daughter move out of the home and go on assistance.
But this was on option that my daughter refused to even consider. She did not want to become dependent on the system. And knowing my daughter's inability to look after herself, let alone a baby, at the time, I believed this advice stemmed from a naive assumption of negative generalities. In hind sight, I now see that this was an initial attempt, by Children Services, to isolate my daughter from her family, putting her into a place of vulnerability within the system.
With no help or any hope of solution, my daughter's aggravation and verbal rages intensified.
Then, one day, in conversation with a friend, the reality of my daughter's behavior was impressed upon me. This friend informed me that it would only be a matter of time before the angry statements my daughter was bombarding me with concerning her child would eventually be diverted directly towards him.
This was a devastating insight that I had not even contemplated before, but now, I did not have to be convinced because the truth of this wisdom stuck me with an intensity that both shocked and horrified me. I did not want my grandson exposed to such abuse and I knew the responsibility to act was mine: first, I needed to accept the truth about my daughter's limitations; then, I needed to respond to my daughter's wishes; and most importantly, I needed to protect my grandchild.
My daughter was an adult, but my grandson was a baby and, as such, he was my first priority. Only now could I understand that my daughter's escalating negative behavior had been her way of telling me that she meant what she had said. She had been lashing out at me because I had not believed her, and she was wallowing in her frustration and despair over her inability to cope. As a result, I immediately phoned a lawyer for an emergency consultation.
This lawyer, who I had had a certain amount of personal connection with, warned me not to get Children's Services involved in this situation. At the time, I did not understand the wisdom of this warning, but she was adamant, and I was ashamed to admit to her that I had already done so. Naively, I believed the involvement of Children's Services had been contained by my daughter's decision not to go on assistance. This lawyer also informed me that, especially considering my daughter's history of violent behavior, it was important that I got legal custody of my grandson. Without this, I was told, my daughter could negatively interject herself into the life of my grandson at any time.
Agreeing that it was important that my grandson should have consistent security in his life, I returned home to discuss my legal consultation with my daughter. As I began this discussion with my daughter, she was open and receptive, even noticeably relieved, but when I told her that I was advised to obtain legal custody, she exploded. On this subject, my daughter made her thoughts very clear. "If you ever go after legal custody, I will fight you on it!" she exploded.
Once again I was confounded. Her eruption was decisive, not inviting further discussion, and I did not know what to do. Without help or direction, I now felt my best option was to bide my time.
Having little interest in her son, my daughter insisted on getting a job leaving him with a sitter during the week and habitually leaving him with me for hours beyond her promised returns on the week- ends. Meanwhile, stories filtered to me from the neighbors concerning her lack of interaction with her son. With no help forthcoming for my daughter, I believed it would only be a matter of time before my daughter left my grandson with me. Meanwhile, in my home, I could keep a watch on both my child and my grandchild.
But I underestimated the effect of my daughter's negativity in my home for it proved to be a force that was extremely unhealthy and destructive. Eventually, at my insistence, my daughter arranged to move out. I needed this separation from my daughter, but she arranged to get an apartment close by so that I would still be able to keep an eye on both her and my grandson.
But then, at the last minute, only the day before she was to move, the verbal agreement between the superintendent and my daughter fell through. I was shocked and devastated! It was a separation which, at the time, was very much needed and now it was not going to happen.
Eventually my daughter’s behavior got so bad I had to remove her from my home. In truth, it was not a good scene, and since she insisted on taking my grandson with her, he left as well. But my daughter, after spending a few weeks with friends was unable to find a permanent respite and once again she returned to live with me.
In time, I came to accept that the relationship that I had with my daughter, was no different than that of an abused wife. The cycle of abuse was the same: abuse followed by reconciliation, including promises of change; a period of tranquility referred to as the "honeymoon period"; followed once again by abuse, with the honeymoon periods getting progressively shorter while the abuse intensified. My daughter's power rested in her assurance of my concern for my grandson. I was also concerned for my daughter, though, at the time, in the mental state she was in, she would not have recognized or accepted this.
One fateful evening, my daughter exploded both verbally and physically and I as forced to phone the police. From the words flowing out of her mouth to the police, I realized that our relationship had turned a fateful corner.
But in her flurry and anger, she did give a full confession to the police which they wrote down and she then signed.
The police were calm and concerned. They told me that I did not have to tolerate my daughter's behavior any longer. In fact, they informed me that they were removing her from my household, laying assault and uttering death threat charges against her. In addition, they informed me they were placing an undertaking against her which meant that she was not permitted to communicate with me on any level. Meanwhile, the police directed, my grandson was to remain with me.
They were handling this as a domestic violence case, removing the responsibility from me. It was the CROWN that was laying the charges - It was the CROWN that would be taking her to court. This is the process in the Canadian law system, to protect family members from being bullied or manuipulated into not laying charges to begin with, or having them removed once they are laid. I had no say in these charges being laid.
This was not the separation between mother and daughter that I had envisioned. Earlier I had sought help for my daughter from Children Services and received nothing. Now extreme measures were being imposed upon my family.
*************
You are the soft whisper in my soul, the ache in my heart. Your eyes are orbs of trust, and the touch of your tiny fingers are soft and gentle. You are the innocence of a tiny babe. You seek only to love and be loved - I am here. I love you. I will protect you - Me -the author of this book
Now, my grandson, who had just turned nine months old, was my total responsibility. I worked full time while working on a Master level university course one evening a week. My friends were concerned about my work load, but I could honestly tell them that I was not overwhelmed. I had already been doing most of the care for my grandson, and my home, devoid of my angry daughter, was now immersed with an overwhelming sense of peace that I found both energizing and cathartic.
For my grandson's sake, I wanted to maintain his routine as much as possible. Since my daughter had him with a well qualified private care-giver on a part-time basis, I decided to leave him with this sitter three times a week taking him to work with me twice a week. I also maintain the regular contact that had been established with the neighbors across the hallway - this was later to prove a fateful mistake.
My grandson was a confident, happy, outgoing little fellow who smiled and spread joy wherever he went. I cherished every minute I had with him, and I loved him deeply. He was an early walker, by his ninth month he had begun this new skill and by his tenth month he was quite proficient at toddling around.
At this time, I made a number of five minute observations of my grandson for a university course I was taking. Below is my summation of these observations:
Observations showed that ______ was a very outgoing child who was not
afraid to connect with people. In particular, ______ often used direct eye contact. It was not unusual for this child to walk right up to strangers, stand at
their feet and just stare up at them until communication was established. On the
bus, ______was often observed "playing the crowd" with his eyes and his smiles.
I would suddenly look around and see all these people on the bus making eyes and communicating back at this little boy sitting in his stroller who was busy
flopping his feet and expressing himself with his eyes.
I observed that there were particular ways of communicating that ______
reserved for certain people he saw on a regular basis . For example, I observed
______ winking and blinking in a very expressive way to the babysitter. When I
tried to get ______to repeat this with me I could not, but I was told by the
sitter that this was an action that he did repeatedly with her.
I took my grandson to the sitter's the day of my university class and picked him up in the evening when my class concluded. Luckily my job had some flexibility in it's hours. Friday's were relegated as prep days but I had the option to spread this prep time over the weekend if I chose to do so. Taking advantage of this, I took my grandson to the sitters on this day, spending the time doing the necessary shopping for my program and opting to do the most demanding parts of my university assignment on this day. The other prep for my job was distributed through the weekend when my grandson napped or slept in the evening .
No comments:
Post a Comment