So This is What Hell on Earth Feels Like.....

I know it is best not to air ones dirty laundry to the world but sometimes there just isn't anyone else to turn to because everyone you would have once turned to is involved or gone. Besides, I don't believe many people read this blog and the one person who reads it from real life already knows and has stood by our side.

New Years Eve day my mother was admitted into the hospital with a bacterial pneumonia. I got the call from my father around noon that day and sped my way from work to the hospital where Elders from our church had just arrived to give my mother a blessing. She had passed out in the car on the way to the hospital and gave my father a good scare. He was beside himself at the hospital waiting for doctors to see my mom.

So Mom gets admitted, we all go home and are in bed by 10 o'clock. Who gives a flip about watching a stinking old ball drop anyway. It was so sad to watch my mom cry about having to spend her first new years in 32 years away from my father, and watching him brush away a tear from her cheek and say "That's okay, we'll have plenty more."

Tuesday morning I spend at the hospital, heading to Adam's around lunch time because guess what?!? Today is the day he is moving out of his apartment!! I spend the day helping him pack, cleaning up the apartment, renting a Uhual (that I actually drove for a few miles before having to enlist my father's help for the long haul), and then loading and unloading said Uhaul.

Wednesday, and Thursday I work and head to the hospital right after for a few hours. I took off Friday and Saturday knowing there was lots to do to get the house ready for Mom to be released. On my way up to the hospital Friday morning I stopped to my Aunt's house to give my cousin Noel her birthday present before going to the hospital. It was kind of early, around 9:30 or so. Noel quickly had to leave to go pick her dad up from dialysis and my other cousin couldn't seem to get back to bed fast enough (she drops her Dad off ad dialysis at like 5am) so I just left not really thinking anything of the fact that everyone seemed to not be able to get away from me quick enough.

I head to my home town to do some shopping because I desperately needed jeans. I scored big time at the Salvation Army, getting about 5 pairs of jeans, several shirts, a corduroy jacket, and a tshirt for Adam, all for $50. NICE!!

So up to the hospital I headed. Mom isn't being released until Sunday at the earliest, I spend several hours at the hospital and then head off for a date night with Adam because we haven't seen each other since Tuesday and was craving to have him just be around me. We went to a diner and ate some yummy food and as we were heading out of the parking lot my sister calls me. Apparently there were several voice mails on our phone from an investigator looking for my father......... She wanted to know if I knew what it was about. Of course I didn't but Daddy would be leaving the hospital to head home soon and we'd find out then.

I dropped Adam off at the train and headed home, thinking my sister and I would just crash and watch a movie and head to bed. It had been a very long week after all.

Well, dad gets home calls in the investigator and finds out it has to do with an on going investigation with my cousin's three year old. Dad tells the investigator to head on over to the house without delay. Jessica and I scramble picking up the house, putting clothes back on in case we need to run out the door. We even went so far as to take off all of our jewelry in case we had to go kick some ass.

Investigator comes and confirms our worst fears. The little girl has been molested and my father is a suspect. My father who has never once been alone with this child, wouldn't even let this little girl sit on his lap, a little girl my father loves to pieces, a little girl who looks just like me as a child. My father adamantly said he had never touched the little girl in a bad way and said he would take a lie detector test to prove it. The investigator leaves and my father was hysterical. This was his worst fear come true. And now we had to worry about my mother finding out while she is in the hospital already very ill.

I gave my father one of my xanax and he laid down in bed almost hyperventilating and Jessica and I locked ourselves in her room and went over game plan. We couldn't come up with one, so we went and crawled up in bed with our father to give him our support and show him we didn't think for one second it was him.

In the mean time my heart is absolutely breaking at the thought of someone touching this little girl. I don't often speak about the fact that I was a sexually abused child because it's no ones business. And NO IT WAS NOT BY MY FATHER!!! It was the son of a family friend. But this little girl looks so much like me when I was little. She was like my second chance. A chance to see how I would grow up without that happening and now it was robbed from her too.

So Jessica and I are laying in bed with our dad offering him whatever comfort we can and just letting him talk incoherently. He was so worried about my mother. It was about 11 at night January 4th. The idea came to me that we should go to the hospital and tell her tonight before anyone else (her sister or the police) could get to her before us. So we packed up, made sure we had enough xanax on us and headed to the hospital. I don't know how I drove that night- I certainly wasn't really paying attention to the road. We stopped at the nurses station and informed them that we were about to tell my mother about a death in the family and to please check on us in a few minutes in case my mother needed anything because of the news.

The panic in my mothers eyes as we walked into her hospital room was so apparent, I lied and told her we were just coming to have a slumber party with her because she shouldn't be allowed to have all the fun by herself. We kept that up for a few minutes and then I had to tell her the truth. I expected hysterics but all she did was put her arm over her eyes and shake her foot. Dad cried, Jessica and I didn't know what to do. There it was said.

It was understood now that our family was really all we had left. I wasn't going to have any more cousins- there were no more nieces and nephews (my cousins children all refer to me as Aunt). This accusation was the end of so many things.

We went home that night, further drugged my father with sleeping medications and then woke up like zombies. Some how we functioned through Saturday. Sunday I broke down and told Alyse- this wasn't the sort of thing we could handle on our own. Alyse stayed with me all day Sunday as I visited with church officials getting advice and help. Then up to the hospital with my mother she and I went.

Monday mom came home from the hospital. Tuesday my cousins were taking the little girl to a child shrink to try and get more info out of her. Tuesday afternoon the police called and asked my father if he would be willing to take a polygraph. One of the members from church I spoke with Sunday had suggested that Dad not do it because of the fact that they are no good in court. Dad decided he had nothing to hide so he made the appointment for Wednesday to take the test.

I tried so hard to get off work so I could be with my father. I knew I wouldn't be allowed to stay with him and I would wait for hours alone in a hallway, but I wanted to be with him and have him know I was there because I believed him and love him. My boss was a jerk because of missing the two days with my mother in the hospital and wouldn't let me take off another day.

Wednesday was the worst day of my life. Every time the phone rang my heart jumped and I died a little inside each time it wasn't my mother calling me. Finally around 3 the call came- my father passed the test with flying colors and the police 100% were done investigating him.

It'd be nice if that were the end of the story. But it isn't. The fact is that someone molested a three year old. The fact is that my mothers entire side of the family believed for a week or so that my father was guilty. The fact is that I've lost my aunt, my cousins, my nieces, and my nephews. The fact is that everyone who does read this blog knows how close Noel and I were. When the police called my cousin to inform him of the polygraph results Noel was in the background saying my father belongs in jail, he's a child molester, and that she was glad she never left her child alone with "Them people." The fact is that my father is now showing signs of suffering from PTSD. The fact is I'm now having panic attacks myself. The fact is that the investigator  was concerned for my fathers safety after ending the phone call with my cousin.

This week I've watched my mother (who remember is still very ill recovering from pneumonia) break down crying asking my father if he still loved her and if he was going to leave her because of all the pain her family has always put him through. I've had to watch my father be afraid to walk out of his own doors. My family now keeps the doors locked- something we only ever did when we went to bed or all left the house.

The last week has been hell. I've had to worry about my father possibly going to jail- and we all know what happens to child molesters and rapists in jail. I had to think about what my wedding would be like without my father. I thought about calling things with Adam off because I love him so much and didn't want to drag him through the potential mess things could have really become. I had to worry about who would take care of my mother while Jessica and I work... I had to worry about my Daddy being killed in jail. All the while knowing there is no way on heaven/earth/hell that my father would ever touch a child. If someone had a gun to his head telling him to do it, my father is the type that would reach up and blow his own brains out before touching a child in that way.

And worst of all- I know my family will get through this. I know my family loves my father and we will help him move past this- but the worst part is knowing that because of some sick asshole my father has now been robbed of the joy of his own grandchildren. Anyone who really knows my father can agree. He'll never fully let himself enjoy his own grandchildren when they come because of this. He'll never totally get over this hurt. He may not have had the most love for his sister in law, but he loves(loved?) his nieces and nephew and them believing this of him.... that he will never forgive even.

And there you have it. The messing start to 2013 that I've had.