BEST GIFT EVER | LOVE
The Most Unusual Valentine’s Gift: Broken Heart, Handcuffs, Laser Eyes
I will give him the best gift ever.
Handcuffs and Teddy Bears
My heart raced.
The familiar drill of family court was scheduled for Valentine’s Day 2018.
Expect the unexpected hurdles, and stealth verbal snipers filled with hate, to appear.
Each month required our attendance at sessions before the judge, advocates, case workers, and my grandson’s guardian ad litem.
The same formal routine sprinkled with emotional upheavals drained me.
Every time.
It took mere minutes to recognize that the long hallway leading from the elevator to the courtroom wasn’t draped in calmness.
All heads spun slowly around to eyeball our approach. I was acutely aware of my awkward display as I juggled the baby in his carrier, diaper bag, and necessary papers.
A few court personnel had tears. Several mouths were agape and shock clung in the air.
My daughter had arrived with her boyfriend just prior to the baby and me and pulled a Tasmanian devil act.
Sheriff deputies met my grandson’s young parents at the door, cuffed them, and carted them away.
Bench warrants for failure to appear regarding petty theft charges caught up with them.
I missed all the action by minutes.
In her fury, my daughter had broken the small swinging door that separated the public from the judge’s bench.
It hung precariously from the remaining screw that threatened to give way with the slightest pressure.
Hushed manic voices filled me in.
I had already danced this dance.
My heart broke more for the officials than for my daughter or me.
The spectators were innocents caught in a tsunami.
I gave meek apologies in the aftermath.
The judge beckoned me to the bench. Behind him sat an array of Valentine teddy bears to be given to the babies, those caught up in a family legal system they never chose.
The hobbling half door complained as it squeaked and rattled open. I prayed it wouldn’t succumb to total destruction.
I held the baby.
I held my breath.
My grandson’s parents, extended paternal family, and my husband were noticeably absent. A support team who had better things to do.
My temporary guardianship became a solo gig.
My grandson and I were so alone.
And so very small before the judge who towered above.
His face filled with compassion at our sorry image.
In an unusual moment of tenderness, the judge requested to hold my grandson.
He spun his chair around to reach a teddy bear and quietly said,
“You, my boy, deserve the largest one we have. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Dinner with Destiny
We sat at the restaurant table for our last Valentine’s Day together as husband and wife.
Only one of us knew.
I squeezed out the details of the family court from the morning. The evening air hung heavy with all of the unspoken words.
My husband’s absence through the overwhelming State process, leaving me to my own devices, was evident.
He justified his inaction with lame platitudes about my strength and abilities.
He averted his eyes.
Unskilled. Clunky. Obvious.
He dodged my hopeful gaze.
I longed — pined, ached — to hear the words I’d waited for him to release from his clutches.
Our lips danced around the lurking issue. My body tightened as we approached the special Valentine’s Day dessert.
My heart broke a little more with each passing minute.
The time arrived. Do or die during dessert, the final act—Butterfinger cheesecake. The creamy cake mixed with crunchy tidbits of peanut butter is forever etched in my mind.
So too was the moment I knew I had to do the awful.
My husband’s unwillingness to take action and help bale the excess water out of our sinking marital ship was the final straw.
His words said as much — contrite yet pompous in his decision to avoid a different personal life issue that would continue to haunt and follow him, suffocate him, and bring anyone near him down in his self-imposed misery.
His choice would not be mine.
I chose survival.
Someone had to take charge of life lest it spiraled out of control even more.
The server cleared our plates and broke the heavy silence as silverware clanked against the pottery and glassware.
My husband rose and carried on as if all was well.
I stood knowing I would file for divorce.
Laser Focus
It’s time to overwrite the ugly from my grandson’s timeline.
And mine.
I will give him the best gift ever.
Valentine’s Day 2023 will be the 5-year anniversary of that family court and dinner of awakenings.
Love stinks.
Until it doesn’t.
To celebrate our new beginning, my grandson and I will visit the original family courthouse on the 14th of February.
We aren’t going to reminisce about an event he has no memory of but file a petition for adoption.
Finally.
A legal adoption.
My grandson deserves it, and so do I.
And, chocolate.
Lots of chocolate.
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