Under Siege

I have not been here for a while. I know that’s not a big deal and you probably didn’t notice and it happens to everyone but I never thought it would happen to me. But you see, we were under attack.

At my new job it is impossible to access the site. I don’t have internet at home. So my times here were heavily reduced- I had to make specific forays to the library to peruse. But I was dealing with that. It wasn’t always convenient, but I did it.

Then came the attack. If you’re reading this you probably already have suffered through some of my other posts where I complain about my unfocused life and celebrate my children. What kind of siege could I possibly suffer in this world? You are probably thinking it was some nightmare or some imagining of mine where I dreamt we were all sheep and were attacked by flying robots from the pink popcorn planet. Although that sounds kind of exciting, it wasn’t that. It was a real siege. The only thing we have of value at my house (even more valuable than our pile o plastic Scape) is Us.

My ex-wife, whom the children enjoy generous and unrestricted access with, decided to move to California. She’s get a joe there with a great job and pile of cash and so she wanted to jump the border and root in the good old USA. The catch, of course, was that she wanted to take my sons with her. My daughter is eighteen and legally an adult and she just said no thank you.

My sons are just eleven and fourteen. She asked them if they wanted to go and I told them that I would support whatever decision they made. There was no other choice for me. I wasn’t interested in keeping them against their will, prisoners. Their mother said they could choose too and brought them to California for almost three weeks- the longest amount of continuous time they’d ever spent with her. They saw the sights and lived in the nice apartment with pool where they might live. They visited the schools and enjoyed the weather. And when they came home to me they said they had decided- and the decision was they wanted to stay here with me. They could visit their mother for vacations.

That should have been the end of it, but their mother announced then that they boys could not decide and they were moving no matter what. We pulled our lawyers out of the closet and she announced that she would never give up and would take it to court until forever.

And then the phone calls started. “Hi boys, we’re leaving tomorrow so you’d better get ready to drive to California.” After the first one my sons decided to go and visit her to try and reason with her, for there was obviously some kind of misunderstanding. They hadn’t agreed to go and weren’t going. But when they got there she and boyfriend talked to my fourteen year old for five and a half hours- until one thirty at night. They made promises, they questioned his judgement, they twisted things and kept the pressure up until he could no longer stay awake. He’s not sure what was said at that point, but when he came back to me the next morning he said he didn’t want to go to California. She claimed he had said yes, even though she had already said they couldn’t choose.

There were more phone calls along the same line. The children didn’t want to speak to her. My lawyer said it was pretty impossible for her to take them against their will. He said even if she drove it all the way to court she would likely lose.

But all emotions are on strings and they pendulum- sometimes I was certain and other times I was scared. I would have let them go. But not once did they tell me they wanted to.

Then I got an email when they were with her saying they had agreed to go and I had an unpleasant two days learning to accept their departure before I saw them again and they said no, they were staying. Always staying. No question.

Time lost meaning. Everything lost meaning. There was only us, and we had some incredibly happy times, living fully in the moment, crazy ridiculous joy. We are so good together. The pressure being put on them by their mother was intense. They were upset, they cried, they were angry, they dreaded seeing her. They said they would never be able to trust anyone again. Now they just want her to go- she thinks she can be happy there and they want her to be happy. But they want to stay here.

We played our version of Scape of course, including one rather amazing siege- shiploads of orcs, goblins and ratmen attacking a dwarven fortified island. The dwarves flew gyrocopters and fought with everything they could but they were overrun and the goblins rats and orcs ran up on the walls and hooted and hollered in triumph. One lone gyrocopter escaped, and flew away into the mist to tell the tale.

My ex-wife told everyone they were moving. All their friends all her friends, anyone who would listen. Then she married her boyfriend so she could get immigrations status. At the wedding everyone asked the boys about California but they felt they had to smile and nod and say nice things because they didn’t want to run her day.

She has pushed them farther away from her than they have ever been before. As it stands I can only assume that she is building her case for court- for she tells us nothing. But the boys won’t go. My one son says that his mother will have to drag him onto a plane and as soon as it lands he’ll start walking back. She has made it into an ugly fight which hurts everyone -but she will end up the biggest loser. They will never forgive her for this. They will never trust her again.
I spent as much time as I could just being with the boys. We just played and talked. We laughed and cried. I promised them I would do everything I could to support their decision, no matter what it was, and that’s what I have done. I’ll fight it in court. I’ll just stand beside them when they need someone to talk to.

I’ve tried hard not to complain too much in these blogs. Who wants to read that? I have not written about my ex-wife. It’s an old story and really not very interesting. The children seldom mention her. But there it is. I have not been here because I could not leave our citadel, even for an instant. We are under siege, and the children know their attacker. She’s camped out there still, waiting, unwilling to truce and parley. And my sons are trying to go on about their lives, with this sword hanging over their heads.