Failure to Appear (6)
Picking up where I last left off (losing stability), my sister Jessica had just been born two months early. My mom and my grandpa had fought which resulted in a heart attack and my grandpa’s funeral. My dad had attended his funeral, as did some of the family, but my mom was not there. She had secluded herself back into the drug infested apartment and lifestyle with John. 
Now I know that things are different now, but I am having trouble grasping how a hospital could release a drug baby back to her mother without so much as a question. I don’t know how it happened or why, but it did. A month after Jessica was born she was released back to my mom and John. My mom cared no more for her than she did for me. She was left to cry for hours in soiled diapers and was rarely fed. At the age of three I became the only mother figure in Jessica’s life. I changed her when I could find clean diapers, and even that was a commodity. I made sure she was fed when I could find something to feed her. At least she had someone looking after her. I wish that I did.
About a month after my sister came home a man showed up at the door and handed my mom a stack of papers. I remember that stack of papers rather well because it was the first time I became familiar with running mascara. I know that sounds kind of strange but the image of my mother’s tears causing the black mascara to run down her pale face is one that is imprinted in my brain. This became quite a common sight for me. It was like war paint. This stack of papers made her cry and it was the first time this image of her in war paint appeared in my life. I later found out that this stack of papers had come from the court. My dad had done it. He was suing her for full custody.
I’m not sure how much time passed between being served the papers and packing up the car. My dad says she had 30 days from the time she was served until the court date listed in the paperwork. All he knows is that she never showed. The judge awarded my dad custody that day based on her “no show” and the statements of suspected abuse and such. Reading over the paperwork as an adult, there were statements from her neighbors saying that I was commonly found wandering in or near the street either nude or in a diaper. People were constantly having to bring me back to the apartment because I had no supervision . I wish they hadn’t. In any case, a social worker and an officer escorted my dad to my mom’s apartment to pick me up after the hearing that day. When they arrived at the apartment with the police to get me, the apartment had been cleaned out. How long we had been gone, no one knew.
I have memories of being in the car for what seemed like forever. I have no idea what kind of car it was but I could describe the vinyl of the back of the drivers seat well. Jessica cried whenever she wasn’t asleep and I felt like I was always hungry. What my mom didn’t know was that she was in the process of being charged with parental kidnapping. What my dad didn’t know was that I was being taken across the country. My mom and John had this bright idea that we could all move in with his family back east and no one would ever find me. After all, no one really knew anything about him. They had no idea where he came from.
You have me on the edge of my seat once again my friend. I think we should start writing that book of yours. Great post – for someone who has gone through as much crap as you have, you seem to be very grounded and this amazes me. So many people who go through similar experiences are not as grounded as you. Kudos to you!
I think we should also. Shoot me an email and we can talk about it. Thanks for the encouragement.
i’m also “on the edge of my seat”
& second the thoughts of Ann. I really think u should write a book. You’re a very talented writer and where you leave your posts always cuts the story off at just the right moment to leave me going…”what’s next!!!” 
http://coffeecounsel.wordpress.com/
Thanks so much! And, yes- I think we do have the same friend! LOL
Your story broke my heart all over again. Really really sad to read such things, because in no way this should ever happen. I have utmost respect for the well put way you write it all. Please keep on going. I’ll be following every step of the way!
Thanks so much for the encouragement! I look forward to reading your thoughts as I go.
Just caught myself up on your story. I only hope when I get all my facts gathered I can write it as well as you. so much to go through at such a young age. keep it coming!
I will. Thanks so much for reading.
I second Ann and Coffeecounsel in that the most astonishing for me is that you are obviously able of writing this story in clear and grounded way – it makes it “easier” to read, since I know there is a “good ending” (I understand you don’t have a fairy tale life, but you seem to be educated, in a stable, non-violent marriage, have access to healthcare (and the internet), … which is almost more than I’d expect for someone growing up under those circumstances – apologies if that sounds prejudiced). I feel like a voyeur but I’m very curious to see how you made it from “there” to “here” and managed to cope with all this.
It doesn’t sound prejudiced at all, no worries. I completely understand where you are coming from. I’m not the adult you would expect after going through the things that I did. Some of the people in my family weren’t as lucky. I think that I just had the perfect storm, the kind that created the strength to fight back. I am actually writing this to work through the mess and determine why I think the way that I do. Thanks so much for reading and sharing your thoughts.
DAMMIT! Just when I think something turns around! I saw the picture of the backseat while I was reading your dad got full custody and thought “YES” until I read whose backseat was pictures (figuratively of course, that wasn’t really your mom’s backseat).
I’ll be waiting for the next installment. Again with the high hopes!
lol. Sorry it wasn’t what you expected. Thanks for reading. I will have the next installment soon!
It may not have been what we thought at the moment, but it certainly shows you’re a good writer to have that kind of a twist. Either that, or we’re bad readers. XD
You know, all this talk about how we’d expect someone growing up under the conditions you grew up in to be a bad person, it makes me think of that age-old question, natures vs. nurture.
In your case, Nature Beats Nurture. And a good thing, too. I would like to encourage you further as everyone else seems to be doing, write that book!
Thank you dear, I think I will!
Wow…this is insane. I was waiting for Dad to the rescue! Ugh …at least you know I’m coming back to find out what happens!
I’ll be posting the next segment soon. A lot of people expected the same thing you did. It would have been nice. Thanks for following along.
Ooh, seems I have a few posts to catch up on!!
Thanks for reading.
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oh my gosh this is good. on to the next chapter!