Sorry about having to take a break but each time I go back down that road it really drains me. It's no wonder I've been such an emotional mess all these years. Let me continue...
The next morning February 15, 1989 I drove Ex#2 to the police station for his appointment with the detective. I sat out in the waiting area for what seemed like hours but was really just about an hour. All kinds of things were going around in my head where he was going to go, how long would it be before I could bring home my kids, I hope they keep his ass, what if they don't? Finally a man opened the door and asked me to come back into an office with him. As I sat down I was told that they had talked with my husband and he won't answer their questions but had asked for an attorney so they will be sending him downtown to the county jail. He then handed me his wallet and his wedding band. They asked me if I wanted to see him before I left and I said said yes. I was shown into the room where he was being held and just stood there looking at him, he staring at me for just a brief minute before dropping his eyes. I said something to him like " why don't you just answer their questions?" He looked at me and said "I am not stupid I need to talk to a lawyer first." and just kept glaring at me like he was daring me or something. I really don't remember if I said anything to him I turned around and got out of there as fast as I could, got in my car, lit a cigarette, hit the clutch, put it in gear, and drove home as fast as I could.
When I got home I sat down on a chair and broke down crying. I cried and cried for a long time. My phone was ringing, I remember picking it up but I don't remember who it was or what was said. All I remember was crying and feeling like I was falling into the deepest black hole that I couldn't see the bottom of. I don't know what time of day it was when one of my sisters showed up at my door. She came a long way to stay with me to help me through this tough time because my other sister (the one who had my kids) had called her. Later on my other sister came over so I had both of them there doting over me trying to get me to eat, trying to get me to drink, trying to get me to talk. I don't remember what we talked about. I don't remember much about that day or much about any of that week really except calling in to work to take time off. I do remember talking with someone on the phone from Children's Services and then from a place called Grace House for a long time. They told me they were not going to hang up unless I promised to come in to their office the next day. So I guess I must have made that promise because I did go there. I'm really glad I did.
Grace House Sexual Abuse Resource Center in Dayton, Ohio was a Godsend to me. I think I was there every day of the week between my appointments with a therapist and appointments for each of the girls. It was quite intensive at first but eventually we were able to schedule appointments so that I wasn't killing myself going to work then driving to my sister's to get a kid to take them to their appointment, then taking them back to my sister's, then finally getting home myself at 10p only to do it again the next day but with a different kid. And if no one had an appointment then I went straight from work to my sister's to spend time with the girls then went home at 9p or so. My sister's house was at least a 20 to 30 minute drive from mine. How the hell did I do that?
Finally, CSB allowed the girls to come home after about 2 months. Finally, things can get back to almost normal. But...nothing was normal anymore.
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