The Release of Validation

After a month of missed calls, broken promises and the constant struggle of trying to establish a proper behavioral development plan from D’s residential school, tonight was the night that we all say down to discuss how we would move forward.The trifecta that exists within my current family structure is obvious, so I suggested that any meeting that take place should be between myself, J and S. Also in attendance was D’s social worker, therapist, residential supervisor, therapy supervisor, and the director of child services at the facility. We were all there and accounted for.

I had only one goal this evening: Unity.

I’ve always thought of myself as having a clear moral view of right and wrong. Regardless of what I feel, I know that unless the three adults in the situation do not get on the same page (and quickly), D has no chance of survival.

We were all NOT on the same page.

Part of the meeting was to discuss the ‘prison’ that D was currently living in. At least, that’s what she has her mom and grandmother believing: that she is in her room continuously, and they are looking for any excuse to taker her out of there. I don’t mind her coming home for the weekend. In fact, I think it is a necessary part of the reunification process.

Ultimately, I believe our goal should be to have D live with us (her mom and I)

It’s the best case scenario, everyone seemed to agree. I know that’s what J wants. S stayed quiet and cried. Difficult questions were asked, topics were evaded, and I kept on with what I believe is the single most important question in all of our lives:

If D’s relentless and violent obsession is with a specific place, should we be taking her home from residential treatment and take her right back?

Aren’t we just feeding a fire? J could only say that by keeping her from that town we were keeping her from her friends and her childhood; continuously overlooking the violent tendencies, the negative behaviors, and the white trash that she choose to hang out with. More importantly, she saw no positive outcome to anything that we were going through. J could only admit defeat at the idea of D coming back to live with us.I couldn’t agree less and I was very adamant about it. WE decide her fate. WE decide where she should go to school, and WE, as parents should decide what’s best for her.

The therapist’s manager looked right at me and asked me why I continue to fight for this child when clearly her mom and grandmother are not.

I believe that D still has a fighting chance to make it through this. The manager asked me if J and I had marital issues, and I said that we did, but only when it came down to issues regarding D. J came right back and said that she and I only fight when she does not do exactly what I want. I said that my only goal is for everyone to be on the same page, and that I felt that our single greatest issue is that J and S could coordinate and be on the same page with their decisions.

“They ARE on the same page. You are not.”, interjected the therapist. “S wants D to live with her in that town, and J wants whatever S wants!”

It was like a great burden had been lifted.

For the first time in a very long time, I had heard a room of professionals agree with my assessment of the situation. It was like finally someone had heard me. All of these years of fighting has finally amounted to something. A clear signal that I have been fighting for the right cause. I have been given a glimpse of meaning and purpose in an otherwise clouded existence.

It feels selfish to say, but for the first time in my life, I am proud of myself.

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