A Life of Compromise: 4. How to Be Released and Then Imprisoned
Last updated: 04 May 2020 16:37
How to Be Released and Then Imprisoned
And I would say that the real hell didn’t start with came next after being on the run: my parents filing divorce with the Dallas County Family Courts. While I will not say, the divorce trial was the beginning of the real hell, what the judge ruled in that trial certainly excavated a deep enough chasm to contain sai hell. While the court system was somewhat wise in not immediately granting my father immediate custody, their deep-seated seeded racist tendencies kicked into high gear. And by ‘their,’ I mean the judge, my dad, his attorneys, my grandma, etc. You see, they could not give custody of the boys to the boys’ mother because, one, she was a foreigner who, God forbid, decided to make English her second language and that, two, she would take her half-Korean, half-white baby boys, back to the third world slum ghettos known as South Korea.
Exhibit A of South Korea circa 1980, your honor.
Oh, the humanity! Two boys with two parents that neither could be seen to be fit as caretakers. The resolution was for the boys to stay in ‘managerial custody’ with the father’s mother.
This grandmother would be Frances: Mim-maw to her grandchildren and me. Mims or Frank when texting back and forth with my brother. A blessed saint who helped raised and blessed every single baby who was checked into the Sunday morning nursery from the 1970s to her retirement in the mid-2000s.
And her reputation was well-deserved. She was a saint. She feared and loved God with all of her soul. She prayed for every single one of her degenerate kids and grandkids until the day she passed away. Yet, as I am painfully learning in raising three kids, parenting is difficult, and we cannot parent perfectly.
Post-kidnapping and amid divorce, trauma, and confusion, she brought my brother and me into her home. When she had us in her custody, it was as close to heaven as I could ever imagine. (Let me be honest: my bar for life on earth thus far was set pretty low.) But she loved God and tried to raise all of her children to love God. And at least I got to catch glimpses of God when I was with her.
Everything felt good and right. She even took us to Disney World.
But not too long after that, we had to go live with my dad and his new wife. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I certainly did not like it at all.
My first memory of being in the new apartment was I woke up first, and my dad and his new wife were still in bed. We were told to go outside. So I decided to pick up my new R/C Tank and head to the great unknown. Then this bigger kid makes a beeline to me, picks up my tank, and walks away.
I tried telling my folks. But they just yelled at me to leave them alone.
My dad has always been unsafe. His new wife is just like him. I still remember crying because my mom just abandoned us. And my grandmother just left us here.
I was all alone. No one will protect me. No one will keep me safe. No one will love me.
All of life’s lessons learned before the age of 7.