BROKEN

It was very difficult after the verdict; it was so surreal like a time warp or a bad episode of ‘Twilight Zone.’ It felt as if a wet wool coat had been flung over my head, making it difficult to breathe, trying to remember how to breathe. And yet, I was also thinking, at the same time, “This nightmare is over, in a couple of months everyone will realize what a farce this whole thing had been, we would certainly win on appeal. My ex daughter in law would be found guilty of perjury and child abuse, she would lose all custody, my son and his daughter would finally and thoroughly be done with her and they could continue their lives in peace. I remember telling my family who were standing in the courtroom next to the lawyer (my husband, my daughter and her husband, my brother-in-law, who had come from Connecticut to offer his support), “It’s okay, we will have a better Christmas this year.” As it turned out I was way too optimistic, not a better Christmas—a Christmas like a death in the family but no body to bury, no funeral, no friends stopping by with casseroles. What we got instead were neighbors who grabbed their children and herded them inside their homes when they would see us in the yard, people we had known for years who turned into crickets, people we knew in stores turning away, going down other aisles when they saw us, cashiers glowering and grimacing as if their shoes were too tight, co-workers I had known for over 30 years questioning why I didn’t change my name and despite being a nurse manager, being told that I was no longer “needed” at staff meetings. Even family members disappeared with the apparently required lame excuses of, ‘Terrible, sorry, I have no words’ and then nothing but crickets. They forgot phone numbers, how to write letters or even how to respond to text messages.