Tissue Castle

Daughter called Mother.


“My attorney advised me,” Daughter started, calmly, “to contact you and see if you were planning on testifying on my ex-husband’s behalf in our current custody case.”

“No,” Mother said, dryly, with her standard dramatic flourish, “I’m not planning on testifying at all. I’m going to be out of town when you go to court. And I felt really thrown under the bus the last time around.”

Of course, the “last time around” was when Daughter’s ex-husband listed Mother as a witness for him, and she was interviewed by the Guardian ad Litem, lawyer for the children, who had based her decision on Mother’s statements. None of those statements were officially contained in the Guardian ad Litem’s report. But the Guardian ad Litem had not made it a secret that Mother was the main reason why she had decided the case the way she had. From there, Daughter’s attorney stated that she might have to depose Mother. And from that statement, Mother and ex-husband stated that Daughter was attacking family members and threatening them. These statements, that Daughter was attacking family members and threatening them, were recorded officially. When Daughter’s attorney deposed ex-husband, he was asked if he understood that the statements about deposing Mother came solely from her and not from Daughter. He said he understood. She said that the only reason why she was being deposed was because Mother was on ex-husband’s witness list. He said he understood that. She asked him if he understood that, because of these two things, Daughter could not be considered to be making threats, as these were official legal actions taken in response to his witness list and had originated from the attorney, and not Daughter. Of course, ex-husband understood that. But he hadn’t said those things about Daughter because he thought they were truthful, or even because he thought they would help his case or his boys. He had said them to hurt Daughter. That’s always been his reason. To hurt Daughter. And when he told Mother that Daughter was attacking her, she believed him. She didn’t check on it. She didn’t think about it. She just believed him. He said Daughter was attacking her and threatening her, then it must be so. And even when attorney asked ex-husband if he understood that Daughter wasn’t attacking him, he didn’t straighten that out with Mother. He left her blindly believing that Daughter had attacked her. If he had gone to Mother and said that Daughter wasn’t actually attacking her, it would have lessened the tension between Mother and Daughter. And he would not be doing that. So Mother blindly believed him. And she continued to blindly believe the ridiculous story that she had been put on ex-husband’s witness list, and then Daughter had threatened and attacked her.

“Last time around, I was really thrown under the bus,” she repeated, coldly. She, too, was trying to hurt Daughter for all the things Daughter had done wrong. Of course, Mother couldn’t actually list anything that Daughter had done wrong. In all fairness, Daughter had not done anything wrong. But Mother didn’t like facts. Mother didn’t like thinking for herself. Mother operated on feelings, and her feelings told her that Daughter had thrown her under the bus.

“Okay,” Daughter responded, “but are you planning to testify on ex-husband’s behalf?”

“No. I’m going to be out of town when you go to court. Besides, I told you I wasn’t getting involved in all this. Why would you think I would testify on his behalf?”

“Well,” Daughter steadied herself, “my attorney told me that, while it hadn’t been officially reported, one of the deciding factors for the Guardian ad Litem was that you had told her that my ex-husband was a better parent than I am.”

There was a deep silence. The kind of silence you can feel. And within that silence, it was obvious that Mother had said those words: My Daughter is not as good a parent as her ex-husband, my ex-son-in-law. It was obvious by the lack of apology. It was obvious by the lack of shock. It was obvious by the extended silence. And it was obvious by the lie that calmly slid out of her mouth, ending the silence.

“I don’t remember saying those words,” Mother said.

And as Daughter said goodbye to her Mother, she knew that Mother did, in fact, remember saying those words. And Mother’s silence was because she was being confronted with words she had intended to be kept secret. Words that were supposed to be kept between her and the Guardian ad Litem. Words that should have been printed in an official report, but were kept secret, and were used as the biggest reason for that report being written with favorable words towards ex-husband. It’s impossible for Daughter to respond to allegations she doesn’t know exist. It’s impossible for Daughter to defend herself against things she doesn’t know have been said. It’s close to impossible for Daughter to win a case when that happens. And that’s why Mother had told the Guardian ad Litem to keep that secret. Those silent attacks were standard for Mother and ex-husband. The silent attacks are impossible to defend against because you don’t know where they’re coming from, how many things are being said, or what exactly is being said of you so there’s no way to know what to do or say as a response. All you know is you’re being attacked, and you will never know why, from whom, or what about. They are the attacks of cowards. The attacks of people who cannot attack you publicly, because everything they could say would wilt in the face of any kind of public scrutiny. So they are said as whispers, secrets. They are said under false intimacy. “I trust you enough to tell you this, that my Daughter isn’t fit to mother those boys. Her ex-husband is much better. And it pains me to say that about my own Daughter, but it’s true. Please don’t put that in your report. I wouldn’t want to hurt my Daughter. I am a loving Mother, after all.” You almost don’t even think about it when it’s said like that. Of course you’re going to keep that out of the report, because you don’t want to damage the relationship between Mother and Daughter. And of course you’re going to think horrible things about the Daughter, because it’s been left entirely to your imagination what Daughter could have possibly done to have her own Mother say she was not as fit as her ex-husband. And of course you’re not going to question Mother about it, because she’s upset that she has been forced to say these words against her own Daughter. And so, the investigation stops there. The report is based on words as thin as tissue paper. All you need to do is ask the simple question why—“why is Daughter not as fit as ex-husband?”—and the whole thing falls apart. But Why doesn’t get asked. And Why doesn’t go in the report. And so a report is based on empty words, said by an empty Mother, given to her by an ex-husband who is trying to hurt his ex-wife, her new husband, and his son because they are proof that he wasn’t the Perfect Father-Husband he had presented himself to be. They could even possibly be proof that he’s gay. And the more he bashes them into the ground, the more he bashes those unholy and indecent imperfections into places where people won’t look. And from that place of repression, ex-husband lashes out, fills Mother with thoughts she’s eager to believe, and Mother feeds them to the Guardian ad Litem, who writes a report stating that the father has done nothing wrong.

“I don’t remember saying those words.” The words seemed to echo in the emptiness that followed them. Daughter knew that Mother was lying. Daughter knew that Mother would continue to lie. And as she hung up the phone, Daughter knew the silent attacks would continue forever.