The price of freedom is great. Outside of war, I can think of no greater place in which this truth becomes evidently clear than within the legal system. There are a great number of us who have paid dearly to remove a toxic spouse from our lives. My case is not new - my price is not greater than the rest. But it’s a sad truth, just the same. This last spring I was talking with my father on the phone one afternoon, as we often did, mulling over life and its ups and downs. He said something that stuck with me, “Lawyers aren’t the ones under oath.” I don’t know if that truly is the case or not, but I do know that while I’ve been in court, many of them show no signs of following any oaths or requirements to retain integrity.
Of course, all sorts of people lie, even when sworn to do otherwise. And I would have to imagine the Judge is fully aware that a good portion of what he or she may hear will be: unsupported allegations, fabricated accusations, and wildly concocted statements. That has to be a very tiring situation in which to be exposed, day after day. I also have to imagine that may be why the Judge often seems to appear thoroughly fed up within moments of having walked out of his chambers. I can’t say I blame him. I would be as well.
While sitting in the courtroom I often wonder what the Judge is thinking as he looks out at the same four people (my estranged spouse, his attorney, me and my attorney), that have come before him far too many times, for far too many months. To put this into better perspective: my divorce made its first appearance before the Judge in the fall of 2009. And we will soon be seated in his courtroom once again. But this time I’m looking forward to the upcoming court date. I don’t enjoy litigation on any level, don’t get me wrong. But this next hearing hasn’t been called by me, it has been called by the Friend of the Court regarding the $11,740.00 in unpaid child support and languid, if not defiant, approach the defendant has had toward the court’s Order by which he is instructed to abide.
There is no possible way to make my children’s father appear in a good light. His blatant disregard and neglect of his children sits smugly on his face, wherever he goes. His attorney knows this, and despite her efforts to appear otherwise, she isn’t a magician. Her only resort (it seems), is to turn everyone’s focus onto someone else - me. We’ve gone through this scenario numerous times already. She has never, however, managed to accomplish more than elevating the already obvious frustrations of the Judge and all involved. Going into this next hearing I knew she would pull another illusionary rabbit out of her hat – and she has. Instead of nudging her client to pay at least the minimum that he is required to pay in support, she points a finger in my direction, and accuses me of having been dishonest when filling out my wage information for the Friend of the Court. I wasn’t dishonest, so I’m not concerned with her newly drummed up accusation. I am, on the other hand, interested in watching her play out this fictional story in front of the Judge. My psychic knew of this upcoming court hearing before I did (which is of course, how it should work). And based upon what she shared, I’ll gladly be in the courtroom that day.
Sadly though, I have to pay for every rabbit the opposing attorney yanks out of her hat. It costs a great deal to defend oneself against false accusations. But I have no choice. And all of these rabbits, increase my legal bill by more than what my children’s father has paid to support his children; in the nineteen months since support was first requested. That total, if you are curious, as of today, stands at $236 and some odd change. That’s roughly $6 per child, per month. But to be fair, if we calculate that amount from the day the Support Order was finally entered into the court system, after being sufficiently tweaked numerous times, he will have contributed $14.75 per child, per month. Apparently, that is all a healthy, 42 year old male, who lives with his parents and doesn’t even have so much as a car payment to contend with (he drives his mother’s station wagon), can scrounge up to help feed and clothe his children.
There is a graphic statement that describes my situation and why the opposing attorney is trying desperately to remove her client and his negligence from the spotlight: You can’t polish a turd.
Sane
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