12-23-2002

My Dearest Nicholas,

My heart is so full as I watch you sleep - full of love and joy and full of terror and pain. It breaks my heart to realize that, if they have their way, you will grow up never knowing how very truly deeply you are loved . . . and wanted . . . and cherished. 

I watch your chest rise and fall, your eyelashes brush your cheek, your soft hair tossled over your little manly forehead, your hands finally empty as your treasure falls to the blanket. You don’t take many naps anymore but you were playing so hard: so much to do and so much to figure out and so many bad guys to fight and “make good”. We were reading Chapter 3 in your Scooby Doo book when you finally drifted off and I know, if I woke you right now, you would answer every question just right: “Mrs. Baker? Mrs. Baker’s the bad guy! I know” you always tell me “I know all the suspects and all the clues. I always figure it out!” Yes you do. You’re three years old and you always figure it out.

When you’re hungry momi makes you grilled cheese and soup. When you’re tired, we snuggle and read. When you say bad words, you get time out. When you use good manners, you look to momi to see if I notice and I do. When you love Baby, you give her hugs and love and snacks and a blanket and you call her your “chubba chubba” and you smile, happy. Cause and effect. Figure it out. You’re three years old and everything should always make sense.

You always remember to take your dishes to the sink and you want to know when we can get your Scooby Doo dishes out of storage, and your bike, and your toys and your books. You miss your books and your park and your friends and your church and your home. “Can we go home today momi? OK. Tomorrow?” You tell me “Tomorrow we will have our new house and our stuff from storage and Dana is going to call me and be very very sorry.”. You ask me, “Why did Dana hurt me? Will she come back? Doesn’t Dana like me?”. I am so very careful how I answer every question because you remember - everything. You’re three years old and you want to know, figure it out, make it all make sense and you always remember.

You remember what snacks you got at Vacation Bible School (Watermelon Laffy Taffy and I love the way you say Bacashun Bibo Skoo). You remember Aunt Martian’s hotdogs and Elmo in smarty pants. You remember the train at Disneyland and how the whistle sounds. You remember playing at the beach, what a mouthful of sand tastes like and how you cried when they took our car. You remember the day Baby came home and you told her, “I’m gonna be the best big brother ever!”. You remember and you try every day. You remember the books we read but no longer have - you remember Pickles the Cat, “Good and Bad just like me - right momi? You love me even when I’m bad - right momi?” Right Nicholas. You remember everything - for now.

But what will you remember if they get their way? Will you remember singing “I have you two” with your momi, when Tina and Erika tell you you have a new mom? Do you remember drawing rainbows and rolling at the park and will you remember how I drop everything to play with you when you say “Momi, I need some ‘tention!”. Will you remember those things when they tell you that you can never play with your momi again?” Will you remember how you called me “Hey, pretty mama!” just like Johnny Bravo? Will you remember that “momi doesn’t like fighting” when you watch cartoons with your new State-paid family? Will you remember snuggling up in blankets, listening to thunder and watching the lightning and rain with momi and Baby? Will you remember how you snuggled your arm around Baby and said “It’s OK Baby. Momi and I will always take care of you!” Will you remember those things when you haven’t seen Momi or Baby for a month, a year, 10 years?

“Don’t worry Momi!”, you tell me over and over, “I OK!”. Everytime Batman fights a bad guy or leaps off the couch or rolls over the side of the chair, “Don’t worry momi - I OK!”

It’s Christmas Eve - no presents, no lights, no tree. We saw Santa in the store Saturday and he asked you what you want for Christmas. You said, “Nuthin’”. “Nothing?!” Santa asked, “Weren’t you a good boy? Don’t you want Santa to bring you presents?”. “Yep, I good - Santa can’t come to our house ‘cause we’re not gonna be home yet. I’m gonna be with my momi and my Baby and my Michael. But we’ll be home next Christmas. Ill see you next Christmas!” You’re three years old and you want to figure everything out and you remember - everything.

Where will you be next Christmas? If they get their way, where will you be? Will you have presents and lights and a tree? If they get their way, you won’t have momi, or Baby or Michael. What will they do to you? They don’t love you, they don’t know you. Will anyone realize that you remember - everything?

Yes, I know what I did wrong - I asked for help. I needed help with my daughter’s illness. I needed help getting child support. I needed help getting back on my feet after 6 months of “bedrest”. Not only that! Not only did I dare to NEED - I dared to think and speak and try to protect you from Tina and Erika and my parents and your father. I told them that they were wrong! I told them 14 was NOT “old enough to make her own decision to ruin her life” and I told them I would not allow them to hurt you the way they hurt me and NO! My children are not chattel to be bought and sold and abused on a whim.

Yes, I know what I did wrong - and what is the penalty for such hideous crimes? So far, they’ve taken our Dana, our home, our car, our job and income, our health and medical coverage, our friends and family, our churches and school. They’ve destroyed our trust and security, our reputation and career, our innocence and faith in “the system”, our trust and faith in this County - One Nation Under God? - and turned it into a nightmare of greed and lies. Liberty and Justice for all? Not if they get their way.

God gave you to me - my Nicholas, my wildman, my son . . . my snuggle bug, my man with the plan, my heart.

God has protected us, over and over, from Tina, from Erika, from your grandparents, from your father, from the people who want so badly to hurt us, divide us and destroy us. God alone has protected us.

You are here with me today, on Christmas Eve, no presents, no lights, no tree - more like what the real Christmas Eve must have been like, cold and hungry, forced to pay more taxes while looking for shelter and food? - but you are here with me! because God has protected us.

They have taken everything we owned but God would not let them take you. He loves you and He knows.
God loves you, He knows and He will protects you.

You’re three years old and you remember - everything. You figure it out and make it make sense. God will not let you grow up not knowing how very truly deeply you are loved . . . and wanted . . . and cherished. He will Love you and Protect you and you will remember and you will know. I love you. You will know and there can not be a better Christmas gift.