I just want to tell you guys a little about what my life has been like growing up, and how God has pulled me through and made me stronger. This is going to be a really long page, and is the compilation of many posts, so here goes. For the past 3, almost 4 years my life has been a living hell. You know when you are watching a movie full of cops and such, and you are thinking to yourself, WOW, I don't know if I could live through that... well my family just did.
Intro
My dad, due to deep residing hatred against CRA for stealing millions of dollars back in '95 decided to not pay income taxes. He filed zero's on his tax returns, and my mom did as well to keep our family together. This of course had to come to an end at some point, and in November of 2009 they (meaning cops, family services, CRA employees, as well as who knows else) raided our home and seized all of my dad's paperwork as well as went through EVERYTHING in the house. And I mean everything.
I was at in class at the time at the Christian School in town. I was currently in grade 10, and had no idea what was happening just 4 km away. The secretary came to my class and asked to see me, which was strange because that wasn't something that ever happened. The worst scenarios were going through my head... my parents died in a car accident, my brother died from a drug overdose, my grandfather passed away... I never imagined what would happen next.
She brought me to the office and said that I had a visitor that wished to speak to me... and at this I was extremely confused... like more than normal. She brought me to the principle's office and introduced me to a family service representative. She seemed nice and all, but I was a little confuzzled (yes that is a word) as to why she was visiting me. I mean, my parents weren't child beaters.... so what was this all about.
I soon got my answer as she explained that they were investigating my family as we were brought to their attention. She wouldn't say by whom or why, but I just went along with it. She proceeded for the next hour to pump me with questions about how my parents raised me, how they treated us kids, how we were punished etc. Now I will be the first to say that I got MANY whippings and other various forms of disciplining as a child (including the removal of books for two weeks :P), but I know that I deserved them in some way, shape or form. I knew my parents loved me, and were trying to raise me to become the God-fearing woman that I am now. Nearing the end of the hour she asked me when the last time my parents had punished me with the belt. I of course answered with as much truth as possible in saying it had been a while, but how long I had no idea.
Even at the age I was, I knew that the wrong answer could put us kids in a relative's residence... and that scared me. I was "careful" with everything I said, fearing what she was writing in that notepad of hers. Little did I know that my older brother Caleb, by 1.5 years, was in the room beside mine also talking to a family service rep. He was grilled the same way, and I am assuming answered in the same form as me.
She finally allowed me to return to my class, in which I had a hard time acting like life was normal and that it wasn't just about to fall apart! I sat through the remaining hour of class and waited anxiously for my mom to pick me up, all the while pretty much ignoring my friends around me. The moment I got into the vehicle I knew life wouldn't be the same again. She drove Caleb and I home, all the while explaining what was going on. She seemed shocked to find out that we had been talked to already, and was furious that she was not told by family services before they spoke to us. And the funny thing was, that we were both told that our parents were told about our meeting and were fine with it.
The Home Scene
I was in for the shock of my life when we drove onto the driveway and discovered about 20 cop cars as well as about another 10 civilian cars on our driveway and street, some with the lights still flashing. My mom informed my brother and I to pack up about a weeks worth of clothes and anything else we would need because we were moving into a family friend's house for the time being.
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| Our view off the back of the property |
I packed my clothes and grabbed all my school stuff as well as some books and my volleyball gear. I remember grabbing some shirts as my mom walked into my room and looked at me with huge tears in her eyes. She just stood in the doorway, looking about to break into pieces, and the only thing I could do was go to her and give her the biggest hug ever and tell her that everything would be OK, and that we just had to pray.
Once ready, she drove us over 3 blocks and dropped us off, all the while telling us she would be by soon to check up on us. To keep this portion of the story from going on forever... I am going to hurry it up and just say that we lived there for a month and a half while my parents fixed an "apparent mold problem" that could be "SMELLED" from the upstairs to the downstairs (not actually possible) as well as correct some of the wiring and electrical in the house that was unfinished as we were in the middle of a renovation.
The Waiting
I don't know if I have ever told y'all, but I am an extremely impatient person! When I say impatient... I mean IMPATIENT!!! We were finally allowed to move back into our house, which I am extremely thankful for, because it was so hard to explain to everyone at school (I was in grade 10 at the time) why I wasn't getting a ride from my parents to school, why I couldn't have friends over, why I always needed rides for volleyball practices and games, why I only had about 10 sets of clothes, why I didn't seem like myself, etc, etc, etc. I could go on, but I won't. We eventually (Nathan, Caleb and I) moved back in to our house and everything seemed to go back to normal.
You could almost say that we forgot what had happened, but we didn't. It was lurking in the back of our minds every day, wondering when the cops would come knocking with the verdict. Days went by, then weeks, and soon months were zipping by and I couldn't stop them. I didn't want to ask my mom if she knew what was happening, and asking my dad was just not a smart idea because he was bitter and angry all of the time. I slowly began to shut down my emotions, especially where my dad was concerned.
I know it sounds like a sad and horrible thing, to stop caring for your father, and at times I look back and wonder why I didn't notice what I was doing, but I guess I was too focused on forgetting the experiences and just wanted to move on.
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| Waiting is just like winter... it never seems to end |
A year went by and we were still left wondering if something bad was going to happen. I would find my mom sitting on her bed sometimes, just staring off into space, and I'd carefully crawl onto the bed, sit beside her, and just lean my head against her shoulder. We would just sit there, for 10 minutes, 30 minutes. However long it took for us to get back to reality.
Throughout this waiting period I guess we almost forgot. Well at least I almost did. Not in the emotional sense, but just in how much I consciously thought about it. Don't get me wrong, it was always on my mind, but I just seemed to accept this anxious waiting as normal, and didn't notice how tense our house was constantly.
This of course is when all the big problems with my older brother Caleb started. We argued constantly. I don't mean just arguing, but arguing to the point where one of us was choking the other, and punches and kicks were flying everywhere. I began to loose my focus on what family really looked like because our house was so tense that we couldn't get along worth beans.
The Hiding Place
By February 2011, we almost expected nothing would ever happen with the paperwork they took from us.
They had returned the boxes by then (all the stuff they took from my dad), and we all began to breath a little better thinking nothing would come of it. Suddenly everything took a turn for the worst!
I knew something was going on, because my mom was extremely upset, and my dad wasn't in the house at all. I was in my grade 11/12 year (I had enough credits, so I decided to graduate a year early from High School and just be done with the drama that came with it) and I was struggling with having extra courses on my plate. Eventually I went to my mom, after a couple days, and asked her what was going on. She gave me the scariest look... one I will never forget; one of absolute hopelessness.
She steered me to my room and shut the door. She then began to ask me if I remembered the "RAID". I told her yes, and she proceeded to tell me that her and Dad had received a summons to appear in court. Dad decided that they weren't going to, because he was listening to all these "WISE MEN" that told him he wasn't required to show up. A bench warrant was then issued, and the cops were on the lookout for both of them. At this my mom asked me to not tell Nathan (Caleb was in Bible School at the time), and to keep it a secret for a while.
After a period of time (I do not remember how long), the cops started to come by the house. The first time this happened was honestly so surreal that I felt like I was in a movie. We heard a vehicle pull up and we looked out the blinds. When we saw the two cop cars we got everyone together and hid so that we were not visible from any windows. I don't know how we did it, but the cops didn't see us and they proceed to knock for quite some time, demanding we open the door. After a while they left and we had to then discuss what we were going to do next.
The cops proceeded to come quite often, coming during the day, and at night. We discovered that the best place to hide was in my bedroom because you could just see out the window enough to see the cops at the front door, and hear them talking, but we could stay hidden behind the blinds. There were times when the cops walked around the house, checking windows and doors, peering behind curtains with the flashlights. So many times they would almost catch a glimpse of us, and we would hold still, and hope that we weren't casting a shadow or breathing too loudly.
Truffle, my dog (bichon-havanese) would bark like crazy because she knew something was wrong, and all I could do was hold her and calm her down. She would shake uncontrollably because she had no idea what was going on, but could sense our fear. There were many times I thought my heart would beat right out of my chest. This went on until the beginning of march... and this is where the next part comes into play. I'll tell you more about that later.
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