An update

I want to say how deeply I appreciate the support I get from you guys who read this blog. It means a very great deal.

Obviously I'm not posting much these days. Part of it has to do with the fact that the last month has been an intensely busy one this month; but of course as you guys no doubt suspect, it's mostly that the divorce is not going well and I'm trying not to talk about it. I do, however, want to give you guys an update in rather carefully general terms, as I know that you guys care very deeply about my family and that for a number of you this blog is your only means of knowing how things are going.

About the difficulties of trying to find a way to cooperate with Dessie in order to come to mutual agreement about the terms of divorce and the general welfare of the children, the less said the better, I'm afraid.

Of the nine children in the house (Anya, Natasha, Kasia, Kristina, Sean, Kegan, Merry, Rusty and Sally), there is one who pretty much thinks the divorce is 100% my fault and who as much as possible avoids being with me or speaking to me; and about that relationship, again, the less said in this forum the better.

The relationship with Natasha is obviously complicated by the fact that I have no legal relationship with, or responsibility for, that young lady, having ceded any guardianship rights when I left the house a few months ago. So, for example, when I was told she was ill one day I had to point out that I had no authority to check her out of school. I don't know what arrangements Dessie and the Browns made between themselves, nor does Dessie have any obligation to inform me of any problems or issues involving Natasha. Furthermore, I have pretty strong opinions about the respect and deference due to her parents, and I like her parents very much and feel a lot of regret for the pain they've suffered as a result of agreeing to get involved with Dessie's and my Kazakh kid project; but my impression (which could be wrong) is that there's lots of conflict and hard feelings between Dessie and Natasha and Natasha's parents, and I don't want to make things worse by getting in the middle of THAT, especially when I don't really know what's going on. On the other hand, I love the kid; and I feel quite a bit of moral responsibility for her, since she's in the situation that she's in pretty much entirely because of my meddling; and she calls me "Papa" just as do Anya and Kinya, with whom she shares a room; and I pay her an allowance calculated by the same rules as the other kids'. So that one's complex. She turned eighteen on Saturday, though, which changes the legal picture considerably...it doesn't change her relationship with me, but it changes her relationship with Dessie and her parents, and is likely to change her own behavior in unpredictable ways. We'll see what happens. In the meantime, she and I have been getting along fine, at least.

That leaves seven other children, with all of whom my relationships seem to have stabilized and indeed, in the case of five of the seven, improved rather dramatically over the last couple of months. Mostly they seem to have taken the eminently sensible view that whatever Mom and Dad are fighting with each other about, is Mom and Dad's problem; so I don't get this how-can-Evil-Dad-treat-Saintly-Mom-so-bad nonsense from them -- a good thing, since I could only defend myself from such charges of wrongdoing by telling them a great many details of their mother's behavior that I have no intention of telling them, for many reasons, including but not limited to (a) I feel strongly that children ought not to have to sit and listen to their parents' getting trashed even if the trashing is justified, and most especially of all when the trasher is the other parent, this constituting in my opinion a form of child abuse, plus (b) I'm sure I don't see the whole situation objectively and therefore no matter how hard I tried to be fair I wouldn't manage to be, plus (c) you ought not criticize people when they aren't there to defend themselves and Dessie and I spend as little time in each other's vicinity as possible, and (d) to put it bluntly, it's none of the kids' business.

As long as Dessie's not around, in fact, the kids and I do very well. When Dessie is there, of course, the kids lock down emotionally. I don't for a moment imagine that this is because The Bad Parent has shown up; I'm sure that when I'm not around Dessie and the kids do fine. But obviously the kids can't be themselves when Dessie and I are in the same place because everybody's tension levels go through the roof. That problem is of limited effect, however, because the family courts in their wisdom guarantee each parent a certain amount of time with the kids without the other parent, and after one disastrously misguided attempt to be generous and let Dessie share time on one of my weekends, I've had the sense to protect that space pretty carefully. So (with the exception of the kid who considers me to be Evil Dad) generally speaking when the kids and I are in each other's company these days, it's a thoroughly positive experience -- and indeed, in a couple of cases I'd say we enjoy it more than we have in years.

But of course we enjoy it far less frequently than we used to, and I miss them terribly. I try very hard not to whine about it around the kids, who have enough problems of their own without being burdened by mine as well; but that doesn't change the fact that in coming home every day to a house without my kids in it, I am painfully reminded every day that I live in exile from my own heart.

I have said nothing to this point about Duane and Desiree Liong, whose spare bedroom I still inhabit. That is because there are no words adequate to describe those two incredible individuals, whose graciousness and generosity are apparently as limitless as Christ's own -- precisely, I believe, because they have, as Christians are called to do, allowed themselves to become channels through which Jesus pours out upon me daily his very own graciousness and generosity.

But while it is true that I can't find words to describe my gratitude, my parents recently found an effectively concrete way to express some of theirs. I drove up to West Virginia to spend Thanksgiving with my parents, Thanksgiving this year being a Dessie holiday with respect to the kids, and my mother was thrilled and delighted to find out I was coming...but she had a prayer request to make upon hearing the good news. This request was that she would bag her deer on the first day of deer season without wasting any time, since deer season opened the week of Thanksgiving and she wanted as much time as possible to spend with me.

We interrupt this anecdote to deal (cheerfully, I hasten to add) with an inevitable objection from the highly valued liberal bloc amongst my readers: For you urban types who think there's something perverse about the idea of praying for success in killing a deer...um, who exactly do you think created lions and tigers and sharks and all those other predators? When my niece watches wild-animal-kingdom shows, she cheers for the predators -- when the wildebeest or gazelle or whatever gets caught up to and dragged down she gives the cheetah a pump fist and a hearty "Yes!" -- and I'd be mighty curious to hear anybody give a rational explanation of what's wrong with such an allegiance. Though naturally y'all are welcome to cheer for the wildebeest if you prefer. (Los-ahs! Oh, oops, did I say that out loud? My bad.)

God, not being an urban Democrat [evil editorial chuckle], granted my mom's prayer with dispatch, as she nailed a nice fat doe at dawn on the first day of deer season, which was the day I was due to drive out from Houston. Amused by this, I told Duane about it, and his eyes widened. "Deer meat? Your parents have deer meat?"

"Sure."

He sighs wistfully. "Oh, man, it's been so long since I got to eat any deer meat. Do you think your parents might be willing to send a little back with you?"

Well, when my parents found out that Duane and Desiree liked venison, their response was instant and emphatic: "How much can you carry back with you? How much room does their freezer have?" After all, as my mother said a few days later as they loaded up their biggest ice chest, "Take those two as much of that deer meat as you can make fit in there; I can always just go shoot another one for us."

But Duane's joy was short-lived: I didn't get back until very late on the night before Desiree and the twins left to go see grandparents in the Phillipines for two months. For lunch the next day, while I was gone to work, the Liongs had some of the venison steak -- and Desiree then informed Duane, apparently, that he was not to eat any more of that venison until she got back from the Philippines and could get her fair share of it. A co-worker suggested the other day that, considering how much I brought back with me, Duane could probably get away with sneaking a steak or two out of there without getting caught; but Duane mournfully (mock-mournfully, you understand) said, "I think she counted them."

So what with Duane and me both sitting around the house all day missing our families, chez Liong is not exactly Party Central at the moment. I think we'll have six Level 70 World of Warcraft characters apiece by the time Desiree gets back. (Actually, I won't, because I am in the middle of an apartment search, since Duane's parents are coming back with Desiree in February and will need the spare bedroom, and so I don't really have much spare time. But I think last Sunday Duane started the day by creating a brand new WoW character and ended it with the character at Level 26; so he's genuinely a threat to set records.)

Well, there's your update. I'm sorry they have been so infrequent.

I needn't say, but will say anyway with great emphasis, that your prayers are unspeakably appreciated, especially the ones you guys offer on behalf of my children.