“True peace is not merely the absence of tension; it is the presence of justice.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

When I wrote my last blog entry, a tribute to Dr. DeGraaff, I went into my treasure trove of pictures from the past. I was looking for the picture of Doreen, holding Marissa a few hours after she was born. I hadn’t submerged myself in that reservoir of riches since 2023, when my friend, Janice, patiently and heroically helped me box up pictures, letters, projects, and albums for the kids. She was dual mission oriented that night – the first being to complete the task at hand, and the second to keep me from finally succumbing to the implosion of my heart.

Rebecca lives 4.25 miles away from me, so, naturally, Janice’s plan was to bring everything to Rebecca’s house. All 3 kids would receive their childhood honeypots in brand new Samsonite suitcases, each filled with immeasurable valuables and a chamber of my heart. I have to especially note a storybook Rebecca created in the 2nd grade, illustrating and sharing the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. The dedication was to me, and it read, “For my Mom, who, despite everything, thinks I’m just right.”

For those of you who don’t know, you might be guessing correctly in that the delivery of the swag bags was an unsuccessful one. Rebecca’s husband did answer the door, but Rebecca stayed far away. Janice was pretty certain that Scott had been grilling on the deck, and that there was a beautiful cherub playing nearby.

It is important to mention that Scott’s grilling was not limited to the meat on the Weber. He had a bunch of questions, (how could he not), and he told Janice that Rebecca and I are estranged. Janice said she was well aware of that. He asked her, “Why now?” and Janice spoke correctly when she explained that now that Rebecca is a mom herself, I thought she might want to have her valuables. Maybe they thought I was dying, and maybe they were hoping for that, but my friend, Janice, just like other friends, some lifelong and some new, was shaken to her core seeing firsthand the reality of my pain and of this door that the kids have bolted shut.

I don’t know my son-in-law, but he looks like such a lovely human being. I know he’s a pediatric nurse, which is telling, and, as the world is a small one, Bob’s friend, Mike, is the head EMT at Chilton Hospital and knows Scott well. Over dinner one night, he was emphatically praising Scott’s kindness and skills, and I think he was surprised to hear that Scott is my son-in-law. Perhaps conversations between them, which I’m certain consisted of Scott’s justifiable boasting about his three beautiful girls and, sadly, his dad’s passing so young from ALS, led to talk about parents and grandparents. Mike and his wife recently became grandparents, and maybe Scott mentioned that his kids only had 2 – Rebecca’s dad and his mom.

That treasure trove did hold joy, memories, blessings, love, warmth, and life, but it also held 3 documents. One was a letter I wrote to Zack, telling him how sorry I was for all the pain the divorce was causing him (and my role in it for being so needy and reliant on him). I even signed a contract saying that I would pull back on that. Next, there was a letter I wrote to Zack’s therapist, with the help of my therapist at the time, Dr. Rhonda Greenberg, figuratively gutting my innards to get him to (as a therapist should do) help reunite Zack and me. Dr. David Velder, yet another Orthodox Jew allowing himself to be an active and pathetic pawn in Jay and his lawyer’s plan to get me to Thelma and Louise it. I would get those EOBs weekly from my insurance company, grateful that his visits were to the therapist and not to medical facilities where he was having CT Scans and MRIs and terrifying diagnoses. G-d knows and Horizon Blue Cross and Blue Shield of New Jersey knows I’ve suffered through way too many of those, not knowing if my son was healthy.

And, speaking of insurance companies and not knowing if my child was whole, on June 30th, 2015, I received a call from my car insurance company. They wanted to talk to me about the accident, but I hadn’t had an accident. Beginning to shake because I quickly realized that Zack must have been in an accident in his car that I leased and insured for him, I just remember crying and screaming into the phone, “Is my son alive? Is my son okay? Please, tell me that my son is alive.” They had no information for me.

Suffice it to say that the ensuing hours were terrifying and scarring. I’m not sure how I even found out that Zack was okay, but I will say that the person with the most grace was the lady from Liberty Mutual, who called me back later that day to check on Zack (and me). I had told her, through tears that only another mother could understand, that I was going through a heinous divorce and that Zack had left me. I said I didn’t even know how to find out if he was okay, as the divorce was so contentious.

Now, let’s get to that third letter, the letter that Jay’s lawyer, Howard Felcher, wrote to my lawyer after my lawyer wrote him a letter saying how nefarious and repugnant it was not to tell me that Zack was in an awful car accident. My lawyer’s partner, in practice for nearly 7 decades, said that it was, by far, the most odious and repulsive letter he had ever read.

Allow me to insert the beginning of the letter:

Dear Mr. Knapp,

Your client certainly had to be aware that the issuance of such a letter would engender a response. My client has been constrained throughout the course of this litigation not to make your client’s conduct with respect to her children an issue to be openly litigated. Your letter of even date has compelled a specific and direct response.

This letter, which I will share with anybody who wants to see it, goes on to launch such ridiculous vignettes. It’s as if he took 2 thimbles of the truth and created a vat of humbug. This letter was in the queue, and he was waiting for some reason to get it to the front of the line. It was hateful and spiteful, and, reading it those weeks ago with eyes that are now both fearless and clear, I can’t believe that I let it send me into a spiral of darkness and terror. It did just what it was intended to do.

Howard Felcher is a bully, but he got Jay’s job done. It’s everything you read about him in the reviews online. I can certainly put those here as well, but, to summarize, they mention losing jobs, losing custody of kids, losing lifelong savings, and, in some cases, being jailed.

I’ll end today’s blog by saying that, after Zack’s car was fixed, I took the car away from him. I listened to a former friend of mine, who, like many with whom I surrounded myself, was a bully. I don’t know why I always looked to the bully, but I think it had something to do with feeling protected around and by them. Truth be told, these bullies never had my back; they were merely disturbers looking to have a front row center orchestra seat in a play in which I didn’t want to be performing.

It was uncharacteristic of me not to give the car back, as I only wanted my kids to love me. Even though it was so inhumane that I wasn’t told about the accident, I was still willing to be an emotional doormat. Judge Casale, who was our judge and who never missed an opportunity to verbally abuse me and make me cry, said he wouldn’t talk to me either if I took his car away.

On December 7th, 2015, almost 3 years after first filing for divorce and after Howard Felcher didn’t respond for almost 6 months to my lawyer’s letters and settlement proposals, Judge Casale said, “I’m beginning to think that maybe Mrs. Jaffe is not the problem here.” Sure, my life was ruined as I knew it, losing all that ever mattered to me, and he first realized it then? He said we would be divorcing that day, but, there were some last minute fixes to be made on the paperwork. Proposing that we could just write the changes in by hand, my PTSD armor of sadness said, “Absolutely not!”

Two days later, on December 9th, 2015, Judge Casale wrapped up our case saying how difficult it had been and to keep in mind that there are kids involved and hopefully, somehow, healing could take place.

On June 13th, 2016, Judge Casale joined Jay’s law firm, Greenbaum Rowe Smith & Davis.