The Truth Is Easy…
Who’s Easy, and why do I use her name and memory here in “DearEasyDiaries?
Anyone who knows me, has ever been to my home, invited me to theirs, or for a myriad of other reasons has heard of, or been gifted, an “Easy’s Lemon Cake” could probably share with you my love for Easy and her legacy. I’m not exaggerating when I say, those cakes are one-of-a-kind, and absolutely delicious. I have Easy’s original, handwritten (now laminated and safely tucked away) recipe from 1968, and make it often…from memory. Easy made the cake with painstaking care, and passed on the recipe with the caveat, that the cake is only to be made and shared as a gift; the recipe was NOT to be shared. I am a flawed human, however, and have been talked into giving the recipe to half a handful of people; for that I am sorry. I swear to her, and you, now though…that will not happen again. The cake is seriously special.....but nowhere close to as special, as the beautiful soul who wore that name, and will live in my heart forever.
My life was “Easy” because of this rare and beautiful human. I have absolutely no recollection of that kitchen, but those arms and the person who so carefully used them to tend to me will never be forgotten. There’s a quote by Thomas Campbell, which reads… “To live in hearts we leave behind, is not to die.” Cheers to you Mr. Campbell and my love always to Easy.
DearEasy Diaries was first conceived back in September of 2007, as a tool to help me navigate one of the most painful experiences I’d ever known. On Tuesday, September 18, 2007, just five days after being served with divorce papers, my “then” husband had a dozen long stem red roses delivered to me with a note saying he loved me, and a subsequent call explaining that “I needed a reality check, which had been the motivation behind his filing for, and serving me with the divorce proceeding.” All of this, happened just ten days after my sixteen year old daughter confided in me, complete with phone numbers, texts and other supporting messages all confirming, that my husband was engaged in an affair with a woman from home named Candy, or was it Connie; I forget? We had been living a bi-coastal life between Santa Ynez, California and Sea Island, Georgia, for over eight years in order to accommodate Al’s career, as the Architect and Master Plan designer for the Sea Island Company, which was home to the fabled Cloister Hotel and Resort. Al had been charged with, and was responsible for all building and development, starting with Sea Island’s, brand new Ocean Forest Golf Club, and continued through the company’s generational change of leadership in the early to mid 1990’s, through the entire redesign and development of The Cloister Resort and its vast and assorted other entities through 2008 and beyond.
Our marriage and life together had not always, or ever, been perfect, nor free from troubled times, but that one drastic action, the divorce service, and its very public flaunting blindsided and emotionally crippled me in a way I wasn’t prepared for nor equipped to address at the time. Our long-term, permanent home, and family was in California, and Al’s calculated action to serve me divorce papers in Georgia, essentially rendered us, (our two children and me) prisoners. California and Georgia have HUGELY different rules, procedures and legal standards regarding divorce. Al did his research, he knew that fact, and being the strategically manipulative mastermind that he always was, he understood that, without his permission, that one act had made it virtually impossible for me to leave Glynn County, for even a portion of a single day. That type of complete control was what Al thrived on, and was a deeply ingrained element of the life we shared together. Even if I had been able to reconcile Al’s mind games, or the public embarrassment that our children and I endured, having been made the targets of gossip, speculation, as well as the thoughtless judgement and unkind harassment that thrives within that tiny “fish bowl” community, it was the forced separation from any familial support or network of strength which my children and I knew we could count on at home which nearly broke me.
That Al’s divorce counsel, and his family were members of the Sea Island Beach Club, with whom we interacted and saw frequently, as well as the fact that the attorney’s two sons attended the same school as Emily, where they had been “leaking and spreading” vicious lies, and some very private, specific family information about us throughout the small school community, was more than a little disturbing. Combine those factors with the inconceivable coincidence that Al’s lawyer was also campaigning for a Judgeship in Brunswick, Georgia’s up-coming, six-county, regional election, and I was left feeling like a ton of bricks had been added atop the set of walls that were already closing in around us. I was seriously out-matched and completely unprepared for the chain of deception, cover-up and “good ole boy gamesmanship” which was about to take place. Even though way back then, I didn’t know what I know today, I did realize that I was ill-equipped, and “far outside the weight class” for the fight I was looking at and the “hot mess” that was about to change my life forever.
I instinctively reached out to the therapist that I had, sporadically, been seeing on and off for years in California, and with whom I had established a trusted rapport. James was a lifesaver, and in addition to a weekly Tuesday morning telephone appointment we agreed to schedule moving forward, he suggested that I start a daily practice of journaling. That idea is what eventually led me to (13 years later) write this “blog” and begin to understand the therapy that both the writing and “DearEasyDiaries” has become.
As I thought about my childhood, and the years between then and now, my mind always took me back to the memories of the one person who held the power to calm, comfort and reassure me during, both, the worst of times and also some of the happiest memories from my past. Easy was that person. She represented safety and security. Easy worked for my family for a very long time, including the first thirteen years of my life. She helped care for me following my diagnosis of Tuberculosis and its treatment during infancy, and Easy was the one who raised and took care of me for every day that followed too! She was the one who bathed and cared for me during childhood, Easy was the one who picked me up from school, she was the one who stayed with, and brought me chicken noodle soup and saltines when I was home from school and feeling “puny,” or even on the occasion when I faked sick just to stay home and feel safe. Easy represented refuge, comforting arms and someone with whom I could share and work through the, oftentimes imperfect, but “picture-perfect” presentation of life my family of origin portrayed, and practiced exceptionally well!
I thought of a favorite book from my youth called “Daddy Long Legs;” it was a charming story with a fairytale ending, and was chronicled in the form of a diary. If Judy could write to a “fictional” Daddy Long Legs, then surely I could do the same by writing to Easy. Writing to Easy felt like an obvious solution, and great direction for my new form of therapy to take. Starting a diary and pretending Easy was still alive for me to write to, felt good. Just the mere notion that she’d be in my life once again was automatically comforting. Truth be told, any opportunity to safely express the flood of emotions that were racing through my mind every moment of the day was a welcome relief. Many, many years earlier, before marriage, children and what had become our now, almost repugnant yet, opulent life, which was being currently dissected and ripped apart for anyone to see, I had started keeping methodical calendars with oodles of notes as an important resource for my real estate career. I never completely abandoned the habit and was still accustomed to keeping thorough and thoughtful datebooks; it was natural to pick right back up, but in a far more detailed manner. I’d need to elevate my focus, and take unfailingly careful effort, to note each and every trigger, transgression and the feelings of my kids and myself. James encouraged me to really purge… to express all my feelings, daily happenings, interactions etc, and put it onto paper. Real estate had taught me that careful attention to detail and documentation was essential; why should this be any different? And so, with that one call to James and the purchase of a large, fresh notebook, “DearEasyDiaries” was born.
The years between 2007 and 2016, filled many a “DearEasyDiary” notebook, and also necessitated the hiring and maintenance of a squad of legal counsel, which could neither be afforded…nor avoided. If I held any hope of protecting my children, myself, and our futures, I needed serious back-up and “fire power.” Not the type of same type of power as the “Glock,” which lives on my bedside table today. No, a very different kind of force was required. I paid hundreds of thousands of dollars by borrowing from any source that was willing, and by selling, piece by piece, the rather large collection of jewelry Al had gifted me over the past 21 years in order to fuel the multiple legal teams and firms of lawyers in two different states, which our case required. Between the simultaneous juggling of divorce/jurisdictional, family court actions in both California and Georgia, as well as the subsequent and resulting cases that followed, after Al’s willful refusal to comply with our Settlement Agreement, I had a contact list of lawyer’s on my cell that reached high into the double-digit range. My life had become a revolving door of lawsuits, lawyers and legal fees. There were always more motions, more attorneys, more emails filled with both minutiae and pertinent details, all generating billable hours. Great attention was needed, and paid, to oversee and enforce adherence to the endless list of decisions that resulted from the divorce, and the subsequent “domino effect” it created! The deranged circus and expenditure of millions that Al created and continued for over 7 years, was only just recently concluded. Five months ago to be exact, on December 14, 2019, I was finally free from the king of crazy-making! That date will probably be etched into my brain and memory forever? Thank heavens I had the steady comfort of writing to Easy to help distract from and de-escalate the bombardment of attacks from Al and his merry squad of henchmen. The calmness her spirit inspired together with the page upon page of writing helped to release unfathomable amounts of stress and was truly a God-send.
“DearEasyDiaries“ (which by now, fills boxes upon boxes of journals and files on my laptop all titled DearEasy) is replete with pages of life recorded, chronicled and recalling the entire divorce. “She” tells it all, in excruciating detail....the bad, the worse, as well as every positive event that occurred too. Most any of the good legal inspiration, was attributable to the orchestration of one of the most elegant, sharp, kind men I’d ever known. At 81 years “young,” he was determined, skilled and an absolute legal warrior. His allegiance, guidance and support were some of the greatest gifts that I could have imagine receiving? His insight and encouragement were matched only by his keen mind, depth of experience, vault of factual knowledge, combined with a rare and genuine caring, all combined with the legal prowess he embodied. It was mid November, 2007, and I had just answered my cell phone while taking my routine, morning, Georgia beach walk, knowing that Mondays usually meant a flood of calls, voicemails and emails all potentially signaling dreaded, new legal, maneuvering! Having left a message on this particular Los Angeles law firm’s voicemail over the weekend, I answered the call, with the recognizable zip code, only to hear a very formal, well-spoken, voice introducing himself to me, at around 8:30 am, pacific time. The voice was not that of a staffer, no secretary, no paralegal....but himself, a very high-profile attorney, personally calling a stranger who wasn’t even a client…yet. Later on, I can recall easily the day (a month or two into our alliance) when the same lawyer insisted on sharing his cell and home phone number with me. As he recited the number, he followed by stating that both his wife, and his assistant, Ainsley, were aware that should I call, it was important, and I was to be put directly through to him. It was one of those rare moments when you’re immediately reminded that good people do still exist. Some of the weight of my current reality was lifted, and I instantly felt like a million bucks. There was another occasion when this same man was again, insistent about something, but this instance marked and was to celebrate my first legal victory in the California courts, which had occurred due to his efforts and under his watch. He proceeded to drive me, in his Bentley, to the very private and exclusive Bel Air club, where we were immediately seated at his own personal table. There wasn’t one person, from the car valet, to the myriad of wait staff, or the elegant couple seated in the booth next to Sorrell Trope, whose name he didn’t know and whom he addressed kindly, extending the same respect that he had shown me on the very first day we spoke. They just don’t make many, if any, Gentlemen like that anymore; he was and will always remain my favorite, Legal Eagle.
Clearly, I’ve been scarred from the pain of my past, (Al used to refer to people like me as “damaged goods”) but after years of experience on the receiving end of some deeply unscrupulous, even insidious, but certainly duplicitous and incredibly self-serving people, (some from my own family) I’ve become accustomed to being ULTRA cautious. Recently and painfully, I was again reminded to be overly careful of where, and in whom, I place my trust. Several years after the divorce and all the resulting pain, I realized that my daughter had joined the very short list of people I could place in the “trust column of my life.” I didn’t recognize exactly when the transition began, but somehow, she was no longer just my daughter, but a loyal confidant, as well as a steadfast, fierce and dearest friend! That was long after the beginning of “DearEasyDiaries” took on an irreplaceable, therapeutic value back in September of 2007. But Emily remains today, the same best friend she became long after she was born to me.
Who knew all those years ago, that I’d be made to learn, and understand, all about concepts like “conflicting out,” Abstracts of Judgement, Jurisdictional Issues, Interrogatories and Depositions…or that the Judicial System holds precedent far ahead of truth and justice? Thank heavens I didn’t know that then. My legal ignorance at the time was a mixed blessing; otherwise, who knows if I’d have had the tenacity to see it all through! I had no idea of the living hell that my children, “DearEasyDiaries” and I would see, experience and survive! Now, however, it feels like both “DearEasyDiaries” and I have several lifetimes of legal knowledge to share, and even though we’re limited by the absence of legal degrees, PhD’s or other elevated levels of academic titles, the real-life education that “DearEasyDiaries” and I have acquired, is beyond imaginable. Today we both are still charging forward, and remain ready, willing and able to offer all the “Outspouses” out there, our shoulders, our attention, our experience, and our encouragement! I have James, Sorrell, Emily.....and Easy to thank for that! I beg you, (whomever you may be) please never, ever underestimate the power of a trusted, kick-ass network of support!
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