Tears in a Jar
By R.A. Fein
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About this ebook
This is a story about loss and restoration. Instead of a tale of woe and loneliness, it is a tale of freedom, redemption, and rebuilding. During a very painful divorce, I lost everything and everyone I knew. My ex-husband aided by our church, my family of origin, and many of our friends, built a wall around my children and refused to give me meaningful access to them.
Throughout these challenging and painful events, I continued to keep the faith that eventually my children would be a part of my life again.
If you are struggling with a high-conflict divorce that involves domestic violence and legal abuse, or you are a legal professional (judges and custody evaluation workers included) this book is for you. The purpose of this book is to bring change to family court, by telling this story and to bring comfort to women and children currently experiencing these traumatic events.
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Tears in a Jar - R.A. Fein
Dedication
To my children, may this book give insight into your mother, without diminishing the memory of your father. May you somehow feel the love I have for you through the words of my book, and may we enter a new chapter of our family life together. The past cannot be undone, but the future can be entirely different, if we choose to make it so. May you understand why this story needed to be told.
For Aria Grace, may you grow up in a world free of the prejudices that I have had to face.
For all the women that have their motherhood stolen and their children: May the words of my story bring you comfort, validation, healing, and understanding. May you use this book to bring sanity and wisdom to your particular set of circumstances.
Acknowledgments
God, for surrounding me with angels during this time, and always. For offering me protection that only you can give me, and for providing me the words on these pages, the strength to survive, and ultimately the path to publication. Without you, I would not have gotten through this, thank you for always being there and for surrounding me with nurturing people. There are really too many acknowledgements to list related to this book, so I’ve chosen the few that I feel should best be addressed. Judith Hearn for her willingness to stick by my side even against impossible odds and without whom this story would have a different ending. She is an amazing attorney who not only understands the law and how to apply it, but cared enough to fight for my children as if they were her own. I can never repay the kindness she has shown me and my family, nor will I ever be able to express my gratitude for her continued efforts.
Emily Hearn who sat with me in court, guarded my side while the church people tried yet again to burn me at the stake, offered to read my court testimony when I was getting too emotional, and made me a verb! Thank you!
Judge Feyen, for being the first person outside of Judith Hearn to realize something was wrong with what was being done to me. Ben Burgess, who not only endured having to listen to my tale of darkness, but his own episode of being spat on by my father and accosted by the church people. Thank you Ben, I know it was worth it for you and I am grateful to you, but that was really going above and beyond the call of duty. Judge Engle, for ultimately doing the right thing, and acknowledging that. Thank you for following Ben Burgess and Judge Feyen in vindicating me and believing this tale, it is much easier to sleep at night having that knowledge.
Sylvia Mordan, without whom I would have lost my mind trying to pick up the shattered pieces of my soul from the floor.
Kathy, who has always rejoiced in my success and without whom I would never have written this book. Kathy inspired me to write this book and I am grateful to her for having planted that seed as I believe it is an important story to share.
Barry Goldstein and Lundy Bancroft, who took time out of their tireless efforts to help me prepare my court testimony and without whom I am not sure I would have had the courage to tell the tale in court. To
Amanda Black, who always laughs with me about the scene of horrors, and who asks the same questions I do about if these people ever knew me at all. It’s great to have a friend like you!
To my enemies, thanks for an interesting story. Every word of it is true and it would not have been possible without your unwarranted attacks.
To Bruce for putting up with me all these years, for loving my story and wanting to tell it. Last but not least to my husband, who has always believed me, and always chosen me. I am truly blessed with a wonderful family of choice that always chooses me. My husband is at the center of that, the other members know who they are.
Character Chart
This memoir is a fictional account inspired by actual events.
Rebecca, the main character that the author has chosen to represent herself
Judy, the attorney who is a central figure due to the complicated nature of this case
Absalom, a friend of Rebecca that takes on the biblical Absalom role of protector to Rebecca, and in whose house Rebecca dwells as a desolate woman, by taking his name in the divorce.
God, has always been central to Rebecca’s life, no more so than in this story.
Kate, a kind hearted woman who took Rebecca in when all was lost.
Gary, Rebecca’s former pastor who claims to be an expert on her, but never knew her at all.
Mary, Rebecca’s friend and confidant, the church nurse who wishes she had done more to help Rebecca, but ended up causing much of the pain.
Jack, Rebecca’s first husband
Andrew, a College Classmate of Rebecca and Jack
Ellen, Jack’s mother
Rebecca’s parents, a therapist and a pastor; they are unnamed in the book.
Rahab, Rebecca’s father’s significant other
Timeline of important events
May 2015, Mountain of Lies
October 2014-December 2014, court proceedings are ongoing for custody of the children.
September 21, 2014, Jack dies with a funeral on the 27th of September
July 2010, Child Protective Services Calls
May 2010, Birth of Angelina
March 20, 2007-August 8, 2008, Rebecca’s divorce process
February 23, 2007-March 1, 2007, Hospitalization, this was a 72 hour hold not an involuntary commitment.
2004-2005, 4 deaths, beginning in September 2004 and ending in January 2005
July 2002-August 2005, my parents are getting divorced, with dad remarrying in May 2006
Who am I?
This is really an odd question to think about. Have you ever asked yourself who are you? I’ve been outlining these painful parts of myself, essentially leaving my now murdered soul, and my wounds bare for the world to see. In many regards writing this book is like dancing on the table naked. My choice to not dance on the table naked was taken from me however, when my soul was murdered and people showed up to court hoping to burn me at the stake. In that moment I had to tell the world my story and I knew it. So, welcome to the party I hope you enjoy the dance of my soul, what’s left of it anyway.
I’ve been struggling with how to answer this question for quite some time, I know who I was before the murdering of my soul, or at least I thought I did. I am pretty sure I know who I am now, but how does anyone really know? I was a kind and loving child who was bullied at school, at home, nearly all my life, even into adulthood I was bullied, until as I said the bullies finally killed me. Then I looked at the murdered parts of my soul and became someone else.
Before my soul was murdered, I was the heiress to a great legacy. I was a child born into the world. The family I was born into didn’t fit me and vice versa, but my presence in that family was no less prestigious. I was the daughter of parents who were prominent members of their professions, and in many respects given the prominence of my father’s family in the Reformed Church in America, I felt much the same way I imagine the Kennedy children felt. I was in a fishbowl, made even worse by the prominence of my grandparents, whom I deeply loved and I know deeply loved me.
When I was a little girl my father tried to downplay these issues of prestige. He had pictures of Queen Elizabeth I over my bed, and he gave me a copy of her biography. My grandparents were the one who explained to me what the family story was on that side, much the same way my mother’s parents were the ones to explain that family history to me. I was more than the names of my ancestors and I knew that, even as a child. I was more than the deeds they had done, though people often expect descendants to be like those that they knew before them. I had my friends, my community. But, I had a hard time trusting people and I had learned very young that being myself was bad, but I wasn’t stunted socially for my feelings about this. Being a pastor’s child I learned how to be on display, which is an interesting skill later in life.
After my soul was murdered, I became a desolate woman in many respects. To some extent this has healed itself, but in some ways it will never heal. This is where the kinship with Tamar came from, this sense of loss and desolation. The kinship that I never thought I had with Tamar also came from the post-soul murdered version of myself. I had been asked by a friend about myself and I had noted that I had felt completely shattered, and that is true. But I failed to realize at the time of the statement that the gift in the trauma, was that I was now in control.
Much the same way Tamar was in control, now I was able to take back my power and move forward. After my soul was murdered, I had become a desolate woman, but I was powerful queen in my own life. I stopped living as a refugee in it; I stopped living for other people. I realized that those who love me, love me, they will always love me, they will always value me and choose me, and some won’t. The pain came from realizing that my family of choice valued me more than my blood family. Interpersonal violence will show you who your friends are, but when your own community turns on you that’s when things get really bizarre.
Jack
Ifirst met Jack after I transferred to Tikvah University, a small Midwestern school. I did not live in his dorm until the following year, but first I met some of his dorm neighbors, and they invited me to eat at their table. Voorhees was the only dorm where students ate at one table together, and to my knowledge it is the only dorm to have Old Voorheesian or Voorheesian as a fond nickname. It was the dorm for nerds, freaks, other outcasts. They reveled in their non-conformity and they took pride in their uniqueness, at least at that time. I’ve often said I don’t remember much of the circumstances around meeting him, that’s because there wasn’t anything remarkable about the whole thing. We were all friends, I had been accepted into the nerd club, which is pretty funny because I’ve been an outcast nearly all my life and I somehow don’t see that changing.
Jack had very high cheek bones, almost looked Native American to people in his structure and complexion. He used to complain that his mother always made him get haircuts once a week so now that he was grown, he decided to grow his hair long. He usually wore it in a ponytail. When I first met him he was always clean shaven, but as time went forward, he decided to grow facial hair.
He wasn’t raised in the church, but I heard a story that his father was going to seminary, but then he decided that God was a force and went into physics instead. His grandparents were very active in the church, and apparently the people at the church his grandparents attended had higher expectations for his religious education and they humiliated Jack. Jack’s father believed that his children should have a choice of religion, and so he raised them in nothing. I never asked his mother about her religious beliefs. It was never something I felt compelled to make a big deal about.
In the summer of 1997, I was home with my parents and something happened to my mother’s computer. I can’t remember now what it was, only that she expected me to fix it, and I had no idea what to do. I called tech support and they confused me even more. I called one of my college friends who said to me, I have no idea what you are asking about, but I do know you need Jack.
In that moment, I realized that was true. Jack could work magic with computers. He used to complain because I’d walk into a computer lab and he would have to go to work. He worked for the computer center and I naturally crashed every computer in the lab with my presence.
And so it began.... I called Jack and asked for help. Not in the helpless way that a lot of women pull. I genuinely needed help. The funny thing