I have asked my daughter, Kirsty, for permission to write this blog, as it is about her plight recently. At two o’clock the other morning a drunken ex of Kirsty’s was trying to break in to my daughter’s flat to cause her harm, some 200 miles away, of course the police were called and he left the scene, since then my daughter, who is 26 and mother to my two granddaughters who are 7 & 1, has received threatening phone calls and Facebook messages. Kirsty had an appointment today, with the police, to discuss the situation as she is extremely frightened, only to be told that no one is available to speak with her and can she come back Thursday. If that is how domestic violence victims are treated is it any wonder deaths are not rare, even when the perpetrator is known to police. That may sound dramatic or it doesn’t seem much, however please withhold judgement until you have read this all. Then see what your views are.
As you are aware I went back to prison to sort my life out and one thing I was desperate to repair was the relationship with my children. The day I landed back in jail I instantly set about writing letters to them all, this was July 2015. In November of that year I received my first letter from one of my children, it was Kirsty, and as I have kept my letters I am able to quote verbatim, as I wish to share the story with you. This is the opening paragraph:
I know I’ve taken my time and I thought I wouldn’t be able to forgive or forget what either of us had said. Then something bad happened and I cried more for you than I did about the pain I was in. I just wanted you to save me dad and just hold me and tell me everything will be OK. So I should really tell you what’s happened but I don’t want you to get angry.
Kirsty then went on to tell me how she became involved with this guy called Michael since August, he had two kids and they were all getting on really well, things couldn’t have been better Kirsty wrote herself. Then for his birthday he had invited a few mates round for a drink which was a nice evening, Kirsty goes on to say:
Then bang!! out of nowhere Michael starts shouting……his mates leave, the kids are in bed…..he came in and just started slapping me both sides of my face…….then held my head and head butted me twice……..then fucking hell did he punch me, I dropped to the floor and he carried on hitting me.
Kirsty managed to get out and two friends were there that stopped it go any further, he was eventually arrested and charged with assault by beating, Kirsty, however, was left with a suspected broken cheek bone and had to go to hospital for x-rays as he had damaged one of her retinas which later had to be operated on. He received a fine and 150 hours community service. This wasn’t to be the last time either, he had barged his way into Kirsty’s flat after he had finished his sentence, smashed her phone and knocked her about, charge? once again assault by beating, sentence? yeah, fine and 150 hours community service again, oh! sorry and a restraining order this time. Three days after that finished the emotional abuse started again and continues to this day up to and including last weekend.
“No one available, come back Thursday”.
Let’s hope so!!!!!!!!!!!!
I would like to share some other quotes from Kirsty should any fathers be reading this unsure what path to take.
I miss you so much dad. You’re my best friend, my rock. Life is so hard without you here.
New Years Day 2016
Really need a cuddle dad, you always just fix everything for me. So true that girls always need their dads.
I love and miss you dad, you’re the only one that gets me. I wrote two poems for you:
No matter how old a girl is she will always need her dad,
In times of joy, laughter, pain and being sad.
He is her hero, best friend and her king,
Memories filled with laughter and joking.
Two peas in a pod, me and my dad,
Caring and welcoming but just a tad mad.
To have him here now, words cannot explain,
The feeling of happiness and the safety again.
Wrong place, wrong time always seems to be us,
People don’t like us because our bond they cannot suss.
My dad is my king, my first love, no one will come close to him,
He is my protector, I’m his blood, so it runs within.
Not long now, dad and me as one team,
Mother fuckers watch out we are titanium.
Expression through tears
Crying really is a gift of life I cannot live without.
It’s the most raw and real action that shows what you are about.
You can cry from happiness, such a lovely feeling.
You can also cry from sadness, now that’s just depressing.
Expression infinite, each individual tear.
Some of them I have even shed to express my fear.
Confusion is a strange one to that I must admit.
As for when I cry I panic, I don’t like that one bit.
But here is an open invitation to come cry with me.
As it truly is a beautiful way to let your emotions be free.
Tears of a child!!!!