I really outgrew this stuff a long time ago. It's not that I consider it to be childish or anything, some of the artists on here are really incredible at what they do.
So, anyway, yeah, I hear my sister's DevArt account was hacked... and this wasn't long after she posted some very controversial things on this site. Well, that's really too bad. I offered to try and help but she didn't respond to my text messages and wouldn't call me back. Maybe she is just crying out for attention that doesn't come from myself.

For what it's worth, I figure I'll summarize a few things in my own words about the whole mess and maybe respond to a few things she's said. Her own version of the story has been up and around for everyone to read for a long time. I don't guess she's updating it anymore, but it's at [link]

I can only assume that in Lori's ("erika"'s) many references to "he", she is referring to myself or our Dad. Or maybe I should just say "my Dad", because she really doesn't treat him like one. I'm not much for hiding names and using pronouns; let's be frank and have an adult discussion.

First of all, divorce is a very, very serious thing. It takes a family unit, however broken or damaged, and separates them completely, putting them at odds with each other.
As can be seen from public records, Deborah (our mother), filed for divorce sometime in 2007. About the same time, she also filed an ex parte (restraining order) against my Dad, so that he was no longer able to see his two daughters, Lori and Hannah.
Unfortunately, Hannah is too young to fully grasp what has happened to our family and Lori has little to no interest in communicating with her father.

Most of the underlying problems in our parents' marriage were really coming out of the woodwork during their ultimate test; the purchase of the Pizza Restaurant sometime in 2005.
My Dad did a very, very brave thing. He tried to start his own, self-sustaining business so that we, his children, would have a legacy.

Even during this very difficult period, all "us kids" got along very well. David went off to Bible College and Lori stayed home. She would visit me or I would visit her. When Deborah was not there, she was left to take care of the animals, Hannah and complete her homeschooling. I would say that an unreasonable burden had been placed on Lori, but she and Deborah would vehemently argue that this was never the case.
Even so, many times I would come home, or after I moved out I would visit the house, to find Lori in tears and Hannah having acted out from want of attention from both of her parents.

Deborah was taking adderall at the time and would stay up for unusually long periods or disappear for as long as 36 hours. My father was absent due to working two jobs.

Deborah's opinion of my father was made very clear to me in one night. She told me that he beat her, sent her to the hospital a number of times, and other very horrible things. Naturally, I was enraged, and without thinking first, I confronted my father.

I remember countless times when my mother would say things that were grossly exaggerated or completely untrue when we would argue and Dad would come home, so it wasn't difficult for me to assume that there was another side to the story.
As a matter of fact, while I can certainly agree that my father has made some very regrettable mistakes, I can also remember times when she physically hurt him very seriously.
Again, she would certainly argue this.
I don't remember, however, any of the things that Deborah told me that night.

During the long periods between court proceedings, my Dad lost his job and had to move to Minnesota, far from Aurora, MO where the divorce was filed and Deborah still lived, as his work is very specialized. It was difficult for him to find a lasting job. He did drive countless hours numerous times in an effort to see his two daughters still at home, despite snow, ice and exhaustion, but was refused nearly every time. It didn't matter that the visitation was court ordered. It didn't matter that the cost of gasoline was ridiculously high or that he'd purchased a hotel room nearby. My ex-wife accompanied both of us, and we watched in awe as Deborah argued with a deputy demanding that we leave her alone. I actually got that part on video camera, but Dad is really not much of a fighter, as was evidenced by his relatively poor preparation in court. It wasn't that he didn't want to "win". Deborah also had an excellent lawyer, who tried very hard to convince even me that fighting anything in this divorce would be completely futile.

Both of my sisters have suffered from different health problems due to their unfortunate environment. It seems that despite the fact that my Dad was sending Deborah over $2000 a month in child support and she received government aid during that time, they were unable to provide certain basic needs. I'm sure that they fault him for this somehow, but I saw how my father lived. He lived in a small, very modest apartment most of the time, with bur bur carpet and a window A/C unit with which in his simple needs he was able to remain very comfortable.
I did raise a complaint with social services and had a long, lengthy discussion with the Guardian ad litem (sp?) during this time, but I honestly do not think that either action accomplished anything.
Hannah, though almost 8, still wasn't in school even though Deborah claimed she was homeschooling her. Hannah told me so herself while outside the courtroom. Of course, the state of Missouri didn't require her to be schooled until 8 years of age, so Deborah had committed no real wrongdoing.

In front of the judge, Deborah testified that she had only ever denied my Dad visitation once.
We actually had the deputy come out several times and issue Deborah many citations with her refusal to allow visitation, but these, her lawyer claimed, were somehow filed incorrectly (as criminal) and dismissed by the court. Unfortunately, my Dad did not subpoena the deputy on "D-Day" (the day of "legal triumph" my sister undoubtedly refers to -- "crazy s***" indeed), and as it turns out he and I were the only witnesses to these occurrences that would speak.

Deborah would eventually move to Texas, further distancing them from both myself and my father. The aftermath of the house she left behind not long before had piles of laundry, two refrigerators full of toxic, suffocating mold and a smell that was barely tolerable if not harmful. Please don't misunderstand, there is absolutely no humor in any of this.
There were a few family pictures and some home videos - the only items of any worth that remained. Most of our family memorabilia was auctioned off after Deborah failed to pay for the storage and left it for my father, who didn't receive notice as it was sent to my house. I never received it, because Amanda (not part of this story) took it and threw it away.
All in all, aside from whatever Deborah may have, the majority of our family history is completely and wholly gone.

...and that's pretty much where we are now. My father, my brother and I speak on a weekly, if not daily basis. Unfortunately, I have no contact with my sisters. This was actually at Deborah's insistence and requested by her as part of the court order during the divorce. I allowed my Dad to use my house for visitation and I was required to leave to allow that to happen, since I lived closed to them at the time and he had far too long to drive. It was certainly preferable to a hotel room with no yard to play in and possibly no internet to update her Deviant Art page and rant about how awful her father treated her. (/sarcasm)

It's funny that Lori says "being in a car that long [11 hours] could kill you," when her Dad drove far longer and many more times just to see her.

Anyway, in all seriousness, my family is indeed irreparably broken.

I will say as I have said and continue to say: I am proud of my father. Despite all odds, he has continued to live, to exercise and to educate himself. I wouldn't want to have to "start over" at his age.
He often mourns the loss of the relationship he had with Lori and Hannah, but he's reunited with Julia and has a great relationship with myself, and David.

And I, too, have moved on. I just felt the need to pause for a bit and provide something that has been missing. My father certainly wouldn't take it upon himself to write a blog and whine about how life has been "so unfair".