I think the thought of ICE agents just making people ‘disappear’ is something of novels, but for us, it was something of our worst nightmares.
On 9/12/18, My oldest, Cilla had her Junior homecoming Powderpuff game. She BEGGED her Dappy (Grandpa, Henry) to go to the game. For those of you who don’t know our story, her grandpa is the only father she’s ever known. He has been there since day one, helping to raise her.
Of course, as Dappy does, he had rearranged his schedule to make sure he could be there, but he never made it.
My Mom had called me at 1pm that Wednesday, she never calls me in the middle of the day. My stomach sank when I saw her picture come up on my phone. I answered the phone, her voice was oddly low with a monotone shake in it “they got Henry.”
Me: No. NO. Oh my god. Mama. No.
Her: *voice cracking* I know, Farah I don’t know if I can do this. He was trying to call me from a weird number, then left a message very calmly with a number and said “I love you mimol (Mi Amor) be strong. You have to be strong,”
Me: Where Mama? Where’d they get him? Where’s his van? Where are the dogs?
I’d seen ICE pick someone up a few months earlier, it wasn’t a pretty sight. I had even got out of my car screaming at some big ass ICE agents (kids don’t do that at home).
I kept picturing them handling my stepdad like that. I had anxiety, crying, trying to race to my parents.
When I pulled up to the house his work van was in the driveway & the dogs were in the house. ICE had waited until my mom left, Henry was at his van, cornered, not offered a warrant for his arrest or Miranda Rights-all, a blatant disregard of his rights.
As the afternoon went on I knew we were going to have to tell my kids.
Henry was supposed to go to Cilla’s homecoming powderpuff game. When I got to the school I was relieved to see that there were so many people that she may not have noticed that he wasn’t there during the game. Juniors won the game!
My mom called me from work, “you need to let me be there when you tell the girls.”
I said “I can’t with Cilla. She thought he was going to be here. She will be trying to call him.”
Cilla saw me and looked at me weird, then excited, “MOM!! You saw the game?! You got off work?”
“Yeah babes, you guys were amazing.” I let her take some pictures with her friends, her eyes kept meeting mine with a worried look.
We walked to the car, I was going to take her for Ice Cream. She said “how come Dappy couldn’t come. You’ve been crying, your eyes are red. Mom what?”
“Babe, ICE got Dappy at the house.”
She let out a blood curdling scream and put her face in her hands and leaned over into her lap and cried a soul breaking cry.
“No. No. NO. They can’t. He didn’t do anything to anyone. They can’t just do that!”
I tried to touch her and she pushed me away.
“No stop. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I fucking hate racists mom. My Dappy is a better person than everyone. That’s why they don’t want him here. They can all go to hell. I hate them.” (My Tumblr blog has audio -farahindenver)
Have you ever had anyone that you love more than anything in the world, with mental health concerns of suicidality? At this very moment she closed herself off to everyone but Henry. She only cries when the numb hurts too much and she is desperate to talk to Her Dappy. His voice brings a calm to the storm in her.
She wrote a paper for her English class, prompted, “something that brings strong feelings.” She wrote about a heart that Dappy had made my mom while in detention. The sentence that grabbed me was: I’ve never known the feeling of wanting to touch something because someone else had touched it also, not until the guard came around the corner with the heart and said “family of Cruz-Moreno?”
That evening, we all agreed to wait to tell Becca, my youngest, together. My mom came over that night. Becca knew something was wrong, Dappy wasn’t with her. Dappy is ALWAYS with Nana. We all sat on my sectional, Becca on my lap, we just stared at each other, not sure how to say it. Becca is 9. She loves everyone, she doesn’t understand why people would take her grandpa away because he is from Honduras and to her *people* are not “illegal,” *evil acts* are “illegal,” being a person in a family just loving and taking care of each other is not *illegal.* (Maybe we should all think more like my 9 year old...)
Me: Becca, so you know how Dappy is from Honduras?
Her: yea?
Me: well there are people who think people like Dappy don’t belong here.
Her: like Donald Trump?
Me: yeah. Like Donald Trump. Well, baby, some guys, like police called ICE took Dappy away, today.
Her: *tears filling her eyes* like those guys you were screaming at when they were arresting that Mexican man and being so mean to him?
Me: yes.
Her: those kind of mean men took my Dappy? *tears streaming down her cheeks*
I held her while she cried. I cried too. I’ve never heard my baby cry like that, she couldn’t get words out. My mom and Cilla both staring at her, tearing up, but almost as though they were staring through her, in their own worlds.
Becca: Mama? How can they take my Dappy? He is so wonderful. And so kind to everyone, he takes me horseback riding and helps Mrs. Curry. My eyes won’t stop crying mama. My heart and stomach hurt.
I looked over at my mom, Becca had moved over to her sisters lap crying on her chest. I held her hand. “Mama? You okay?”
She looked at me in my eyes for a good 20 seconds in silence with this blank stare, then let out this piercing wail of a cry as her head fell back on my couch. The cry from my mother broke my soul that night. It was like nothing I’ve ever known. I put her head on my chest as she cried inconsolably.
Her: “I can’t do it, Farah. I can’t live without him. He is my Best Friend, my everything. He takes care of me, I take care of him.”
Me: “Mama, you won’t do this alone. I am here. The girls. I will sell my house, you will not go thru this alone.”
She was so inconsolable I don’t know if she heard a word I said.
As my Mom left my house that night she was a zombie walking to her car.
Before Henry was stolen from us, I always went to sleep with my phone on silent at night, because Henry was next to her to take care of her, but now I keep it next to my head, with the volume on in a light sleep, afraid the hospital will call me saying my mom has had a heart attack.
My oldest went to sleep in complete silence on September 12, 2018, and I held my 9 year old as she cried herself to sleep, repeatedly saying that she doesn’t understand how they could take away her Dappy for not doing anything but being born in another country. The answer to that question could end so many questions, my love, but there isn’t one. Hate destroys us. Hate destroys countries and they’re trying to destroy my family, and while they may have us separated, they will never take away the unbounding love.