Daniel told the court I sometimes wandered around confused and injured myself without remembering how it happened.
That was their story.
I remembered every injury.
The bruise on my wrist came from Vanessa grabbing me when I refused to sign papers giving Daniel access to my savings.
The mark near my shoulder came from Daniel shoving me against the hallway wall during an argument.
And the cut above my eyebrow?
I received that one when I tried to stop them from removing documents from Richard’s desk.
Each time, they told other people I had fallen.
“You really need help, Mom,” Daniel would say afterward.
Then Vanessa started documenting everything.
Photographs.
Dates.
Notes about my supposed confusion.
She even photographed a burned saucepan after I left tea on the stove too long while answering the telephone.
The caption beneath the photograph in their court filing said:
“Another dangerous episode showing inability to live independently.”
One burned saucepan.
Forty-six years of running a household apparently disappeared because of one cup of tea.
They weren’t caring for me.
They were building a case against me.
Once they believed they had enough, Daniel petitioned for emergency guardianship.
He wanted control of my bank accounts.
