Wednesday, June 12, 2013

My Beautiful Hungarian





This photo was a life changing event for India, Marion and myself.

I had just separated from my former wife. The impact of what had happened to India was becoming clear and India was failing at an alarming rate.

The recession, among other things, had wiped me out financially. Until the year of this photo, I had paid out of pocket up to $30,000.00 per month for India’s interventions; I have a high school education only. I was now cash poor, had no substantial training to help India. It was my former wife that was trained extensively and supposed to have been responsible for using the daily interventions with India in the event we faced financial hardship; this did not happen. It was my job to do all I could to come up with the money to cover the professionals in San Diego, San Francisco, Tucson, Albuquerque, El Paso, Pontiac Michigan, Ontario Canada, New Jersey, Boston and Hungary.

So after I left my former wife and leading up to this photo, I found myself in a position of having to protect my children and in particular India whose little body was deteriorating as a result of her mother’s brutal neglect. To say I was stunned and confused would be the understatement of my life.

My ex-wife and I had previously been hiring specialists out of Hungary who are trained in something called “Conductive Education”. Of the million dollars plus that was spent on India, nothing came close to the results of “Conductive Education” which cost a fraction of the other interventions that showed little to no results other than decimating our bank accounts. We hired and flew in at least a dozen of these amazing “Conductive Educators” from Eastern Europe to work with India and other children. But one stood out in ways I can’t articulate.

This person was Viktoria Szolnoki. She and India quickly became best friends. My former wife insisted on Vikki being the only "Conductive Educator" to work with India and we flew her from Europe many times to help our child. Vikki, until India’s mothers’ actions, inactions, blocking of interventions and change of philosophy, took my child to the point of standing, walking, feeding herself and doing things most professionals said were impossible. Vikki was amazing and in very high demand. We booked her as often as possible in-between her sessions in England, Canada, Ireland, Hungary and other U.S. States.

So not long before this photo, India was in a desperate state and her future looking very bad. I tracked Viktoria down in a town called Fareham, England, just outside Portsmouth and about 2 hours from London. I updated her on the situation and she agreed to try to train me via MSN video as best she could with the basics. But the damage to India was too much and the video sessions couldn't give my child what she needed to just relieve the pain.

I realized something drastic had t be done. I swallowed my pride, called Viktoria, told her I was broke, I couldn't afford to pay her, I could however arrange payments and would borrow the money to cover her air ticket. I apologized as I asked her if she would be willing to come for a short time during the Christmas holiday which was only weeks away and help India; we were desperate. Victoria’s response was nice as she said she'd call me back. I took this to mean “no” and as we hung up, found myself slumped on the floor sobbing uncontrollably at the realization of our situation.

I was awoken an hour later from the very same spot I'd called Viktoria. I'd fallen asleep on the floor from exhaustion, the phone still in my hand. Viktoria called me back from England and her response brings tears to my eyes to this day.

As Viktoria told me that she’d be arriving several days later, I found myself doing all I could to not break down again while I was on the phone with her; this time with pure and profoundly deep relief. Viktoria had purchased a ticket from her own funds. I didn’t know until later that it cost her $5,000.00 US Dollars coach because of last minute holiday booking. Viktoria told me not to worry about paying her and that she’d stay for a month.

This is the photo of literally the minute my children came into the house and realized Vikki had arrived. This “love” session went on for over 30 minutes. The relief and excitement was like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life. India, with her one good arm, held onto Vikki so tight, that she left dark bruising on Vikki’s skin. India’s exact words when she saw Vikki, after doing a double take, looking at me for confirmation that what she was seeing was in fact real, was “Dikki – oooohhhhhh Dikki” (Verbal - Vikki oh Vikki", with the most amazing sigh of relief as she began to sob, tears flowing down India’s cheeks as she giggled with excitement.

Vikki has been put through absolute hell from every direction and in ways that I can’t bring myself to write about. This includes horrific actions from my own family, ex-wife and friends that have left us in a constant state of fear and disbelief; all from the moment Vikki arrived to help my child.

Vikki is still here and still enduring the unimaginable from those very same people and more. Yet every single day, she puts her wings over all the children, myself included, to protect us from the incomprehensible that we have yet to understand. She does this for no other reason than she loves us.

Vikki doesn’t have to be here yet here she remains. And the beauty of this incredible woman isn't limited to her. Vikki’s family makes regular trips across the world to help, at their expense while my own family doesn't so much as call after a single and horrifying seizure where India is rushed to the hospital in an ambulance while her lips turn blue from lack of oxygen. Not to mention a “how is India doing” email or call after one of India’s many surgeries.

So I knew the minute India said “Dikki – oooohhhhhh Dikki” that I’d been blessed with something some call an Angel, or Miracle but I now prefer to call my wife and mother of all my children.

In closing, if you’re wondering why Marion is left out of this story, it’s intentional. Marion’s story of this same timeframe deserves equal attention and will take several chapters if not a book. I put ink to paper as often as I can but these are very hard events to write about.



This is my beautiful wife Viktoria


This is our beautiful son Nikki

This is our beautiful daughter Abbie

This is our beautiful daughter India

This is our beautiful daughter Marion

This is a very upset Vikki when her new husband farts in the car as he is driving and locks the windows shut.