The hearing moved toward its next stage.
My attorney gathered some of the papers.
He checked the documents and placed them back in order.
I watched him.
He seemed calmer than I felt.
I wondered whether attorneys ever became accustomed to seeing families sit on opposite sides of a courtroom.
I hoped they didn't.
There was something deeply uncomfortable about watching people who once shared holidays and family photographs become opponents.
Michael would have hated it.
I knew that much.
My son had wanted his family together.
He had wanted Liam to grow up surrounded by people who cared about him.
Instead, his death had left us arguing over where his boy would live.
I looked toward Sarah.
She was speaking quietly with her attorney.
Her expression was serious.
I didn't know whether she was angry with me.
I didn't know whether she regretted the way things had reached this point.
I had no answers.
Then I looked at Liam.
He was sitting quietly.
His blazer had begun to wrinkle around the elbows.
He had been wearing it for hours.
I noticed that one of his hands was resting on the phone.
I wondered whether he wanted to put it away.
Perhaps he didn't know what to do with it now.
I wanted to tell him he could relax.
But I waited.
Judge Harrison asked whether the attorneys had anything further to present.
My attorney answered.
Sarah's attorney responded.
The judge listened to both.
Then he looked toward Liam.
I felt my heart begin beating faster again.
He asked whether Liam wanted to add anything else.
My grandson shook his head.
"I think I've said what I needed to say."
I nearly cried.
He had.
He had said what he wanted.
He had explained his feelings.
He had allowed the court to hear the recording.
And he had answered the questions.
There was nothing more I wanted him to prove.
Judge Harrison acknowledged his answer.
Then he addressed the attorneys.
He explained that the child's wishes were important and that the information presented needed to be considered carefully.
I listened.
I didn't want to misunderstand anything.
I knew this wasn't a simple decision.
There were legal responsibilities involved.
There were family relationships.
There was the question of what arrangement would best serve Liam's needs.
My attorney leaned toward me.
He quietly told me to remain patient.
I nodded.
I had become very familiar with those words.
Patience.
I had needed it after Michael died.
I had needed it while waiting for the school records.
I had needed it while preparing the documents.
And now I needed it again.
The judge looked through the papers.
I glanced at the photographs on Sarah's table.
Then at the folder beside my attorney.
Then at Liam.
He was the only person in the room who hadn't chosen to be part of this conflict.
Yet he was the person who had to live with whatever decision came.
That thought stayed with me.
I had been so focused on getting him into my home that I hadn't spent enough time thinking about how difficult the transition might feel.
He would still miss his father.
He would still have memories of his old home.
He would still have a mother he loved.
A change in where he lived wouldn't erase any of that.
I needed to remember it.
I needed to make room for all of it.
The judge continued reading.
Nobody spoke.
And I found myself hoping that whatever decision came, Liam would never feel that he had to apologize for wanting to be safe and comfortable.
Click here to continue reading: PART 16: As the Hearing Continued, I Stopped Asking Whether the Judge Believed Me and Started Thinking About What Liam Would Need Tomorrow Morning
The Question Nobody Wanted My Grandson to Answer, and the Silence That Followed Us Into the Courtroom
Part 15 of 24
