A Wife’s Cry for Justice: Bringing My Husband Back Home

My name is Mrs. Puskas Favour, and I am speaking from the depths of a mother and wife’s broken heart.

I am watching my family fall apart before my eyes. My children are devastated. I am emotionally drained. And my husband, the love of my life for over 16 years—a man who once held me and our children so dearly—is now isolated in a place he hates. He is battling dementia, and instead of being surrounded by the love of his family in the comfort of the home he built for us, he has been taken from us, held captive, and used as a tool in a web of manipulation and deceit.

Curt Walter Puskas and his wife Vanessa Susanna Puskas kidnapped and isolated my husband in 2023. They took advantage of his illness, forging documents, fabricating stories, and stealing everything he owned. They used their access to strip away everything we built together—his company, his properties, his finances—and yet they face no consequences. Why is that? Because the legal system that is supposed to protect the vulnerable is failing us. It is protecting the wrong people. It is ignoring the cries of a wife and her children.

My husband never gave Curt Puskas anything. He did not will him his property, nor did he sign over any business rights. These were forged. My husband made me the beneficiary of his assets, and he made sure our children would be protected. He told me himself—never let anyone take away what rightfully belongs to us.

Now, the same legal system that should be protecting a man suffering from dementia is instead enabling his exploitation. I appointed Ms. Brinkman to be my husband’s conservator to protect him—not to help a criminal take everything he owns and turn a blind eye to the family he loves.

Yet Ms. Brinkman has done nothing to bring my husband back home. Nothing to ensure he is living with dignity and surrounded by the people he loves. Nothing to stop a man on probation with a history of crime and addiction from destroying the life of an innocent elderly man and his family.

Every day, my husband cries to come back to his Shannon home. That is the home we built together—the same home he gave to me and our children. That is where he belongs, not in a place that feels like a prison.

And now, even my attorney—someone I trusted—is advising me to consider moving, to walk away from the home that rightfully belongs to my husband, to me, and to our children. How could you? You saw the forged divorce documents. You told me yourself they didn’t make sense. You said you were shocked. And now you are asking me to accept this injustice?

We are suffering. My children are living in poverty. I cannot access the finances my husband left for us. I cannot even take care of our children properly. And all of this is because I once forgave Curt Puskas. I believed in family. I welcomed him into our lives despite his past, believing people change. I was wrong.

He used our kindness as a weapon, and now he is using a forged stamp and fake paperwork to try to erase everything we are. But truth cannot be erased. Truth has a voice, and I will never stop using mine to fight for my husband, our children, and our home.

There must be honest attorneys. There must be honorable judges. There must be decent human beings in the legal system who will stand up against this injustice. Where are the laws that protect dementia patients? Where are the laws that protect innocent families from being torn apart by criminals hiding behind false documents?

This is not just my fight—it’s a reflection of how easily families can be broken by greed and manipulation when the legal system looks away.

I ask I plead, I cry out to those who still have a conscience, to those who still believe in justice—help me bring my husband back home. Help protect his legacy, his voice, his wishes, and his dignity. Help ensure that our children grow up knowing that their father was not betrayed by the system, but protected by it.

Curt Puskas may think he has won for now, but the truth always arises. The home that my husband built for our family will be where he lives until the day he joins his ancestors. It will pass on to our children, and no one—no one—will take it from us.

Every day may belong to the thief, but one day belongs to the owner. And that day is coming.

Mrs. Puskas