Was it me?
Am I guilty?
Did I fail somehow?
The door slammed
And you staggered off
Leaving me to wonder
What did I do wrong?
But all I did
Was love you,
Sadly that wasn’t enough.
I have made up my mind
And you are set in yours
You see nothing wrong
I see disaster on the horizon
I tried to compromise again and again
But you never kept your word
If I had known then
What I know now
How tragedy would strike
Would I have been able to stay?
Or would your lies still
have driven me away
All I know now
Is you didn’t see the truth
And it ended with our daughter devastated
And me forever missing
The man I once loved
the scene was elegant
delicate flowers decorate
leaving a luxurious scent in the air
everything nearly perfect
the bride in an ornate white gown
the groom in a pure white tuxedo
a refined future seemed possible
if only they had known
the silver would tarnish
the diamonds turned dull
and life would turn fragile
and splinter in two
leaving this regal event
as nothing more than
a graceful illusion
He actually accused me of cheating. We sat in the car battling tears over a separation I had to have to save my sanity and he said I was having an affair. I did not cheat. I still to this day think he did though.
We were married for twenty years and over half of that time was a struggle with his alcoholism. I worked so hard to keep the image of the happy family in everyone’s eyes. But there were two people I always wondered if he was untrue with. Both he worked with at one time and he just talked about them too much. The stories about work seemed to revolve around them. Even one of them well after she stopped working there.
I know the one woman tried to be friends with me but seemed so fake, like she was trying to cover something up. She always laughed far too much at his stories when we would meet in public. I know she was involved with a married man at one time so it was not out of the ordinary to think she would have been with my then husband.
The second woman I could never really come up with anything other than a feeling, but I know she was the center of his conversations for a long time. He even talked once of letting her stay with us on a night of a snow storm, but said she declined. I was horrified at the thought and glad I did not have to face the possible reality.
I will never know the truth. My ex-husband died far too young from the abuse the alcohol caused his body. Does it really matter? It would not have changed things any. His drinking was the heart of our problems and he seemed unsure that he needed to stop, even after our divorce. So in a way he cheated on me for many years with his mistress alcohol.
Often I ask myself about some of the things in my past and wonder if I could change things would I? Was it a mistake to date someone who ultimately was not Mr Right? Was it a mistake to get married since it ended in divorce? Was it a mistake I only had one child? Was it a mistake in how I lived so that I had breast cancer? … all of the questions are valid, but most often I find the answers surprisingly to be no.
All those experiences led me to where I am and who I am now. The wrong men led me to the right one. The marriage was wonderful until the alcohol took over…and even though we divorced a part of me loved him to his dying day. And as wonderful as my daughter is, I can’t imagine not having that special bond with only her if I would have had more than one child.
Now the cancer has its own set of circumstances. There are no clear ideas on why or who gets it, so maybe it was my lifestyle that did it, but in some ways it made me much stronger. I had a bunch of choices through my treatments too, but if I had gone a different route I may not have been so lucky to have made it past year 13 of survival.
I guess what I am trying to say is that not all “bad” things in your life are mistakes. Each obstacle makes you stronger and wiser. That doesn’t mean there are not regrets from time to time, but at least the way I see it there are no true mistakes.
The door slammed shut and I was alone.
What was supposed to last fifty years
ended in less than twenty –
with broken hearts,
lots of tears
and empty bottles everywhere.
The vodka won in the end,
tearing our family apart
and taking him away
from this world far too soon.
…I want to write. I want to escape the pain. I want to take today put it on paper and then crumple it up into the trash. But that will not happen. What’s done is done. Death cannot be reversed. What my daughter saw when she went to her Dad’s will be forever in her mind. He laid in bed cold and lifeless. I wish I had been there. I wish I had been there. I wish I had been there. I could have shielded her from that vision that will haunt her forever. I know I still see the image of the funeral home people moving my Mom into the body bag. I wanted to scream. “Watch out for her head. Don’t hurt her.” What would the point be… she was dead. That feeling will always be in the pit of my stomach. And now my daughter too has a vision of death seared behind her eyes.
…I want to write out all the emotions. The pain and sorrow. The confusion and doubt. The anger and frustration. He was only 52. He has a daughter he will never walk down the aisle. Why now? Why did he not seek out help? Why did he live behind closed doors in isolation so no one was left to help him?
…I want to blame myself even though I know it is not my fault. If we were still married would today have been different? If we had separated earlier would it have changed things? If I had been stronger would he have gotten help sooner? Was it my fault that he was all alone and felt so isolated he stopped eating and caring about nothing but another mind numbing drink?
… I loved him… I do love him. We could not make the marriage work. I could not make it work. I could not watch his slow descent into hell drink by drink. I always wanted him to be happy. I always wished the best for him, for many years at my own expense. I still hope he made peace with God or whoever he believed in these days and is in a better place. I hope he found his Dad and Mom, both of whom he missed terribly. I hope he found peace.
… I want to write. I really don’t know what to say. I hurt and am numb all at the same time. I love you Jeb… rest in peace. I will never forget you. I will always treasure the greatest gift you ever gave me – our daughter. I will miss you. I did not hate you. I just had to protect my heart from more pain. Sleep in sweet happiness now. Good night.