Masterpiece in Progress

by Smith, TL

  So, for the next few days I'm going to try really hard to be happy and celebrate all that our lives were when he was here.

  Not always perfect, but what is?

  Let's laugh.

  Jerry was notorious for talking and walking in his sleep. It used to really scare me, I thought something MUST be wrong with him. He could have a conversation with you, eyes open, and NEVER remember it. I often tried to get information from him during these "talks". LOL

  Anyway, we were young, and I was pregnant (so we were living with my mom) and I could not find him ANYWHERE in the house. I was tiptoeing around whispering "Jerry?" "Where are you?". I looked everywhere, even outside before I woke my mom. I was actually kind of worried he had wandered off and was sleepwalking somewhere in the mobile home park.

  Mom and I were both looking for him, calling out for him. Nothing. After about 15 minutes I hear him. Whispering (loudly) out to me from the front room. So, I go in there. "Jerry?" "Jerry!" "Answer me, where are you?"

  Who remembers console stereos? You know, the kind with the record player and 8 track tape player in the big, long, cabinet?

  Mom had ours catty corner in the front room and he was BUTT NAKED (his preferred sleeping attire, sorry TMI) BEHIND the console. Asking me, "Why am I here? Where are my clothes?"

  I couldn't help but laugh at him but was also so relieved to have found him. My heart was racing with worry, but now I was crying laughing. Mom got a good kick out of it too. I told her as I was going to our bedroom to grab his robe.

  He was something that's for sure.

  November 25, 2020

  Today is the day. The 6th anniversary of Jerry's passing.

  I've heard it said (and read it) that often new beginnings start with a painful ending. Well, isn't that the truth?

  So thankful that God is so clearly in charge and always has been. Love your peeps, they aren't here forever. And for goodness sakes, be kind to one another, ALL one another’s.

  December 2, 2020

  When I first met Jerry, he made me feel so incredibly beautiful and special.

  As I look back, in retrospect, his attention made me feel accepted, loved. Not because of anything he said.

  He never even proposed to me, but just told me we were getting married and so we did.

  I gained a lot of weight when I was pregnant, then nearly died having Paige. Then my mom got sick and died within 11 months of her diagnosis.

  I was on autopilot. Going through the motions of doing what was expected (or what I THOUGHT was expected) and trying to come to terms with it all.

  My head was so wrapped up in all of it, that losing weight didn't seem like a priority to me. I wasn't a priority to me. If I'm being brutally honest, I wasn't a priority to my spouse either. His first priority was alcohol.

  When I did try to eat better, make better choices, I often heard things like, "You can fix that for YOU, but I want our normal food, I don't need to diet."

  Paige was in grade school then and I wanted her to make healthy choices too. She was a healthy, active, kid but took after me. He would deliberately sabotage us, bring home pizza, or cake. Then make under his breath comments about weight (mostly to me).

  I tried so many diets but was not having any luck. I'd get some off, put it back on. And my self-esteem was lower than it ever had been.

  We got a computer and AOL. BIG MISTAKE. BIG.

  He would stay on that computer till all hours of the night, chatting in the chat rooms and drinking. At first, I thought it was all innocent fun because it was Nascar related and well, he LOVED Nascar.

  I'm not sure what made me suspicious, gut instinct maybe? But I started watching when I could, without him knowing (otherwise that would result in a HUGE fight). I tried to reason with him that being in a social setting, drinking, talking to other people (mostly women) was no different than being in a bar. He disagreed.

  This would go on for months. Me yelling, crying, begging him to limit his time on the computer. His niece was living with us at the time and I had confided in her about how upset I was. What I suspected. She had her online boyfriend send the computer a virus but didn't tell me.

  It crashed the computer. And I helped him get it repaired not knowing she was trying to help.

  In the meantime, a phone bill arrived (this was back when you paid for long distance) and it was CRAZY expensive. He tried to tell me it was work related and I wanted to believe him, so I let it go.

  I would catch him outside on the phone and he'd tell me he was talking to one of his work buddies. I believed him. I think. Or was I pushing it back and wanting so desperately to believe him I fooled myself? Probably more that than true belief.

  Until one day, I walked in and he had left his chat window open and he was asking the "room" where A (not real name) was. He had sent her a "wav" of a song, some sappy love song.

  My heart dropped. I knew better than to rush out to confront him and when I did, he told me he was involved with her and that she was coming from California in the next week or so to spend the weekend with him. That he was unhappy.

  My whole world crashed right then. I will never forget packing up mine and Paige's things that we would need for the next few days, calling my friend and asking to stay, and driving away.

  I had no family in Oklahoma, and I was too ashamed to tell them he was cheating on me with someone he met online. Paige and I were literally alone. Precisely the way he intended.

  December 3, 2020

  I remember sobbing until I finally gave way to sleep, laying on my friend’s bed while Paige played with her daughter.

  I remember thinking I had to pull myself together because I had to take care of Paige. But I wasn't sure how I was going to do it. The grief I felt then was so overwhelming I thought it would drown me. And I almost wanted it to. I wanted to not feel what I was feeling.

  Hurt. Betrayal. Anger. Resentment. Fear. Inadequate.

  I don't remember how I told my family. Still, don't remember. But my sister Dottie and her husband Paul were my pillars of strength. She loved me through it. Encouraged me, pushed me to get up and move. Along with my friend I was staying with.

  But I was still so incredibly sad.

  We found an apartment and after a few weeks, I started thinking, I can do this. WE can do this. Me and Paige.

  Years of being told I wasn't capable, no one would want me, I couldn't do it and yet, I was. Jerry had always controlled all the money so learning to navigate that was not easy, but I had a decent job and we ate cheap. He certainly didn't help with any money.

  His California girlfriend had moved in with him by then and Paige and I were long forgotten while he was busy starting his new life with her. I blamed her for a long time because I couldn't accept the fact that Jerry was flawed. Jerry had made these choices.

  I made some new friends, started feeling like I had hope again. I was able to go out and sing when Paige had friends over. But I still missed him.

  How can you miss someone who's been so awful to you? Who's betrayed you and his child? Who's mistreated you in unimaginable ways?

  And he still had a hold on me to some extent. When I would see him or he would call, my heart raced. I would later try to figure out if it was because I really loved him, or did I want to win? What was I winning though?

  I let him walk all over me. He called; I went running. Angie giving him trouble, I was his go to when he needed someone to talk to. WTH was wrong with me?

  The relationship didn't last long. She was there maybe 6 months before it was over and of course, he wanted to try to put us back together. And of course, I went bells and whistles and all.

  My friend, Kenny (he had dated another friend of mine) warned me not to go, EVERYONE warned me, (kind of like when I got married to him) but I remember Kenny because he was a guy and my friend, and he understood other guys. I went anyway.

  Chapter 18

  Kenny

  Kenny.

  Kenny plays a GINORMOUS part in my life. He
was kind to me, a friend to me. Wonderful with Paige.

  When he and my friend he was dating didn't work out, Kenny remained in my life AS MY FRIEND. He never made me feel uncomfortable and he would take Paige and her friends to the water park and Frontier City (amusement park).

  He made me believe that I was worth something.

  And he didn't bail when I went back to Jerry. He became both of our friends (and friends with our other friends) and we would often hang out and grill together. Go out and sing at the local karaoke bar where I ran karaoke. (Jerry had pretty much made me give up music YEARS before, so karaoke was the closest thing I could get away with.)

  Things with Jerry were different. I wanted so badly to believe he had changed and for the first couple of months home, things seemed to be going in a positive direction.

  But I was always on guard. Always prepared for the next shoe to drop and rug to be pulled out from under me.

  People at work noticed. They said I looked tired and unhappy. But I didn't see it.

  I saw a woman desperately trying to salvage the only thing she had held onto since her mom died. That was ME. He was ALL I had. I simply HAD to make this work.

  And just like that, I was back to being "that" wife.

  Begging for money from him (after handing over my paycheck), explaining why I spent so much at the grocery store, promising to lose weight, doing all the cooking, cleaning. Calling all the bill collectors and making some excuse why we were late (including our landlord), making excuses to my family for things he controlled.

  Sex was not enjoyable, but I so craved love from him that I made myself question why. There must be something wrong with me, right?

  Jerry's porn addiction had made him think all women want things like he was seeing. When he'd try some of these things and I would say no, he would do it anyway, often holding me down, pulling my hair, pinching me hard enough to tear my skin, telling me, "Shut up bitch, you know you like it." I would lay there until it was over, and he would go to sleep then I would go soak in the bath and cry. Is this how it's supposed to be? Had I read too many romance novels and there was no fairy tale?

  Did women REALLY like this and get pleasure from it? This would be the course of our sex life. Never intimate, seldom loving. Always forceful, angry, sex.

  I craved intimacy and love, not this.

  He made me feel like something was wrong with me. He would tell me maybe it was my weight that I couldn't find pleasure in these things. And I wondered if he was right. (Can you say gaslighting?)

  As I sit and write this, I'm shaking my head at MYSELF because with perspective I can see SO FREAKING clear, but then, then it was different. I was different.

  Kenny listened to me when I confided in him. He tried to tell me that was was happening to me was abuse and I wouldn't hear it. Abused women look like they got the hell beat of them. Jerry only got physical during sex. I was definitely NOT abused. And I would shut him down if he brought it up again. (See that pattern, if I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist. The brains way of coping.)

  It was about 6 months into our being back home when "eyes2diefor69" messaged him and asked if Paige and I had left for my sisters yet. How did she know I had a sister and went to visit? Who was she?

  My birthday had been a few weeks before and our bartender, Pat asked me if I knew someone from Louisiana because they called the bar looking for Jerry. ON MY BIRTHDAY! I thought that strange then, but when I saw that message I started putting the pieces together. He was doing it again with some woman he met online.

  I found a way to get his wallet after he had passed out one night soon after. Her screen name, along with her real name, E (I won’t use her legal name), her home phone number, work number, my SSN and Paige's SSN were right there.

  Instead of confronting him, I called her. She confirmed everything I suspected and told me she was in love with him. I distinctly remember telling her, "Well, he's a functional alcoholic, who can't be faithful, I'm warning you up front."

  And then I broke again.

  This time, I was so angry. Mostly at myself for allowing him in again. For trusting him.

  But this time, I divorced him. And Kenny helped me, and Paige get moved. Another friend sent us pizza the day we moved in, knowing how incredibly tired we would be. And yet again, my sister and brother in love, loved me through it.

  The shame I felt was like a coat I couldn't get off. I wasn't the one who had cheated, but I felt the shame as if everyone in the world knew how stupid I was.

  Kenny told me I was not stupid and that I deserved so much more than what I had gotten. I told him a line from the movie, "Hope Floats". "I got the best thing out of the relationship and she's sitting right there in the other room."

  He let me cry in his arms and he continued to be a good friend to Paige and me.

  Little did I know, he would teach me so much more about myself.

  We had found this little house that we both just loved. The washer and dryer were in the kitchen, but I didn't care. I felt peace there. A peace I hadn’t felt in way too long. And Kenny would come hang out with us often. We would make dinner and watch movies.

  I had taken most of the things we would need.

  I did leave Jerry with things so he wouldn't be totally without. And E came to live with him. I hated her. She represented all I wasn’t in my messed-up mind, but I tried to at least be civil.

  Chapter 19

  Surgeries

  Years before this (and with a different doctor) I had looked into weight loss surgery. I knew my health wasn't great with my weight being what it was, and a part of me wanted to feel good about myself too. And I KNEW there was no way I was going to let Jerry and E get Paige, so in my mind it was easy. I HAD to stay alive and I had to lose weight to stay alive and this was an option to seriously consider. I was scared though and fearful of the what ifs.

  In the meantime, Paige had to get her tonsils out. We fought repeated strep with her and the doctors FINALLY agreed that this would help.

  Dottie and Paul came up to be at the hospital with us. Jerry came too. Thankfully he left E at home.

  He brought me the crockpot I asked for. Strange how it had all come down to this. He's bringing me things we used when we were a family, handing them over to me like they mean nothing to him. WE mean nothing to him. Even talking to him was uncomfortable and strained, forced.

  In her always amazing style, my sister remained friendly and civil (even though I'm pretty sure she wanted to throttle him).

  Paige did fine and ate steak for dinner that night. A couple days later though, not so much. She freaked out when a HUGE scab sloughed off the back of her throat into the sink, BUT, she hasn't had strep since then and that's been a LONG time ago now.

  Kenny checked in often, since he was a nurse of course he had to make sure Paige was doing okay.

  The only thing I asked of Jerry was to not make a fool of me at the bar where we both went, and I worked there (running karaoke) on the weekends. That was the ONLY thing I asked of him.

  I was on stage singing and they were in the back of the bar, sucking face big time. I was so humiliated. We were STILL married. (Of course, so was she, but she left her kids and husband to come be with mine).

  I didn't drink then (I would more than make up for that later though) but I went behind the bar and THREW open the beer cooler, grabbed a Budweiser and marched myself down to where she was. (I was still behind the bar). I am not sure exactly what I said, but I'm pretty sure the words "whore", "homewrecker", and "bitch" were thrown out there by me.

  Jerry had been in the bathroom and missed it all. I went back up to the stage to start the next song when he marched up there and got IN MY FACE, pushing me, yelling at me. The owner's son in law and another regular immediately jumped on stage and escorted him out the door. He cussed me the entire time. I felt sweet satisfaction to be perfectly honest.

  It was then that I realized these people didn't have any respect for him, but they loved me and ha
d my back. I needed to know that people (other than my family) saw HIM as the one who screwed up, not me.

  They didn't come in much after that (at least not when I was working) but one day I got a call from the daytime bartender. She told me they were there drinking mixed drinks, paying cash.

  She told me because she knew I was working three jobs and he was paying NOTHING in child support. What did I do? What any mother would do (I think).

  I got in my car and drove up there. The owner (Bobby) was there and I think he knew I was coming. Jerry was sitting at the bar and E was sitting in a booth with another regular. I told him he wouldn't have a pot to piss in when I was done with him and called him some other choice names.

  I turned around and she was now between the pool table and jukebox and I hollered at her. "I hope you heard everything I just said to him, because it will affect you too, you homewrecking bitch." And then it happened. She got in my face and started yelling back at me (I had it coming). But she SPIT on me and that set me off.

  I shoved her so hard, she fell backwards into the jukebox, then I was on her, throwing punches (I think I connected once) and kicking. Bobby (the owner) let us fight for a bit then came over and in his raspy voice said, "Terri, knock it off, stop it! Don't make me call the cops damnit!" And so, I stopped, apologized to him and walked out.

  The whole time we were fighting, Jerry sat at the bar, on his barstool and watched. Like he was enjoying every minute of two women fighting over him. In retrospect I wonder. “How messed up is that?”

  I had once scratch on my arm when I got home. Paige insisted I clean it good because I could have some horrible disease from that woman. (I'm not proud that I showed her fighting was a constructive way to handle things but...)

  Turns out, I knocked the diamond earrings right out of her ears and they only found one. She laid low, but I was told later (by Jerry) that her face was pretty bruised and scratched up and her eye swollen. And me, not being a fighter, felt pride. (I shouldn’t, but I did.)