Brokenhearted

It's strange sometimes when I think of our instincts as women. That little hair standing up on the backs of our necks, that litte twinge, that nagging doubt. We've come to understand that we must trust that instinct and go with it. It never lies. That's how I found out my husband was having an affair.
I started noticing him receiving text messages and calls late at night. Even if he was half asleep he would jump up and grab that cell phone. I know that feeling, that euphoria all too well. But of course I brushed it off. I even made a comment to him one night after his tapping and tapping on his cell phone annoyed me "Tell your girlfriend to call at a decent time". I had no idea how right I was.
One day an impulse compelled me to grab our cell phone bill and take a look. And there was a number, repeated over and over: 542-6644. More then my own number on his call log. On one page, there were over 20 calls alone. I immediately confronted him about the number. "What number, Ingrid, what are you talking about"? "Oh, um, she's my friend JoJo from work, you know, the girl I give a ride to." First off, I don't know anything about his friend JoJo and a ride he gives her. And may I ask who calls for a ride to work at 12 a.m.? And if you work with her, why has she called you all throughout the day? Ridiculous.
My marriage has been troubled for a while now. We rarely have sex anymore, we're more like room-mates. I love my husband, but I can't say I'm in love with him. Things just aren't right anymore. Before our oldest son died, I had planned to leave. Once AJ passed, my plans changed. We had a common bond now. Grief. 8 months after AJ passed, his mother passed away after a tough battle with brain cancer. I certainly could not leave him now. So I stayed.
After we brought his mom home to Louisiana for burial, we liked the peace and solitude that Alexandria offered. We came back again and again to make sure we really wanted to live here, then we sold our house in Long Beach, California and moved to a small town right outside of Alexandria.
The first year was great, we bought a new house, furnished it, did the landscaping, we had a ball. It was like being newlyweds again. We did everything together. Then my husband decided to work for FedEx Ground as an Independent Contractor and I decided to work with him. It was tough being together 24/7 but we worked through it.
But as time went on, the same old feelings that I tried to run away from in California reared it's ugly head and my husband and I started to become distant again. It was tough to deal with, almost like my life was going in reverse.
So, here we are. Infidelity. Cheating. Chick on the side. But I must go on. I have my life to live. Who knows what the future holds, but I know this thing is not going to defeat me. I refuse to allow it to.

Full Circle

As I was laying in my bed early this morning, I started thinking about my youngest son and myself. Joshua is 20 years old and has become a person I sometimes don't recognize anymore. It started me thinking of myself when I was young.I'll admit it, I gave my mother a run for her money, my quest was to be the worst daughter ever. I smoked, drank, stole, slept around and lied about it all. I hung out with the dregs of Society and even brought them home, I was a mess. Of course, my mom issued me the standard line that has rung true, "One day you will have a child that is just like you". 20 years ago I had Josh. Even though he has not necessarily run with the dregs of Society and he abhors drinking and smoking, he has given me a run for my money. How, you ask? By being one of the most selfish people I know. Of course, we know our kids (not all, but some) have a tendency, in this day and age, to feel a sense of entitlement. What with everything being handed to them on a silver platter, such as computers, Ipods, cell phones and the like, children nowadays have undergone somewhat of a metamorphosis as far as knowing what it feels like to want. My son has a job, but he thinks we are mean to ask him to pay towards the bills because he needs to save for a car. Not the 2001 Ford Taurus that I worked hard to pay for that needs minimal work on it, but the car of his dreams. Why should we ask him to pitch in around the house, taking out trash and washing dishes is for amateurs. When he buys sodas and puts some in the refrigerator, how dare his mother drink one without his permission. Why should he be cordial to his own brother, it's a dog eat dog world out there. Besides, this world revolves around Josh, not Troy. As I watch this person that I raised become this person I don't know, I can't help but to think how things have come full circle for me. I can remember the look of worry on my mothers face as I strolled into the house way past curfew, not a care in the world. I can remember not sharing things with my brother Eric, even though he would readily share with me. I can remember how, as a single parent, my mom worked hard for the things that I had and I was totally ungrateful. Boy, how things have changed for me. Now I understand what it means to feel as though all my sacrifice has been for naught. I understand what it means to feel as though this person I gave birth to will never truly understand what it feels like to be humble. And all I can say is this, "One day, he will have a child that will be just like him".

Black Butterfly Part 1

July 22, 2005. The worst day of my life. And the start of my journey. It was the day my oldest son AJ left this life and went on to the next...

AJ was born on April 30, 1984 in Lakewood, California. He was so beautiful, with big bright eyes that seemed so knowledgeable, even at the beginning of his life. He was 20 1/2 inches long, the Doctors proclaimed he would be very tall (they were right)

As he got older (and taller) he was quiet and introspective, always such a good son and big brother. He was the one I could depend on to do the right thing, the one who would do things without being asked. He reminded me so much of myself at his age, the one in the background quietly observing, never quite bold enough to step up and be heard.

Once he got into High School, he seemed to find his niche'. He joined the ROTC and excelled in the ranks, a natural leader. He participated in every ceremony there was, from putting flags on the graves of Veterans during Veterans Day to marching in the local parade, he loved it. He loved it so much that it seemed natural for him to go off to the Navy after High School.

After Boot Camp, AJ moved around a bit, eventually settling in Coronado, CA (which was close to home) He was stationed aboard the USS John C. Stennis, CVN-74, which is a Nuclear Carrier. He came home every chance he got, at 6'7" it was nice for him to sleep in a real bed and eat some of moms' cooking. It was always so nice to see him duck under our doorways and scoop me up in an embrace, always smelling so good. He was so slim I could wrap my arms around his waist, giving him a big bear hug.

In late 2004, the Stennis was transferred to Bremerton, Washington to go into drydock for needed repairs and updating. AJ was not happy about being so far from home, but he knew it was temporary. He would try to come home when he could.

Bremerton is a small town with not much to do, AJ was miserable there. He and his friends tried to make the best of it, but it was hard. We were really looking forward to when he could come home for a visit. Maybe his 21st birthday? Maybe not. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

April 30, AJ turned 21. The day before, I had a long talk with him about the trend of 21 alcohol shots, he decided that was not for him.

Instead, he met a wonderful young lady named Regina who turned his life around.

For once since moving to Washington, he was happy. He spent time in Seattle, he went to Mariner games, he bowled, he biked, he got tattoos, he was having a ball. He was 21 and in love. His brothers were enthralled with how "hot" AJ's girlfriend was, I was glad he had someone to make him so happy, it was a win-win situation.

Somehow it all went wrong. Regina was a student and was working full time. The relationship was moving so fast. She suggested they take a break, she needed time to get caught up with school and work.

July 21st, some time during the evening, AJ called Regina to say he had taken an overdose of sleeping pills. Not believing him, she suggested he see a Doctor. He left his barrack, walked out into the hallway and their phone connection was broken. She was unable to call him the rest of the evening.

July 22, he is discovered in his barrack, non-responsive, but breathing. He is rushed to the local Hospital. Meanwhile, my youngest son calls me at work to tell me there is an emergency with AJ. I leave work and drive home.

Once at home, his C.O calls me and gives me the phone number to the Hospital. After finding out he is in the ICU, I talk to a nurse who bluntly tells me "He has taken an overdose of sleeping pills and is not expected to make it". Just like that. YOU BITCH!

20 minutes later, my worst fear is imagined when I receive the call that he is dead. Dead? DEAD! My child, my son, my firstborn, my baby, is gone. Just like that. How can that be? How am I supposed to bury my child, he's supposed to bury me, right?