Home » A Wasted Life » Trying To Repair The Cracks

Trying To Repair The Cracks

We were still feeling each other out so to speak.  I was looking for the glue to try to put something back together and J*** seemed to be somewhat detached, almost like nothing was broken.
That was something that would be a constant in our lives.  He would say or do something (most of the time when he had been drinking) would get over it and then act like he had no idea why I was upset.  I think it’s a trait that he inherited from R***.  Her drunken stupors rendered unbelievable torture.  She wouldn’t remember it the next day and couldn’t understand why I was mad….and like J***,  she would get mad at me for being mad at her.  It was a revolving door with them.
Our birthdays were coming up and I invited L*****  to help us celebrate.  She seemed to be a little taken aback but agreed to come over.  She brought presents for both of us.  Her present to me the promise of a girls’ day out, which never materialized and her present to J*** was six months of free video rentals at Blockbuster.
In those next few months since he had come back home, we weren’t having quite as many fights as we used to but we weren’t talking about anything of substance either.
He was still spending most of his time at work and coming home late.  Sometimes he would walk in and I would ask him if he had been drinking.  He would get that Cheshire-cat smile on his face and say no.  I would ask to smell his breath and he would breath in and then laugh.  I worried about him driving home after he had been drinking and he seemed to drink every day.
J*** didn’t talk much about his job but did say that he hated the editor and vice-versa.  What else was new?
J*** had made a few very good friends, most of whom are still his friends today.  One of them became one of my dearest friends and continued to be until the day he died.  He was the only one of J***s’ friends who treated me like an individual and not just an extension of J***.  He appreciated my talents and didn’t dismiss them as merely a pastime.  He use to call me “a force of nature” and once told me that if he could find somebody like me, he would get married tomorrow.  I remember saying “oh, S***.  How you do run on….teasing a country girl like me.”  It was straight out of Gone With the Wind and he got it.  He enjoyed my sense of humor and I enjoyed his.
J*** also made quite a few enemies.  Eventually, smoking was banned in the open newsroom so they created a “smoking room.”  After it was banned throughout the paper, that room became J***s’ office.  He got to work one day and somebody had taped a poster on the door.  It was a picture of a huge gorilla with the caption “nobody likes a bully.”  He took the poster off of the door and hung it in his office.  Things like that didn’t seem to bother J***.  I didn’t understand why he would so prominently display it, unless it was for the intimidation factor.  It was almost like he enjoyed it.
It was October and our 12th anniversary was coming up.  It was our first in O******.  He surprised me by taking me to The Purple Porpoise Restaurant, which would become a tradition for us until it closed down.
While we were sitting in the booth waiting for our food, he handed me a box.  I opened it and there was a diamond eternity wedding band!  It was by far the best and most expensive present he had ever given me.  I was absolutely blown away.  Nine months earlier he had walked out and now, he was giving me this extraordinary gift.  I thought maybe things were healing for us.
L***** had stopped coming around and I found it strange.  It was almost as if she had vanished off of the face of the planet.  I guess I thought she was giving us time.
J*** was still capable of angry outbursts, probably because I was mad at him and he didn’t know how to “talk things through” then.
One night, B***** walked in the kitchen and said “dad, is it going to rain tomorrow?”  He whipped around and said “I don’t know!  I’m not the fucking weatherman!”  She started crying and then he yelled “what are you fucking crying about?”  That kind of reaction was something that we were all used to but it didn’t mean that we weren’t affected.
I certainly had my share of losing my temper and raising my voice.  Most of the time it was out of pure frustration or because I had a migraine headache and even a feather hitting the ground sounded like an atomic bomb going off.  My poor children were helpless and were just doing what they needed to do and certainly didn’t deserve to be treated badly.  I know they have never forgotten it and I have never lost the guilt over what my precious children had to endure.
Nothing had changed as far as it only being me with the children….all the time….and when J*** was at home, it was almost as if it was an unspoken rule…he was not to be bothered.  All of us knew that if he was in the bathroom, we were NOT to disturb him.  On the other hand, I hadn’t been able to pee by myself in ten years.  Some or all of the children would be standing in the doorway, just chatting away like I was sitting on the sofa.
We were going to have our first Christmas in O******.  I had never been into decorating, mainly because we couldn’t afford it and because Christmas held sad memories for me from my childhood.
We had an artificial tree that I had bought in P***********.  It was in storage the year before so that’s why we had gotten the one and only live tree we ever had.  The same plastic red apples adorned this tree as they had adorned the tree at the condo.
For some reason, I got up early the day after Christmas and went to K-Mart.  I got a tall Motionette Santa Clause for almost nothing…..and that started the ball rolling.  Christmas would never be the same at the H*** house again…..as far as decorations.
J*** was telling me that he loved me again and had blamed his “descent in to madness” on the experience in D***** but he never shied away from talking to me like I was less than human at times.  I didn’t understand how somebody who supposedly loved me could act so hateful.  I began honing my passive spitefulness and wasn’t even aware that it was happening.

One thought on “Trying To Repair The Cracks

  1. I’m so glad she had at least one person who showed her respect and could appreciate her as a human being. Other the that, this gets sadder and more frightening with each post. When will she realize that this is no marriage, it’s an abuse factory?

    Like

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s