WARNING: This is not a funny blog. Anything found to be humorous is unintentional. Hopefully this will provide some insight as to why I am the man I am, and why I'll never be the one I was.
February 12, 2009: I was standing in the pax terminal on base, saying goodbye to my wife and son for the first time since he'd been born. He was 16 months old, and I was so jealous of him. He had no idea what was going on, and what was coming in the next four months. Of course, in a way... I didn't either.
My wife and I had decided months before that deploying in February was the best option we had. We wanted to buy a home... a real home. We were sick of living in tiny apartments and duplexes. We needed to consolidate some bills, and waiting would have resulted in being forced to go during the summer... or worse yet, in the fall. Had I gone in Fall, I would have missed her birthday, his birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas. No thanks.
We packed our house into storage, and the plan was for Katie and Dillon to stay with her parents in California while I was deployed. This saved us a ton of money in rent, utilities, etc. etc. I even had our car shipped out there for her to drive while she was there. Fast forward to a week before deployment. I didn't want to go. I was trying to mentally prepare myself to leave my little boy, but it wasn't working. Nothing was working. Just the thought of it was heart-wrenching. But inevitably, the day came.
I held him for as long as I could, as though it was the last time I'd ever see him. It was not completely out of the question that it could have been either... I was going to support the war effort. Anything is possible out there. I kissed them both goodbye at least a dozen times. Hiding my tears from my fellow deployers was completely futile while plodding out to the rotator. They understood, I think.
I managed to not think about it and sleep until we got to germany. We were on the ground there for a few hours, and I tried to call home a few times. I didn't realize it cost $20 each time I attempted to call, regardless of whether anyone answered or not. Scratch 180 some odd dollars there. Whatever. It's just money. Skip to the desert.
At this point, I don't really remember specifics of arrival. I remember that arrival and inprocessing was bewildering, as usual. I know that the base had changed quite significantly since I'd last been there 6 years prior. I was staying in a real room, as opposed to a tent. I still had to walk quite a ways to the bathroom. The big change was that we were now working 12 hour days, 6 days on and 1 day off. My previous deployments had been 3 days on, 1 day off. However, the extra day on made the time pass a bit faster.
I would try to call almost every day to say I love you to my wife and son. I cried a lot, although I never showed it. I worked out, and looked for houses on the internet to pass the time. Luckily, they cut our trip a month short. We were now scheduled to come home in May instead of April. It all seems like a blur now, but i was counting the days until I was on the way home.
In the last few weeks, things started getting weird. Katie stopped taking my calls, or would answer very infrequently. I practically had to beg her to send me pictures of my son. I couldn't help but notice she'd scrubbed me off of her facebook and myspace pages. I didn't think about it though. My mind was completely focused on getting home, getting my house and getting my family in it.
May 13: I landed at home, and was greeted by my Aunt Lara, my stepdad and my brothers. I think my sister was there, but again... it's a blur. I called Katie to tell her I was home, and she was nonchalant about it. She had decided it would be better if I were to come out there instead of having her and Dillon fly back to NC, just to fly out there to visit again. The two people who I most wanted to see weren't there. My mom couldn't make it because, as I've found out, she has fractured her pelvis, and they've found that the cancer that she's been in remission for has returned.
May 15: Katie hasn't been answering the phone. I literally haven't heard from her since I talked to her after getting off the plane. I'm on the way to see the house I've found. I'm driving my stepdads truck because my car has broken down the day before. My phone rings... it's Katie. She's straightforward with it. She's not coming home. I've never felt a pain like this before... but I pull myself together long enough to go see the house. Then, like a little boy who got beat up on the playground, I run back to my moms and fall apart.
Nobody understands what's going on. I can't get straight answers from anyone. This person is telling me she's not happy here, that person is telling me it's my fault and I need to work to win her back... I can't eat. I can't sleep. My days become consumed with the horror of the thought of becoming that dad that only gets to see his son during the summer. I spent two weeks with them in California, only to return home many several hundred dollars lighter and even more confused than before. Time passes still...
Sometime in September: My mom has been fighting her cancer still. I don't know if I remember the dates, or the sequence of events... but along the lines she's broken a few vertebrae, and some ribs. The cancer is in her bones. She's a trooper though... she never shows her pain, and consoles me through mine. She's the strongest person I know, but I'm so wrapped up in my own self loathing. Dillon has been with me for a visit for a few weeks. Life is pretty good, and everyone is enjoying his company.
I get a phone call. These days, calls from Katie are quite dreaded as they're never good news. She says those words that crush my world... "I've been having an affair". I don't think I've ever sobbed that hard. This night, self-loathing was overtaken by anger. A lot of screaming ensues. Phone calls, tears, shouting, angry texts, explanations, begging, pleading, more shouting... they all punctuate the next few months. It seems my efforts to keep my marriage together only serve to drive it further apart. I think about killing myself a lot. More realistically, I just want to die. I can't help but think that the pain would be gone. All the suffering and tears and nausea would just disappear. I also can't help but think that I'll never get to see my boy grow up. I wouldn't be there to guide him and help become a good man. This thought keeps my finger off the trigger, keeps me from hurling myself into traffic, stepping off a building... the list goes on and on.
Sometime in December: Moms been in and out of the hospital a few times. Sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks. She's been very sick. She's mostly kept doped up to control pain and nausea, but no one can figure out what's wrong with her. We finally find out that they have found some cancer spots in her brain. My stupid piece of shit stepdad decides he needs to misunderstand what the doctor is telling him, and tell the whole family that she has a few weeks to live, maybe. I want to choke the life out of him when she wakes up and tells us that it's going to be okay, he didn't understand what he was told and that radiation should take care of it.
Dillons going back to California for Christmas. There is still much animosity between Katherine and I, but we put it aside for Dillons sake. I was lucky enough to have great in-laws. They paid for me to fly out so I could be with him on Christmas. It was a great time, and tensions between Katie and I are easing... albeit slowly.
May 2010: It's been a year. Dillon is back, and staying longer because my mom has gotten sick again. It's bad this time. The cancer has spread to her liver, and the ammonia is building up in her system. It's causing her to be lethargic, and act strangely. She calls me and tells me one day that they've decided that she's done fighting, and there's nothing more that they can do. I died a little that day. My heart broke into a million pieces. My mother... my beautiful, strong mother passed away on mothers day. I've never felt more lost... alone... depressed... I don't even know how to act.
June 2010: My stepfather, a man that I've had much respect for since he married my mother, becomes a piece of shit overnight. We've found out that he's been seeing some woman for the last year and a half, and damn near a month after my mother dies he's engaged to her. What kind of sad, pathetic excuse for a man cheats on his wife, let alone when she has cancer. All of a sudden, all of my rage and hatred is focused squarely on him and him alone. His explanations and excuses fall on deaf ears, and in one fell swoop he's ostracized himself from the whole family. My anger towards the man who made me a cuckold pales in comparison to the hatred I feel towards the man who betrayed my mother. I'm not Jesus, I will not forgive.
Obviously, there's more to the story than this. In the interest of brevity, I've abridged the story quite a bit. Maybe I'll include them when I pay someone to write this into a novel that no one will want to read one day. This is not an excuse for who I am now, only a glimpse into why I am. I have hope for the future...
I love you Mom.
Note the zombie like appearance.
