After a week I had to return home for my sisters graduation. I decided to move to Utah. What kind of almost-fiancé would I be if I didn't? He said he needed me. It's nice to be needed. I crashed at his parents, in his room until he was able to come home. Then I moved in with a sweet neighbor family. In between job hunting I spent my time with him. I finally was hired through a temp agency. (That job placement is another saga with another power tripping, highly controlling man. I knew how to pick 'em.)
After a few months I found a room to rent from a sweet older lady. She was at the head of my road to recovery. I will forever be grateful to her and her part in my life. When I get to the other side, she will be among the first people I want to see.
I learned a lot about cancer, doctors, nurses, drugs, and hospitals in the months that followed. It was a roller coaster that I couldn't get off. His mom didn't want me there, his dad was a rock for me, and he loved and hated me all at the same time. I never knew what kind of mood awaited me when I walked through those doors. Something within me was beginning to change, though it took me a long time to realize that.
When we lived in Vegas I slowly quit going to church. There was always an excuse from him, and I didn't want to go alone. When I moved to Utah it was expected that I go. It felt good to be back, though I felt unworthy and unsure of what to do. Hindsight is so much clearer! While I did have some repenting to do, it was Satan using my fears and shortcomings against me. Master manipulator.
There was a sweet sister in the ward who encouraged me to go to the singles ward. That was the last thing I wanted to do. When he was feeling up to it though, we went to institute. I loved that class. I loved the teacher. I loved the institute couple. (Whom I now live next door too.) I finally was feeling like myself again. I met one of my now closest friends there. I remember a particular return missionary attending when he was home from college for the summer, and his brother who was on his way to serve in Brazil. I got more comfortable in institute and learned that most of the young adults there went to the singles ward, I decided to give it a try. I was actually shocked by how welcoming and friendly the ward was. I made so many friends and enjoyed the activities. I tried to get him to come with me, but I don't think he ever did.
The more involved in my new life I got, the brighter the light at the end of the tunnel got. I moved in with a couple of friends and we had so much fun. We made our home a fun place to be and entertained often. The more I got involved with life the further he and I moved apart. It got to the point where he would call occasionally and I would tell him I was busy. I wasn't dating anyone, but I wasn't waiting for him either. It was such a tender mercy from God, and a reminder that God loves me and has always watched out for me.
There was a test yet to come. He called and said he was dying, again, and this time he wasn't going to pull through. The Drs. gave him less than a month. I was crushed, but this time in a different way. His family was going to lose their son, brother, and uncle. It was really happening and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. I was a mess. It's kind of comical to me now, but I know without a doubt, this part of my story was essential. My friends tried to take my mind off it and we went to a movie. Later that evening some more friends came by to hang out. One of those was the return missionary from my institute class. We had a mutual friend who would invite this guy and another whenever she was coming over. That may or may not have earned her more frequent invites simply because there were guys involved. That evening I am sure they all thought I was nuts. I don't remember a lot, but one of them took out our garbage. I have a pretty good idea who. That was Saturday. On Sunday the RM from institute gave a talk in Sacrament meeting that I needed to hear. I don't remember what was spoken, but I do remember what was felt.
Four days later I had another call. This time he wanted me to come see him at the hospital one last time. Actually, it might have been the very last time. I can't remember now. I was playing volleyball with friends, but felt like I should go. I walked into that hospital room and knew immediately that it was over. The weight was lifted from my shoulders. After a brief conversation, I walked away and didn't look back.
The next day, RM from institute asked me out to a basketball game. We went to most of the games that season. We were engaged four months later.
About a month and a half before our wedding, I got one last phone call. This time I was surprised to hear him asking forgiveness. He had been through the temple and wanted me to know he was sorry. He wished me luck and told me I would love the temple. He died a few weeks later. I didn't go to the funeral.
Looking back I am disappointed in so many of my choices. It's hard to regret it all though, because I had no intentions of moving to Utah. Ever. I don't know why things happened the way they did, or how different my life would have been without him, but I do know I wouldn't trade my life right now for anything. And if that's the only way I could get here from there, so be it.
I can't blame my poor choices on him, but I have learned how powerful manipulation can be. I allowed my agency to slowly slip away without even recognizing it. That's something I will never allow again. I don't wish to rehash all of the terrible things that he did and said, I chose to forgive him long ago, but it happened and it will always be a part of me. Emotional abuse and manipulation have long lasting, far reaching effects on people. I can't get that time back, but I can use what I've learned to do better myself and to help others. If I can help one person avoid or escape this type of situation it won't feel so pointless. I'd like to hope that had he not got cancer (which is horrible and I would not wish on anybody!) I'd have snapped out of it and realized I deserved better, but thinking of the track we were on it probably would have taken me a long time. It probably would have included a bad marriage and a nasty divorce. I know my self well enough to know that eventually I would have got myself back together and made better choices. I think a lot of (different) heartache was avoided. I remember in the months leading up to my wedding worrying about what crazy things he would do to wreak havoc in my life even though he wasn't a part of it anymore. I worried about what kind of strain that would put on my marriage and what else my sweet husband would have to deal with because of my past. For his family's sake, I wish it could have been different. For mine, I don't know that I could have had peace any other way. That's probably selfish sounding, but I just couldn't trust him to leave me alone.
There is one random memory that makes me laugh, at myself...not at the situation, now that I have a lot more experience in the hospital setting. It was a particularly critical time and he was really sick. He was sleeping and I was sitting in the hospital room with his parents, watching the monitors. All of a sudden the heart line went flat and I freaked out. His mom yelled at me to get out of the room. As I did, I somehow cut my hand. I still have a scar. A few minutes later his dad came out to check on me and told me the sensor had come of his hand. I for sure overreacted, but again, I didn't know any better. I'm very familiar with that sensor now, a pulse-oximeter, and death is not my first thought when it flat lines. Sometimes those are really hard to keep on people!
I am so grateful for the good that has come of such a horrible time in my life.
I'm grateful for a husband who treats me wonderfully and had helped me overcome this without even knowing it.
I'm grateful for the amazing people God placed along my journey and the impact they continue to have.
Most of all, I'm grateful for the plan of happiness that allows me to repent, forgive, and look forward to eternity with the love of my existence and the beautiful family we have.
No comments:
Post a Comment