Turns out Jerry had run into him and he told Jerry (who had his share of issues and was a drinker too) he had been living at a shelter. Jerry was not going to let that happen, so he started staying with us.
I really didn’t mind at first because he played the guitar and loved music as much as I did. We’d drive Jerry crazy staying up till all hours of the night playing music. Music had always been able to let me lose myself for a while, and we lost track of time A LOT.
It was a nice distraction from the complexities of what my life had become, but at night, when I would lay down, the self-loathing was still there. The doubt still there. The anger, hurt, and resentment, still there. My mind raced with thoughts like a broken record of everything I’d screwed up in my life. They wouldn’t stop and they haunted my dreams.
Even drinking couldn’t help me escape it and I hated everything about me and what I had become.
We tried multiple times to get Jerry on disability. We were denied each time by their doctors. And Jerry was growing worse and worse. Drinking more, eating less. Lashing out at me, sometimes physically. Paige had to pull him off me once when he was stark naked, choking me on the bed. Another time when he had me by the neck in the hallway, she stepped between us and told him if he ever touched her mother again, she’d kill him.
I finally took control of the car and took away his keys. He wasn’t physically able to drive anymore. To my surprise, he didn’t fight me on it. I think he knew he was really sick. I still wondered if it was just a ploy to get out of working and sit around and drink all day.
We were behind on everything. But I had no idea how behind until I took over. And it was bad. It’s a wonder we weren’t evicted but I’m thankful God intervened, and my landlord agreed to work with me.
I got a new job at OU and we finally got an appointment for Jerry to see a different doctor. I took the day off to go with him. 7 days later he was dead.
I couldn’t go back to work. I’m thankful his friend was still here because to be frank, I don’t know that I would have survived this loss. He was grieving too though and we both were able to talk about Jerry’s death in a constructive way I suppose. Like I said earlier, I always known in the back of my head that the only way I’d ever get away completely was if he died. And that if I didn’t stay with him, he’d die alone. THAT is what continuous long-term abuse does to you.
We had hired an attorney before Jerry died to help us get his disability. We got a hearing AFTER he died. And the judge was very nice. He apologized for my loss, clearly he wasn’t able to work. He awarded us his back disability, roughly 11 months of pay, which was not much considering he had been out of work for years for the most part AND because we were so far in the hole.
I caught up the rent (nearly $5,000) and utilities. The only thing I purchased for me was a pair of boots (that I still have). We lived on the rest.
And through it all, his best friend kept me sane. Made sure I was okay. But we were both still drinking, and I was still miserable.
When Jerry died, his mother made most of the decisions. She had told us at the hospital (before I even understood he was going to die) that we were just going to have a graveside service and she said his brother offered to pay for everything. I told her, no, I wanted to pay part. She told me we’d figure it out later. I can’t imagine losing your child.
But when we got to the funeral home, the kids and I picked out a casket we thought was true to Jerry, and realized it was too expensive. His brother said he’d have to go to the bank and see what he could do. His mom said we’d just pay it off monthly. At this point, we thought he was going to have to be buried in the cheapest, pressed wood, blue velvet covered, casket they had. Paige was devastated. Nearly inconsolable. She did not want her daddy to be buried in that casket. She called her friends to see about moving him to Norman and we’d plan our own service. With a video tribute and our people.
Then the kids (Jerry’s son, and Paige) and I went outside, and we discussed cremation. It was certainly MUCH cheaper, and Jerry was already gone. His mom didn’t want to consider it. And this was HER baby boy too. I didn’t want to take that away from her, so I just let it go.
I had already had a disagreement with her about the day of the service. I needed MY family there. Thankfully, his niece helped make her understand. I will forever be grateful for that. I don’t think I could have done it without them there.
We made the service cards ourselves (Paige and her friends) because they were so expensive, we drove ourselves to the cemetery. His niece (the same one he called his sister) had an extra plot at the cemetery, so she gave it to him. I was just going through the motions, like a robot.
We picked out what he would wear, and the kids picked out one song each. Everything else was his mom. She found someone to speak but I was surprised her church didn’t have a meal for the family. EVERY other family service I had been to,
