Nothing was getting easy

My last post was about my court hearing well a very shocking event took place instead of that court hearing, I have another blog on myspace www.myspace.com/stephaniepick if you are interested. I have found that I need to keep two separate blogs going because there is so much to write about my present that it starts to get confusing even to me to mix them up. So I'm heading back to my past again.

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Life was not really getting back to normal there was no trust left in the marriage and no matter how many band aids we tried to put on the problems they just were not going away.
Bob's temper was always short and I simply focused on keeping the peace if I could, I was simply too tired to fight.
I found myself keeping a filled overnight bag in my car for those moments when he would follow me around from room to room just trying to argue. We argued about everything it seemed now.
Here I was raising our son, taking care of him, the house, all the bills, etc. while he was going to one meeting a day. That was it. Now his sobriety was important, don't get me wrong, but our life wasn't the same.
I no longer believed that all this isolation was going to keep him sober and I was right, it didn't. But along with that knowledge I was also not willing to be the submissive wive. There no longer was a reason too. Now when he was out of control I simply walked out of the door into my car and drove off. I would not tolerate it ever again.
We were all in foreign waters believe me.
Then one day the focus became the Internet of all things. I guess Bob just needed something to be mad about so he started getting at Matt for being on his computer.
Little did Bob know that it was the one escape from our nightmare that his son could retreat from without getting into any trouble. Bob viewed it as a fantasy world and never really understood that there were real people behind those names. Only in the end did he sort of get it when he himself signed up on myspace. He never told me I logged into my blog and found his profile as one of my readers. He got it, but he was spying on me. I wasn't doing anything but he had wondered.

One day he was screaming so loud I had locked myself into the bathroom and would not come out. I could not deal with his temper. I guess several of the neighbors heard him and came over. They told him if he didn't stop they were going to call the Police. I think it must have scarred him because when I heard them, I unlocked the door and bolted to my car. He did not follow.
We were living in hell and didn't even know it. It was the beginning of the Valium Years as I like to refer to them. Dangerous drug in my opinion. You simply never know when they are taking it, and at the time I did not know how addicted to it he had become and would always be. It was his new drug of choice for a long time.

How Bob got around taking any kind of pills were his real history of back and knee problems. There is no law against taking these pills especially when you have legitimate physical issues. He started having multiple surgeries on his knees, then it was a terrible hemorrhoid operation that went wrong for him.
He had been completely honest with the Doctor about his past history with pills and I must say this was the first and only doctor in all the years of living with Bob, that he could not get pills out of. The doctor gave him a few pain pills and only two Valium. Bob wanted more Percocette and a bottle of Valium. The doctor would not give them to him.

I will never forget our next nightmare. It was Labor Day weekend and in Malibu there is an annual Chili Cook off that we always went to with our son. It had a carnival and always was a great way to end the Summer. There was literally nothing more I could do to help Bob. He had to take it easy and was just laying in Bed, so I told him I was going to take Matt to the carnival for a while.
This is normal in any family. It was not a life threatening surgery and anyone will tell you, it is painful and uncomfortable. But there was no reason to sit there and wait on him hand and foot all day. I took Matt out to have some fun.

When we got back home all hell broke loose. He was crazy, screaming at me about how I was neglecting him and whatever else he was spewing out. It was another nightmare day with Bob on pills.
It's funny as I write this stuff that I actually realize just how much damage all these events left on my brain. I was always trying to protect myself from his outrageous theory's about what was real and what was not. You would have thought I committed an act of violence against him by leaving the house for two hours. It was insanity. That is the only way to explain any of this. Pill induced insanity.
When I spoke with his brother even he said that Bob could not be given Percocette.
This stuff went right to his brain and made him crazy.
I really don't know if he was in any sort of drug withdrawal from Valium at the time, but I do know looking back at this event it seems like it now. He made me drive him down to the doctor's office to get more of them and when he only gave him two I thought he was going to go out of his skin. It's how it affected him when I knew he was in withdrawal.
Bob had become really good at getting Valium and he had several doctors all over town that were prescribing different things for him. He simply knew how to work the system. This doctor must have had a feeling that he didn't want to be another one of Bob's pill pushers. I wish I could say that about all his other doctors.
They just gave him whatever he wanted because he was so nice to them. Little did they know how not so nice he was when he needed more of them. In the beginning even I didn't know what it was.
I used to blame everything on "dry drunks". The behavior was so erratic I will never really know for sure.
These next several years seem to blend in together. Separate vacations arguments about everything from his father to his daughter and everything in between.
The worst part of all this insanity was that I had promised our son that I would not divorce his father. I kept my word, but at times it was the hardest promise I had ever had to keep.
Nothing was easy. If we needed help with a homework project it would turn into a lecture. One that neither Matt nor I had any interest in let alone the time.
He never understood time management when it came to homework, bath and bedtime. To him we were his captive audience at times.


One of the nastiest unwarranted fights we ever had was when I was writing out our monthly bills as I always did and he decided to come into Matt's room and supervise. I have no idea what he was really mad at, but it turned so ugly and so nasty that I almost left him forever right then and there.
He started criticizing my family for no reason and then he ended it by telling Matt all these horrible made up stories about me. Can you imagine my poor son sitting there having to listen to his dad spewing hatred toward his mother? None of which was true, but he either wanted a drink or a pill. That's how it always started.
Pick a terrible unforgivable fight so that he could justify drinking or using.
The three of us were living in hell, yet there seemed no escape.
I couldn't even pray, I felt that God had abandoned me and I was angry. For all the years and times I had saved this man's life, and given him such a good life, this is how he repaid me. It did not matter that when he calmed down he would send me flowers or buy me something nice. I started refusing all gifts. I did not want to be bought like so many women I know. I simply did not have it in me to turn the other cheek for a diamond ring.
Over the years living in Malibu you hear of these stories of women who stick it out all because of their security. They don't love their husbands at all, I see it all the time. That was one hell of a price I did not want to pay. If it had not been for my promise to our son to not get a divorce, who knows how our lives would have ended up.
Perhaps had I had the courage to leave earlier, maybe he would never have met the "girlfriend". We will never know.

Imagine your family turning their backs on you

I am in the middle of another very difficult time for me. In three days I have to go to court to finalize my divorce. It is two and a half years since my former husband passed away and I have been in the probate courts ever since then. It will also be his birthday on October 27th four days after this divorce proceeding.
I am really getting a divorce from his daughter and now I guess the rest of the small family.

Now everyone knows that Death and Divorce are right up there on the stress charts as the highest stress producing events in a persons life, along with moving.
Well I have been grieving for the past two and a half years, have been dealing with probate and a divorce and I am moving. At times even I don't know how I have made it this far.

So I wrote to my former Mother in Law to see if she would like me to return a coffee table that was orignially hers, but ended up in my husbands house when his father died. Of course I am happy to return it to her and a few emails passed back and forth regarding the table.
Since she was the only one in the family left besides my son who I can discuss these things with, I sent her an email pouring my heart out about the upcoming divorce and Bob's birthday.
What I got in return was an email asking me to measure the table so that her handiman could pick it up. Nothing else. I have to say, that really upset me. Here I am pouring my guts out about my life, my feelings and all she wanted was the damn table.

This correspondence is exactly the evidence that I needed to remind myself that it is not my imagination, because sometimes I think I am being over sensitive when I feel like they just let me go, turned their back on me. Well they have.

I did not respond to her email for fear that I would say something harsh because I'm angry about the lack of concern and the way my situation ended. After a twenty year marriage, I got all the bills, half my house and $25,000 to pay off the legal bills. Another words, the left my son holding the bag on my debt, because if I loose my house so does he. Everything I have is his and at his age he should not have to bear the burden of his father's debts, especially when there was enough money to pay off half the mortgage, that was all I asked for. Because we bought a home and for years he refinanced it to pay his taxes and pay for the education of the kids.
The executor, his daughter, managed to just have the court negate that fact.

So yes I am angry and shocked, my I am not the only one, there are many people who know my family in Hollywood, because it was a very prominent family here in LA. So I didn't answer her email I simply waited to see what she would have to say in regards to me pouring my heart out to her.

I got another email regarding the table.

Well this time I couldn't help but reply with my feelings laid out. So this is what I wrote to her. These are word for word, copied and pasted below.
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I'm so sorry but I don't have a measuring tape, but I personally brought it over here in the back of my Lexus SUV from the Rambla Vista house so I know it will fit in a small SUV. You mentioned your handyman and if he has a truck it will fit just fine.

Sorry I didn't get back to you. I pretty much have been dreading next week Tuesday so much that I sent Marisa an email asking her to tell her lawyer to be nice. I don't want a repeat of the last court date and this time it will be just Matt and me in court plus I signed everything over to her over a year and a half ago That is all except the watches which Matt has not me. I'm hoping that doesn't come up. It is very traumatic because this is a divorce from her really not Bernie, he's gone.

You may have already heard about that, but I also told her to visit her father's grave and beg his forgiveness for putting Matt in such a terrible position. If I go down, he goes down with me. It's all on his shoulders now.

This is a very small town and his new investment people are simply shocked by this entire outcome after a long term marriage. All I asked for was help with the mortgage now I will never live here again because she simply refused to do the right thing.
Although I know you don't want to hear any of this either, I apologize for laying it on you. But it doesn't matter about the trust from Saul it still won't help with the mortgage So the only way to save Matt from the burden of losing his house is to move out of it.

Marisa has simply tarnished the family name. All these high power people in Town just adored Saul and I wasn't there but Matt told her my situation and she wants to meet me for lunch, she seems to think maybe she can help me even though I told her I have no money to invest. It was simply refreshing to know that I am not the only one that thinks this was so legally unfair. It's simply not OK to punish Matt because I have a Trust from Saul. So does Marisa and Matt. Bob's debt was Bob's debt. Even you don't understand the severity of the burden on him.

And I must say it's interesting that you can simply ignore any of this which I mentioned before but be so concerned about your table.

What a fascinating family.

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This is what she wrote back


STEPH,
I AM SORRY THAT YOU FEEL THE WAY YOU DO!! I DO NOT KNOW THE LEGAL DETAILS RE; THIS AND DO NOT FEEL THAT IT IS MY BUSINESS!! I ALSO DO NOT HAVE THE $$ TO HELP!! NO ONE IS SADDER THAT THE FAMILY IS SPLIT! I ADORE SAUL AND ALWAYS WILL. I TRIED TO HELP FOR AWHILE TO NO AVAIL AND SO, HAVE WITHDRAWN TOTALLY. I STILL CRY DAILY FOR THE LOSS OF MY LOVE AND CANNOT DEAL WITH THE RE-HASH OF THIS DRAMA!!

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Well that just set me off. This is exactly what I have been talking about on my myspace blog. I have a cold family that only cares about themselves. My reply
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I totally understand, but that's exactly the attitude that allows people to get away with bad things. Just think of all the boy scouts, alter boys, etc., that could have been helped if someone had just taken the time to speak out.
Silence is as bad doing the deed itself.

I have had to deal with my loss, my divorce and helping Matt and myself through our grief without the family. So why the hell would I want to deal with the family two and a half years later. No one cared and still don't and that is the sad fact not fiction.

I do feel your pain, I miss Saul as much as anyone because none of what has happened to me and subsequently to Matt if he were still with us. He was the glue that bound us all together. Marisa would have never had the guts to do what she did, but everyone just kept quiet.

I may have told you a saw a psychic and there he was right there with Bob. I didn't even say anything to this person, I went in to find out if I was ever going to get out of all this debt. It was quite healing. Bob kept saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I sat there stunned and crying. It was surreal. So even if the family has turned their back on me, my beloved Bob and Saul have not. It gets me through my life believe me.

So if you like you can just have someone pick up your table and I will not speak to you again, because it's my life and if you don't want to hear it I will respect that.

By the way, this is not a ReHash. I am living it. I go to court on Tuesday and people are calling me to discuss my life. People who are stunned that my beloved family turned their backs and a blind eye to my situation.
You have a way of trying to diminish things just because you don't want to hear them. Is Bob's birthday drama?

I really feel sorry for all of you.
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So there is the story of my family's attitude toward me. Lack of concern.

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Indecission

What is it that makes me want to avoid writing the rest of my story some days.  I will write things on my myspace blog?  I guess that this is a painful journey some days and this month is extremely difficult.

I will be going to court to finalize a bogus divorce proceeding.  What I mean by that is this.  The court needs me to once again, verify that I have indeed given up my debtor's claim against the estate  of my former husband.  And yes the answer is I did drop my claim against the estate.

 

I did it because I will not waste any more money fighting a battle that should have never been fought in the first place. If the executor has no conscience about leaving me with all the debt of putting her and my son through school so be it. The entire family knows that I didn't spend all the debt of frivolous things.But all I get from the family these days is Silence. We helped but her through Stanford, helped with her living expenses while in New York and at Johns Hopkins even when her father was not legally obligated to do so any longer. And believe me there were times when he had to think twice because she was so cruel to him. But even after she called me and her friends wishing him dead he simply could not cut her off financially.
The other really difficult event is that it is Bob's birthday at the end of that same week, so it is with a very heavy heart that I finalize that chapter of my life. My former husband would have never argued the fact that for years he kept refinancing our home to give the two kids a great college education and the rest went to pay taxes most of the time.  He would tell me that it was his job to worry about money and my job to basically do everything else around the house.  So I did.

 

It was important to both of us to make sure that our son got a great education as well as his daughter. It was important to the entire family or so I thought. But education does not come cheap, it has a very hight price tag attached to it. So do taxes. We paid out so much to the government that many times we had to use the house to pay them. And so it was.

And in the end after the marriage had ended, Bob started a new business and he refinanced our house again and when he found himself in trouble with the law, he refinanced it once again to purchase a home. What was once a home purchased for $725,000 in the end ballooned up to over $1,400.000. That is the simple fact of Bob's way of supporting his family, and no one wants to address who is responsible for that debt.
The Estate had no difficulty establishing that I was not entitled to any of Bob's inheritance, why am I entitled to carry the burden of the debt?
Once could argue that I have the option of selling the home. Of course I do, but I will not, because my son's father gave him half of the house and I will not loose it for him. As my father Saul would have said, "It is his Life Insurance Policy". I couldn't agree more. When my time on this earth are done, I will leave my son more than he could have imagined. It is my duty to the only male grandchild of my hero. He will carry on the name and the dignity of his Grandfather.

In my opinion there is no justice when a wife of almost twenty years now has a title of debtor attached to her claim. Just because a person passed away, did all my rights as his wife vanish before my very eyes. In my case Yes. It seems an executor can pretty much disclaim a debt at their discretion with the help of an attorney.  His daughter had no interest in paying off his debt and I had no interest in paying an attorney for the privilege of lessening the remainder of what was left after the government gets their part because my X simply did not bother to put everything in Trust. The executor has spent more money than I did securaing this final divorce, isn't that incredible. And she really didn't want to honor the agreement I had with her dad, that he would cover the cost of the divorce, after all it was his and his girlfriends idea to file for it in the first place. It was the least he could do.  So that's that. 

I didn't marry him for money and I guess I don't see the need to squander money to do the right thing. 

I will find a way to keep the house for our son and I still feel grateful for my life.

 

Money doesn't always make a person happy and it remains to be seen how much of what is being given to his daughter will grow into a future for her as she dreamed.  Her lifestyle is too expensive.  A Beverly Hills girl trying to live the life of her Mom.  Expensive vacations she has been to Europe three times already since her father passed away and may even be there as I write this because it is her three year wedding anniversary. She loves expensive dinners, shoes,clothes etc. I used to get annoyed with her because everything she ever bought had to have a designer label attached to it.  The only thing that may save her is her wonderful husband who happens to be from the Midwest.  Time will tell, the poor guy is working his butt off to keep up with the Jones's over there.

 

 

Unfortunately for her, if she ever does have any children of her own, I will not be there to help her with any of the stuff that I would have. Let her other family do that, but that's also questionable, because even she would say that her father and I got her everything she really wanted, her Mom got her the necessities. PJ's, underwear and things.
Now that I have gotten that off my chest, perhaps I can get back to my story.

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Off To New York

After Graduation Bob's daughter got a job as a paralegal at a very large law firm in New York.
Well, it may have been a big law firm but the salary was not big.
Once again it was time for Daddy to dig into his wallet and cover "Half".

Since it seemed like the worst part of the past year was coming to an end because of the car incident and graduation. We had high hopes that Bob and Maria's relationship would start to get better after all at least they were speaking.

What were they speaking about? First they were speaking about the cost of her moving to New York, she told her dad that her Mom would meet whatever he gave her, I can honestly say I never believed that and neither did he.
He was giving her $3,000 a month and she was earning a salary. Plus she was not living alone, she was sharing an apartment with her best friend from high school. I doubt that she was getting $6,000 a month plus a salary. She may have gotten the credit card back also, I really can't remember if she did or not.

She also needed furniture of course and I do think her Mom helped her with that.
That was always the conversations, What did Marisa need this time.
It really bothered him. She tried to make it sound like she was calling to say hi, but each phone call always ended with her wanting something from him as he would say.
"I'm just a human credit card to her."

After she hung up he would sit on the sofa in our room and smoke and think. You could actually watch him replay the conversations in his head. His lips would move and he would be deep into it. If you said anything to him it was like he couldn't even hear you that's how lost in his thoughts he was.
He was really wounded on all levels.

Our family, that is the three of us, were still struggling to regain the trust that had been lost with Bob's journey back to drinking. His moods were all over the place for over a year. I later found out that it took him over an entire year for the Valium to actually leave his body.
It has what's known as an after life and it lodges into your bone tissue. Bob was on edge, always hot, like in a drug withdrawal, which he was, and just plain tense most of the time.

As hard as it was we were trying to get back to our normal family routines.
We were pretty busy with our lives and it seemed easy to not dwell on Marisa being gone because the truth be told she hadn't wanted to participate in our lives for so many years that it wasn't an issue. She had become more like a guest, that's how seldom we saw her.

I can't remember what time of year it was but one night Marisa picked up Matt and he spent the night at her house. It was so odd. I guess Marisa wanted to hang out with him but she didn't want to stay here. I'm not sure if it was because Matt wasn't home or the fact that Bob was hurt that Marisa didn't want to stay here he was just up smoking all night.

He had developed a pretty severe insomnia problem and I just used to got to sleep and not really hear him watching TV or getting up walking around or whatever.
But this night all of a sudden the house alarm was shrieking in my ears.
Bob had set the bed on fire.
Imagine how terrified I was to wake up to smoke the alarm blaring and Bob was just too shocked to really function.
We had a fire extinguisher right by the fireplace in our room and he couldn't get it to work.

The flames were on the carpet and jumped to the frame of the bed. I hopped out of bed and threw a bottle of water on it. It woke him up from his inability to think of what to do. I just kept refilling a glass of water and so did he and we didn't have to get the fire department, thank God.

It should have been a real wake up call for him, but what it turned out to be was the beginning of Bob burning holes in every set of sheets, the sofa, leather chairs everything he sat on.
He would fall asleep and burn his fingers. It was so scary.

He was a man who was just broken really. Trying to put up a brave front for everyone including himself. I look back and the loss of his sobriety took away more from him than those years. It seemed to rob him of any sense of direction or self esteem.
His temper grew shorter and shorter. He was so conflicted and probably always wanting to pick up a drink. By this time he had logged in twelve months without a drink but the doctors were still giving him medication for his back and knees. The only thing I Think he wasn't taking was Valium.

I must say having physical problems and trying to be clean and sober didn't really seem to work. If he was in pain and didn't have anything to take it away, he was always on a dry drunk. If he had the medication and wasn't in so much pain he was closer to drinking because he wasn't drug free. It was a real roller coaster ride for all of us emotionally.

The year that Marisa went to New York she started seeing a therapist. How New York of her, it seemed that everyone in New York had one and we agreed it was a good idea too. After all that she had been through and put her dad through.
So on Matt's spring break we headed off to New York so that Bob could have a session together with Marisa and her doctor.

Talk about being apprehensive, Bob put on a good show for her but with Matt and I it was a totally different story.
From the moment we arrived at our Hotel everything started going wrong. We always got two rooms because Matt couldn't be around all the smoke with his asthma and of course we couldn't expect Bob to not chain smoke, it pretty much was his only vice these days and he really needed to smoke that weekend.

When we checked in they told us that they did not have the adjoining rooms that we requested. Bob made such a big scene in the lobby that they ended up giving up a one bedroom suite with the most amazing view of the Chrysler building
Of course Bob had to sleep in the living room on a bed they brought up for him so that he could smoke near the window.
The three of us had a nice first night together alone without Marisa and she joined us the next day. She brought over a birthday cake she made for Matt which was so sweet and we all seemed really happy to be together.
The next day several friends of Matt's and their families joined us at the best ice=cream parlour in the world "Serendipity". After that the three of us went to the Sony store and we just window shopped most of the day and of course did manage to get Matt some very cool Birthday gifts.
The day was getting closer for Bob and his daughter to see her doctor. I can't really remember what came first the session or the new Rolex watch he bought her. That was his way. He wanted to get her something special for her graduation, but she had wanted furniture instead, so he got her the watch in New York so she could pick it out. She had really become hard to surprise with presents because unless she liked it she would take it back or give it back.

The only thing that I will never forget is what happened when Bob got back to the hotel after their appointment.
He told me that even her doctor asked her when she was going to forgive him. After all, he did not divorce her, he divorced her Mother. Her answer was always the same, that's not fair.
She had no intention of ever forgiving him for anything. Even things he didn't do to her.
He explained to me that there are some cases where a person can't seem to bear to look at the two parents equally. One is always right and one is always wrong. It was tragic, but it was right on the money. Everything he did seemed to bother her. Whether she was aware of it or not. She treated him like she was the parent. Always criticizing him for something. The way he held his fork, the way he chewed his dinner, they way that he loved to spot famous people etc. It just went on and on.
He was so flawed in her mind. I wonder how she got that judgemental? Especially because everyone always praised her. We had nothing but kind things to say to her about her always. But she couldn't seem to return the sentiment.

One of the things I struggle with always is how I could have been stronger and maybe a better "parent" to her. I felt constrained to me role and I didn't cross that line. Imagine twenty years of just "Watching" a child change right before your eyes and not really be able to do anything about it.
Now it's way too late.

The first time I had had enough of just letting her get away with really bad behaviour was over the phone.
She called us up and wanted to know if we would cover the cost of a gym in New York she wanted to join. As usual the answer was of course Marisa, your dad will pay for it. First of all, he wanted her to go to the gym of her choice. She had always struggled with her weight and the fact that she was working out was great.

Well I got the shock of my life when I spoke to her next. She called me back and said and I quote. "I talked to my Mom, and she said it's ridiculous". I told her that she had called us and asked for the money and she said. "Well, it was a test and he failed"

I went crazy inside and for the first time in twenty years I yelled and swore at her.
I told her "If you don't love him, then leave him the fuck alone." I think I hung up on her. It was very traumatic for me I don't really know how she took it because she had become so cold and calculating towards him. But she couldn't fool me. I knew she hated him from the moment she wanted to leave him in Paris. I could only pretend to let it go for so long. She was out of line and there wasn't anyone who was doing anything about it.

I had had it. I was sick and tired of having his spoiled ungrateful daughter ruining our lives. Everytime she pulled something like this on him it came back to haunt me and Matt. It would put him into such a frame of mind that all he would want to do now was drink.

I would never look at her the same way ever again. I didn't fight with her, but I knew who she was and that is not a good place to be in when you are trying to keep peace in a family already in trouble.

I told her father. I would no longer cover up for her and be a part of her duplicity. I would no longer be a part of the problem. There were bigger issues that I was dealing with. I had chosen my alligeince and it was to him not her. She just wanted his money, I wanted him to get well and live.

Graduation from Stanford

Well, his daughter's graduation from Stanford was monumental for so many reasons.
First of all she gave us all hell when she got in and now she was thrilled to be graduating from such an amazing University.

The weekend started out great. The entire family went to San Francisco to celebrate her achievement.
There was so much tension in the air that weekend and I'm sure no one will ever forget how uncomfortable it got.

We met his daughter in Palo Alto for brunch because she was having dinner with her other family members. Bob always felt slighted but after a year of her not speaking with him, he was having a bit of trouble keeping his anger under control.
This time he lashed out at my mother in law at brunch.
She just happened to be the only one who ordered anything alcoholic to drink and that set Bob off more than she could have ever imagined.
He simply could not tolerate people drinking in front of him early in the day for some reason. He used it against her.
We were discussing how difficult it was to get into Stanford and she mentioned that her nephew did not get accepted, even with my Father in Law's generous donations. She went on to say that Saul should never contribute to Stanford again, because she thought it was so unfair.

Well, Bob just unloaded on her. He started telling her to stay out of it because we still had Matt to think about, at that time we all thought that he wanted to go there like the rest of the family.
I don't know how she didn't burst into tears right at the table. I was so shocked because even though I was used to him going off at me about anything, he had never raised his voice to her ever.
Once again, his father took control of the situation and calmed him down, at least on the outside. He was still fuming on the inside. It was the day before his daughters' graduation and I'm sure he just wanted to unload on everyone in the family who condoned his daughter not speaking to him for that year.
He had to come face to face with her Mom, and her other family members.

Actually, looking back I don't know how he kept it as together as he did. He was a great actor. He had a lot of anger and resentment just locked inside of him and it was being squeezed out a little at a time. Oozing out of his pours. So that trip my mother in law got to experience first hand what I had sort of become amune to.
I guess I just became tough. It rolled off my shoulders most of the time unless the insults just got too ugly.

She was lucky that he didn't go on about her drinking in the morning to her face like he just kept going on to me about.
Actually it was such a big deal in his head that when we returned home, I had to explain to his brother why he felt that way about her drinking.
He resented the fact that she was his father's designated driver, who drinks in the morning and on and on.
Well I must say, he certainly was an expert of drinking. After 30 rehabs he sure had enough of an education to spot a normal drinking pattern from one that was excessive and he didn't really buy the old wine is good for the heart thing.
He resented that his father was now opening a bottle of wine for dinner every night because he never did that when his Mom was alive.

I could not argue with him on that point. I never met his Mom, but from all the stories I have listened to over the years I don't think there ever could have been anyone to fill those shoes in his eyes. Especially his dad's second wife.
In her defense, she tried to be kind to all of us, but we were always aware that he made her uncomfortable when he was around and we were never really invited to just drop in for dinner. It had to be an occasion for that to happen.
He also resented his old room being used as a guest room for her family and friends.
He couldn't seem to let it go.

All I know is that there was no reasoning with him about any of this. They were his feelings and I couldn't change them. At best I could try and shorten the monologues that I was forced to listen to and try my best not to make him more angry with my opinions.

Life could be so happy and carefree, until he started thinking about his family. Then Matt and I would pay the price.

He was starting to just sit on the sofa in our room smoking and running all these old tapes in his head letting his resentments grow.
Finally he just stopped talking about it as much.
He would just sit, smoke and talk to himself quietly. Sometimes I would walk into the room and watch him have a conversation with himself. He wasn't speaking out loud, but his lips were moving. It was very odd.

Looking back, this was a man in trouble and I sure didn't know how to help him. What can you do for a man who has been to all the best hospitals, had years of meetings, rejected all the physiologists and did not really respect anyone in the program. All I could do at times was tolerate him and other times just leave the house for a while when his temper got too out of control.

I really did feel sorry for him at times and at other times I was just angry with him. He was brilliant, why couldn't he just let go of wanting to drink? Even though he wasn't drinking, he was still consumed with thinking of alcohol.
Judging everyone who did drink. I was so grateful that I was never a drinker or I can only imagine what hell my days would have been like.

We started making plans to move up to Northern California to send Matt to a private school up there. It was almost the breath of fresh air everyone needed.

We started spending time in the Bay Area with Bob's best friend Bill. They were like brothers. They had been high school and college roommates and buddies. They had been through a lot together.

I really loved Bill and his family. I always felt safe around them because Bob was on his best behaviour around them.
The only thing was that Bob had not told Bill that he had had a major slip a couple of years before that.
He was really ashamed of it and he did not want the fact that he didn't have that continuous long term sobriety to affect our sons chances of getting in to his old school. At the time, I really didn't think there was any reason to tell his friend.
After all, it was not really my place to do so. If he wanted Bill to know he would have to be the one to confide in him.

We wanted Matt to like the Bay Area so much. We took him to San Francisco quite a bit and he started loving "Japan Town" and the city. He loved the tall buildings and the hip urban environment. Not to mention that he started collecting Japanese animation and videos and every time we went to the city he came home with a stash of new movies.

Finally one day we got the good news letter. Matt did indeed get accepted into Menlo. I was so thrilled for all of us. I was counting on this being a solid new beginning in our lives and with the support of his best friend and his family I thought the move would be flawless.

My nephew came to visit and we took him with us to San Francisco to look for a house to lease for the four years we had to be up there. All in all it was an amazing weekend for all.
Because I had lived there for so many years I knew the city like the back of my hand.
We never got lost and I drove all over the place.
It really was a new world.
We just happened to be in town for Gay Pride Week and Matt and Paul got a new kind of education. Paul came from Wisconsin and we were from Malibu, so it was quite a different celebration for the both of them.
I just remember having so many laughs that entire weekend. My hopes for the future were at an all time high. I had never embraced a new beginning quite as enthusiastically as I did that move.

I was really tired of being caged in up here in Malibu. Malibu had lost it's charm for me the day Bob picked up his first drink. I was constantly complaining about it. I felt I was living in a retirement community and didn't bother to hide my opinion about it. I used to say that Malibu was a place people came to to die. It seemed that people here stopped living in a way. The friends I had never went into LA to see the theatre, Opera or any of the things I wanted to do. It had also happened to Bob. All he wanted to do was go to the movies and then he would just fall asleep in them. I was bored to tears. The only thing I loved about the place was our house. The town's charm had long ago lost it magic for me.

Therapy

One day shortly after returning from that trip, I got Marisa, Matt and myself into family therapy. I think many professionals would agree that was a very wise choice.
I called a local woman who specialized in addiction in the family, or so she said.

It was a MISTAKE. I'm not sure if it's because she was in Malibu, and believe me I have spoken to more than one professional in the field who have told me that many doctors would not consider setting up a practice here because of the calibre of help given by the local doctors, etc.

Well, I hadn't realized that at the time, I just wanted to heal the family the only way I knew how. I went alone and several times I took the two kids.
The advice that I was given was the beginning of the end of my happy marriage.

This woman who was my first therapist, was telling me what to do. Something I later learned is not done. I was so desperate to "fix" the situation at home that I listened to everything she told me to do. Including leaving Bob at home and going on our planned vacation to Hawaii without him.

At the time, she told me it was the only way to assert myself and it would be a lesson for him that he could no longer rage against me verbally, which was happening a lot since his relapse. Bottom line is all roads were leading to the end of the marriage.

Looking back it seemed ridiculous because neither one of us were planning on ending the marriage at that time. We loved each other, but couldn't tolerate the behaviour.
Quite a conundrum to put it mildly. It was almost like my therapist wanted to break up the marriage. She did nothing that I can recall to help me save it.

After a few short visits Matt refused to go back to see her and so did Marisa. We never did get any help as a family, or help as individuals for that matter. It just made things harder at home.

I just terminated the sessions and was left to try and pick up the pieces myself.

What does a family do when there are addiction problems? Everyone agrees that it is not easy to be married or in a relationship with a practicing addict, but here we were once more, Bob wasn't drinking, he was just so angry all the time.

It was the year that Bob and I started fighting more and more about his daughter, which had become a really hot topic of conversation from this point up until the end.

He would go on and on about her and how he felt used. He could say whatever and all I could do was just listen, because if I said one thing he didn't like, he would turn the fight on me. I wasn't used to fighting about his daughter, we always got along great. For all the years she didn't want to come to our house I could always manage something to say to put the fire out in his head. I could no longer do that.
The truth was starring him in the face.

She would not speak to him, the family condoned it, and he was still giving her money through his father. The resentments were mounting, and I can't say I didn't agree.

I must say, if my child did to me what she did to him I would have stopped paying her tuition and let her mother deal with it. But once again Bob was always filled with guilt. He didn't know how to stick up for what was right because of it.
She simply got her cake and she got to eat it too.

That year was the ultimate slap in his face, he was never comfortable with confronting Marisa or her mother, who actually was quite happy to encourage the bad behavior of Marisa, that was until just about one year into the silence that Marisa had a car fire after installing a new radio in her car.

Now she finally needed something from her father bad enough to finally give him a call. Bob was so happy to talk to her he welcomed the fact that she was only calling because she needed something from him.

Her car was totaled and he was the registered owner. The insurance money was going to be sent to him. I guess she didn't hate him enough not to need the money for a new car. Her mom would put in half for the new car and if he agreed to give her back the insurance money that would buy her a new Jeep. As usual he told her of course. What he told me was a totally different story.

Once again I got the brunt of his true feelings. He was pretty disgusted with her and her mom hitting him up for the money. After all, didn't Marisa tell us all that her Mom was going to take care of everything for her and she didn't need him any longer? And on and on and on. He was always treated that way. Once she even told us that we got her all the cool stuff and her Mom would buy her the basics, pajama's underwear stuff like that.
I have a feeling that year was hard for her without that credit card of his soon after that she got the use of it back. Some things never change.
She was speaking to him again and using his money again. Funny how that worked out.
A pattern that never ended.

Birthday Lunch

To say that coming home was a very difficult time would be an understatement.
I was simply devestated by all that had gone on between Bob and Marisa and Bob and I.

I felt so sad that Marisa and Bob were totally estranged from one another. I decided that I did not want to celbrate my birthday that year. It didn't feel like anything that I wanted to do. It was a very sad time for us all. I guess I never really understood the resentment that Marisa had for her father. I really thought she loved him so much. I remembered her as a loving little girl who just adored her Daddy.

Of course time had gone by and things do change, but never did his love, adoration or support for her ever faulter, so I didn't see this coming.

Getting together with our family was always the best of times. This year would be more than difficult so I just told the family I wasn't going to celebrate and I didn't.

I did go to lunch with Marisa alone to celebrate my birthday. I really wanted to remain close to her inspite of everything that was going on. At this point I had no harsh feeling toward her I sympathized with her. Loosing the love of your parent is a very big deal in one's life and to actually bring this upon yourself is an entirely different matter. He still loved her and would have gotten over everything in a heartbeat, she would be the one who would be difficult to sway. I was hoping beyond hope that I could be the Peacemaker between them. I would learn that wasn't going to happen at least not at this lunch.

At that lunch we talked about everything that had happened in Paris of course, but the one thing that stands out in my mind just as clear as the day she uttered it were the following words.

In the middle of discussing everything Marisa uttered "I'm cold like Bonnie".
I managed to keep my mouth shut but inside I was shocked. I never forgot that because I went back home and told Bob.
I was literally crying because that was the most tragic statement I had ever heard come out of a brilliant young girl.

Here was a girl I admired more than anyone. I actually looked up to her. I admired how she worked hard at School got into Stanford, even if it wasn't her first choice, I was impressed. I had always been so proud of her and was willing to overlook the entire episode of wanting to leave her dad in Paris because emotions were running high and I thought we would all heal sooner than later.

But the sad reality was that she had no intention of ever speaking to him, at least not for a long time. I thought it would blow over, but I knew it wasn't going too.

Something always happened to me when anyone was upset with Bob, I always defended him because I believed in him so much.
I had no influence over his daughter. It was never more clear that from the point of her return home all her decisions were going to be talked over with her Mom and probably her other family members. There wasn't going to be forgivness going on.
Her Mom wasn't going to pay for everything as Marisa had imagined, but she did contact Bob's father for his half and now Marisa had no reason to talk to him at all.
Bob's dad would give her mom a check every month and Bob would reimburse him.
I guess it was always about the money.
Even though Marisa was over 18 and he legally didn't have to support her at all, especially if she didn't want to deal with him. He couldn't not support her as he had always done.
His father was trying to make things better by pretending that the money was coming from him, but it only made the distance between Bob and his daughter broader.

I went home and really felt very sorry for Bob, I started to cry as I told him about my conversation with Marisa at lunch. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we all better get into therapy and fast. This was not good. Marisa was being incouraged to ingore her dad, but take the money.

I called the pyscologist.

Shattered Delusions

For years I had clung to the delusion that as long as Bob didn't pick up a drink we would be fine. No matter what, I would be able to forgive and forget. Acutally that worked for many many years. It worked so well that little by little I started to loose the respect of Bob and I think Matt. I never wanted to "Rock the Sobriety Boat"
But like the "butterfly effect" one day a harsh word from his father changed our reality forever. I didn't have anything to do with the changes that were about to happen. I was caught in the eye of his storm and I didn't have a life raft I had a veil of delusion. I guess it's really called denial.

Mind you, my delusions of our peaceful harmonious life where thinly veiled. I wanted to have the perfect little family and for many years everyone who knew us thought that was exactly what we were. Even a few years before Bob had gone crazy when a Pain Management Doctor had taken him off of Valium "Cold Turkey" no less, he wasn't drinking, even though he was totally crazy coming off of it.
He was tipping over the kitchen table acting insane and many hours into a fight, he started taunting me with unacceptable insults. I had hauled off and whacked him in the face.

I had no idea I was so strong. I had been taking self defense classes privately from one of the women at our karate studio and I guess I had learned well. I scarred myself. I vowed I would never raise hand to anyone again. After all, I had be slapped around enough by Bob in the early years. I was ashamed of myself and totally baffled how strong emotions can make a person loose all sense of control. I knew where he had come from back them.
But Bob was not drinking. All was forgiven.

Covered by a now thread bear cover of hope more than reality one day after we returned home from Europe I woke up and our lives were altered forever.

I'm always speaking of having a mirror put up in front of a person and that morning my mirror was 10 feet tall. I could not change the facts of what had happened nor the reality that I wasn't ever going to get over it.

First of all I was totally jet lagged we arrived back from London and it was around noon our time. I went directly to Bed when I got home, I didn't go to our room because Bob was in there smoking and pacing.
I needed some rest and escapism more than anything. Matt also went to sleep so Bob was on his own.

I got up the next morning went down to the kitchen as usual and made myself a cup of cappuccino with really hot steamed milk. Bob was up early which was a sign that he had probably not slept much or at all. His insomnia was raging.
I had become very comfortable with having at least an hour or so to myself every morning without the drama of Bob which recently had become an art to deal with.
I did keep in mind that he was also devestated by drinking after all those years and I tried to keep his feelings in perspective. I wanted to believe he could get over this slip and get back to another fourteen years without a drink. I really wanted to believe that he could do it. After Europe I really wasn't sure about anything. I had seen the Bob I had run from many years ago "reborn". It scarred me beyond belief. In my life the only thing that really terrified me was Bob actively drinking or on a dry drunk just about to take that drink.

That's were I found myself that morning. In the Twilight Zone. My past was shattered and my future hanging by a thread.

The first words out of Bob's mouth were derogatory and accusing. He started to blame everything that happened in Paris on me. He started talking about Meagan and how beautiful she was. How she could have been another Sharon Stone. I literally saw red.
Much like the night I hit him, I do not remember what he was still yelling at me, all I remember is not wanting to go back to place of violence and before I knew what I was doing I launched my steaming hot coffee in his face.
He was stunned quiet. He didn't have a shirt on so it also hit his chest. I was in big trouble, or so I thought.
What happened was the opposite. He calmed down, went up to our room and literally took a cold shower.
When he was finished he called his Dad. One of the worst moments in my life was getting on the phone and telling his Dad what I just did to him. I have the feeling that Marisa had called him also so he was really compassionate with me as usual.
He told me to apologize and everything would be OK not to worry. I put Bob back on the phone. His father knew as well as anyone that Bob could be difficult, he also wanted more than anything to have me help Bob not pick up another drink. His dad knew that for some reason if anyone could or would help Bob to try and stay sober it could be me. I would not let his Dad, Matt, Bob or myself down. I loved him and I wasn't ready to throw in the towel on our marriage.
As hurt as I was I was willing to try or so I thought until I threw hot coffee on him. Now I didn't even know who I had become.

I had been so careful to walk on egg shells with Bob and Marisa to get them back home safe and in relatively not too damaged shape and now it was all turned on me again. But this time I was different. I was never going to be the same. I would never be that wishy washy wife as Matt used to call me so many times. That person disappeared that morning.

I had tried to get over Meagan, had taken the family on our first European vacation together with the hopes of healing and forgiveness and the truth was it was not going to ever be the same.
I had to face the fact that I was not a woman who was going to ever really trust him again. And with no trust we really had nothing. What was left was a family that was going to put up with each other for the sake of our son.
He begged me on many occasions not to get a divorce and I stayed because I didn't want to hurt him.
I would simply have to find a way to control my anger and hide my broken heart.

I had a broken heart. I loved Bob more than words could ever say, I was his defender always, maybe even his guardian angel and he threw it all away and rubbed Megan in my face when he was angry.

He could be so cruel at times. He was a Scorpio and his words were often cruel and targeted at doing damage. He looked for a weak spot and went for it.
I was now going to fight back and for the first time, I engaged him verbally like never before. I didn't care.

I had moved to Malibu with the hope that he would be far away from temptation, which he was at the time, I had walked on egg shells and people pleased him to death, but all that bought me was an illusion. Fact was he still picked up the drink and I had to let go of the idea that I had anything to do with his sobriety. He simply stayed sober because he wanted too and one day he didn't want to be sober any longer and he drank. End of story. That chapter of my life was over. I had better find a way and fast to learn to cope with our present situation.

I got up early the next morning and went to an Al anon meeting. I have never like this 12 step program and in fact always identified more with AA, at least there seemed to be a sense of hope and compassion there. I had experienced people reaching out to Bob and trying to help him stay sober. I prayed that I could find the same kind of support. I really needed help. I wasn't going to find it there. I poured my heart out when I shared and much to my shock, I was cut off and told not to talk about what had just happened in Paris. It was the last meeting I went too.

I called a friend and got the number of a psychologist in Malibu, I prayed that she could help us. Boy was I wrong.

The Flight Home

Even when you are having the time of your life on vacation the flight home from London can seem to take an eternity. The biggest problem usually is the fact that you are flying into the morning. No nighttime to get some sleep.

As you can imagine, Bob did not wake up smelling the roses that day. He was tired and in the middle of the mother of all dry drunks. I had to get Matt and Marisa and us checked out of our hotel and through security at Heathrow. In the best circumstances it's not pleasant, but Marisa had an excess of baggage and weight in her suitcases that we had prepared for but we never anticipated the mood that everyone would be in.

Imagine trying to act like a happily little family at that point. What a stretch.
Bob was already going into nicotine withdrawal and dealing with the baggage was the last thing that he had the patience for that morning. As I recall there was only one little glitch at checking everything in and we were on our way to our gate.
Everyone was on their best behavior, thank god.

We boarded our plane and Matt and Bob sat together and Marisa and I were together.
As fate would have it Bob was seated next to two little kids that were having a pillow fight for what seemed like an eternity. He finally snapped. He started pacing up and down the Aile of the plane taunting Marisa. I really can't remember what he was saying to her, but his remorse had turned to anger. That was not a good sign.
People were drinking all around him and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on in his head.
Marisa had informed him that her mother would be picking her up at the airport and taking her home there would be no need for us to bother.
He was not going to escape seeing her mom after this trauma, and don't forget Marisa was telling him that she no longer needed him for ANYTHING.

I had saved two of his Valium and brought them with me on this trip just in case something like this should happen. I gave one to Marisa and I took the other. We had to stay somewhat calm on the outside, we could not afford to get into a fight on an airplane. Bob was pacing like a caged animal now. It was too bad that he couldn't take any Valium he was the one that needed it most, but he had just almost died from Valium withdrawal two months before this. If he had any idea I had save a couple he would have taken them and been back in trouble.
I was awake through a real nightmare. I prayed for the strength to just be calm and be understanding and supportive of the two of them. I can't believe I gave Marisa a Valium but it was the only way I knew how to stop the insanity. I think she went to sleep and Bob no longer could antagonize her.
Things seemed fairly calm during the remainder of the flight.

We arrived at LAX and the first thing that Marisa did was call her Mom to let her know we were in customs. It was then that her Mom told her that she was going out that night, but that she would get her some food to eat when she got hungry.
Bob didn't say much to her, but to me on the way home he wouldn't stop.

He just called it. He said if Marisa thought that her Mom was going to let him off the hood financially she was just kidding herself. She couldn't even break her dinner plans when Marisa was in a total crisis. He couldn't get over it. Whatever he was he always put his kids first. It was shocking to him. So Marisa had to basically go home to an empty house after one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. Not to mention that she had been gone for the past four months while studying and traveling abroad.

Her Mom always put her needs first. It was the thing that Marisa seemed to turn a blind eye to. Always. No matter what her father did it was wrong or bad. Her Mom on the other hand could do no wrong. He was furious.

Bob certainly was flawed, at times unbearable, but there was never a time when he didn't put his kids needs before his own. Right up until the end.

A Family in Crisis

If there ever was a moment in my life where I had no control over the events that were about to unfold it was sitting in a cab with Bob trying desperately to get him to an AA Meeting without him just telling the driver to pull over to the nearest Pub.

I had to accept that the dream of getting over the slip was Shattered. I never took into consideration how much anger and rage Marisa had towards her father. I should not have been surprised but I was shocked at the level of her rage.

Coming from a family of Mob guys I was used to people being more than angry at family members but never did I experience it first hand. His daughter really wanted nothing to do with her father, she would have preferred to have left him in Paris and the three of us just get one with our little vacation.

I never loved Bob more than I did at this moment in his life and I really felt his heartbreak. It also broke my heart that the truth could no longer be brushed under the rug and forgotten with tons and tons of retail therapy. The jig was up so to speak and as crazy as it sounds for the first time in years I was also proud of Marisa for telling him that she wanted nothing from him ever again.

Now this is what she wanted and she would soon find out that even though she thought her Mom would cover all the expenses associated with her Stanford tuition and the free spending she had on her dad's credit card she would soon come to realize that her Mother would have nothing to do with that scenario. But at least for the time being she felt that her relationship with him was not worth the stuff.

She was convinced that her Mom would just take care of everything. It was not meant to be.

Of course our amazing Matt would stay neutral as usual. He comforted his dad and stayed with his sister to in his own way comfort her.

I may not have been born into a well educated or wealthy family, but the one thing we were oozing with was the importance of family and I was being torn in half. Matt was neutral he loved us all. I had to find a way to comfort both Bob and Marisa, They were both hurting on so many levels that I was not prepared to handle. My god we needed a full time shrink on board for the next few months and I was in no shape to upset the apple cart with either of them.
I had to literally handle both of them with kid gloves. Bob's life depended on having my support because he was looking for any excuse to throw in the towel and just drink himself into oblivion.
He never really knew how much his daughter was affected by his alcoholism but the truth revealed in this manner was not something either of us had been prepared for.

I was angry with myself for even agreeing to go on this trip in the first place. Had I just said NO none of this would have happened but there was no turning back.
I was now in my maternal protective mode. I had to protect then both. From themselves and each other. Not an easy task for anyone, but given the tight quarters we were facing flying home together was freaking me out. I had no idea how Bob could make that flight without a cigarette or a drink.
All these thoughts were going through my head while I was in that car and as we pulled up to the meeting place, I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. Bob had made it past hurdle number one.
He wanted to get into that meeting as much as I wanted him to be there.

There really is such a thing as a miricle and that evening Bob experienced another miricle of sorts.
We were the first people to arrive at the meeting and the man who was leading asked Bob if he would do the honor of leading the group. Bob accepted and by doing so he would have no excuse to leave early.

The man's name was Ray. I will never forget that he saved Bob's life that night. They had an instant bond. In England it is a bit different that over in the States.
The person leading the meeting has to tell his story. I felt that we were really being protected that night.

Bob poured his heart out that night and instead of many different stories everyone there rallied around Bob and his honesty. He actually begged for their help and told them how he didn't think he could make it without a drink that night.

Ray told his story and as bad as Bob was feeling at the moment his heart went out to Ray. Ray told the group how his beloved daughter had passed away a year ago and how his marriage had fallen apart behind it. It was probably the only story that could top the pain that Bob was feeling. He may have lost his daughter's affection on this trip, but she was still alive and he would have an opportunity pehaps in the future to make it up to her.

Ray on the other hand would never have another chance to tell his daughter how much he loved and adored her. She was truly lost forever. It was a glimmer of light at the end of a long painful two days.
Ray was so taken by Bob and he related to how much that Bob wanted to drink, that he actually drove us back to our hotel and spent two hours with Bob in the coffee shop talking and comforting him. While they were talking I went to check on Matt and Marisa to make sure that they were ok and to let them know that we were back at the hotel. Marisa took really good care of feeding and entertaining Matt so they were just fine. I was emotionally on pins and needles. I just prayed that I could keep it together for all our sakes.
What an amazing gift Ray was that night. By the time he left it was well over 2am and we had to be at the airport at 7am. No time for drinking fighting or anything but sleeping.
Bob's last words when he got back to the room were, "I don't know if I can make it without a drink (there was a mini bar in the room), but I will try. That was enough for me. I kissed him good night and thanked him for trying.

At that point it was all about reverse phycology. I could not lecture him or tell him what would happen if he did drink. He already knew and as far as he was concerned there wasn't much left to live for that night. The words that had spilled from Marisa's mouth would haunt him forever. No matter how much in the years to come we would all try to pretend that they were never uttered they were always lurking in the back of our minds.

In all the years I knew him and all the fights we had experience neither of us had ever stooped to the level that she did. No one ever wanted anything but for him to be sober, she went beyond compassion with tough love into hatred. It forever altered my opinion of her and I really felt sorry for her. She obviously had some major major issues.

I had been kicked out of my house years before and it never occured to me to hate my parents, I simply was stunned. But I loved her and I needed to get her back home to her mom in one emotional piece also. I alwasy used to say no one gets to be like they are by themselves. We are shaped by our childhood and our parents and given the fact that she spent most of her time with her Mom and her family the damage was irreversable.
Whatever love she used to have for her father had been altered and it was heartbreaking to watch them both suffering like they were. I rose to the occassion and did my best to mother the two of them. Matt was just a dream, so loving to them both. He was always there for his Dad. And his Dad adored him for that love.

Becoming Stephanie

I woke up this morning with the lingering distaste of something that was told to me, hence I wrote the previous blog last night.

I must have had a very restless night and I woke up remembering another strange dream.
I have had several in the past week.
While in Las Vegas last week, I had one of the most vivid dreams of my life. It was so real I can still remember it. When Matt and his girlfriend got back to the room, I told him the following story:

I was watching TV in the room and all of a sudden walking towards me from in front of the Television was a little girl. She came and sat on the bed with me and I touched her and told her I was so surprised because I was sure that she must have been a dream and now I was touching a real girl. It was very comforting to not be alone in the hotel room and I was happy to have her with me.
I was touching her hair and talking to her.
The next thing I know is the door opened quite loudly and I was alone and awake.

I started to tell Matt about this and even he said it seemed strange that I was having a dream and talking about dreaming in it.
Whatever it was, either my imagination or someone in the spirit world visiting me I of course will never know, but I still feel the lingering presence of a very sweet little girl.

Maybe that little girl was the sweet girl I used to adore in Marisa. I treated her with so much love and kindness always. Even when I knew how much she was changing I tried to be kind to her. That didn't mean I agreed with her, but I simply allowed her to reveal her true self and saw less and less of her.
Perhaps I was missing those long lost wonderful days, filled with love and hope for the future. Maybe I was missing the sweet and kind child that has turned into a rather cold woman in so many ways so much like her father with a propensity for the same addictive relief.
They both love the Trancs to calm them down. She likes the Xanax and he loved the Valium. The only exception is that she isn't aware of the path she is on, no matter how I tried to tell her years ago to be careful of that. The apple does not fall far from the tree as they say.

Last night I dreamt of romance. That is certainly out of the question for me who seems to be at the top of her jaded ways. But there it was, in living color another bad boy, much like Bob.

Imagine dreaming of a handsome man with an edge, Sober no less in AA. I have vowed to myself I will never ever get involved with another alcoholic. There is just too much of a gamble to ever go there again.
How could I be dreaming of being attracted to someone with the same addiction issues. Am I just missing Bob? Who knows? It wasn't his face up there on a movie screen of my dreams.

That is enough to have me running to a shrink. What is it about me that would be so attracted to another problem relationship. That is the exact reason I refuse to date.
The fear of another terrible outcome just for the momentary pleasure of being in love or lust, who knows. I only know one thing for sure, If I like a man, he is going to be trouble. That is my type. Trouble with a capital T.

I look around and I have yet to see happiness in couples who are together. The initial joy is never sustained. Young or old, it always ends up the same.
I am convinced most people stay in a relationship because they need the company or they do not want the stigma of being alone.

I never feel alone and I certainly don't fear it. I think I am blessed by always having been a loner. My entire life I would rather sit in my room alone as a young girl even, listening to my music or simply being alone with my thoughts.
Sometimes I think it is because I did not grow up with my natural parents and though I was loved and adored, it was different. I child feels the difference to the core of their soul. I just didn't have a strong bond like I have with my son. I was always treated like the honored guest I think.

The pain of the last few years of my marriage were enough of a cure for me. Being Alone seemed like the prize not the punishment to me.
So today I would rather focus on the past good times in the end, when Bob had his girlfriend to take it out on and not me.

Which brings me to this point in the subject matter.

Why do people always hurt the ones they love? Is it because they think they won't loose them? Do they think it is part of the "relationship" I have no idea.
I do know that I never got along better with Bob than when I was not living with him and we were in the process of getting the divorce.
Our friendship was stronger than ever, we actually enjoyed our brief time together when we did manage to have dinner or see a movie. All of his demons were no longer my problem and I only saw the good side of him. I now had the luxury of removing myself from his presence if things got ugly. He would simply have to go home to his condo alone or he could go to the house he shared with Linda.
I felt sorry for them both. They had each found themselves in the other, it was a hell of a price to pay for romance.

Being Enlightened

So what has happened to me emotionally and intellectually during my lifetime? I have become more than enlightened in the ways of the world. Unfortunately life has forever altered me and some would say not in a good way.
I have had to go into survival mode on so many levels. I feel like a man who has the pleasure and the burden of protecting their loved ones.
I have gone into warrior mentality, not by choice but by necessity. All my senses are heightened and I am aware of perhaps more than I want to be aware of.
I no longer trust anyone to be what they appear on the outside to be.
My mind always reserves the right to disprove what they are saying. I know that most people have their own agenda, we no longer live in a kind world. It has become a survival of the fittest world.
The weak have always been run over by the strong. I choose not to ever be weak again.

In the past two years I have lost everything that was important to me except my son.
I have lost the ability to believe in people and kindness. I used to be so naive and Bob would get very upset with me and tell me how ridiculous I was to trust everyone. Unfortunately, he was so right.

He had the ability to see right through people. He could judge them in a second and know who they really were. It was a gift that held him in good standing while practicing law in his younger years.
He could see the lies in their eyes. If you recall earlier I told a story about how he knew his cousin would be killed by his former best friend. The court mediator thought he was crazy. Less than a week later, his cousin would indeed be murdered by his friend.

I did have the luxury of finally listening to Bob, the last couple of years of his life. He was relatively clean and sober and when you had a sober Bob you were in the presence of brilliance.

I have never known a more insightful or brilliant mind. It was one of the most attractive things about him, besides he good looks.

He called it every time. He humbled me in so many ways and in the end I took advantage of his tutoring me in the ways of life and the world.
He had overcome so many obstacles in his life with his battling his addiction.
He too had suffered the loss of so many things. None of them material. I think it started when he lost his mother. He was consumed by all the things he did to disappoint her. He was torchered by the loss of his daughter's love of him, and baffled how he offered her so much and got really nothing in return except her wanting more of his money and not his time.
He rarely spoke of his brother's lack of approval it was just too deep and painful to talk about. He loved him but they were never close in the 25 years that I had know them. Not close like I am with my brother, who I can call up and just talk and he will listen to what is going on in my life. I think it was probably the reason Bob and Richard were so close, Bob could talk to him and Richard would listen. He regarded Richard as a brother and in his way he rewarded that kindness by helping Richard get a house. Richard never judged him like so many did, he simply saw the good side and couldn't even conceive a the things that were going on when Bob was drinking.
Bob's father was one of the most generous people I have ever known,he too rewarded people who were loyal to him with great kindness. Don't get me wrong, they both could be very tough and I would hate to be on the bad side of either of them. But they both had a balance between tough and kind that balanced them out.

I loved being influenced by that kind of generosity. I really wanted to follow in their loving footsteps, BUT it is a different world now. People are different, there is a world full of opportunists even loved ones can become opportunists. I told Matt I think I went to sleep one night and work up as DAD.

I now tend to see the world totally different than many people who I used to be surrounded by. I no longer have the luxury of pretending and keeping my mouth shut and hope that all the uncomfortable things that life throws my way, will just vanish.
I no longer have a shoulder to lean on or the strength of a man. Actually the strengh I thought I was leaning on crumbled into a pile of dust anyway. The illusion of security, just vanished in a moment of truth one night a little over two years ago.

The woman I had been died that fateful night also, but I didn't realize it at the moment that my life would be altered in so many ways. That night I lost my other half, the half that kept the lid on outrageous thoughts for the most part.
The metamorphose has been complete. Sometimes welcomed and sometimes not.

I'm a woman, living in a man's world. Much like Jane Austin I don't want to play the part that society deems fit for a female. Where the hell is society when, I'm facing financial ruin at the hands of a man, who is in charge of a simple act like delivering a check on time.
In two years I watched my credit rating plummet at the hands of a man, and had to spend ten thousand dollars on an attorney just to get my checks delivered by the first of the month. I was not supposed to fight for anything, and believe me, the opinion that man has of me is probably not good. How dare I question a man? A professional old man at that. A man who can't really remember things as it was glaring out at me during the final phase of me finishing up my part of probate, my divorce. This man "thought" he had already paid me back my legal fees. Does anyone think that I would forget that? Whatever.

Tonight I was reminded of one very important thing. I would rather be respected than liked because no matter what I do someone always seems to be bothered.

Oh, I used to be liked, adored or possibly even loved. Who knows. Today as I sit here I would rather be a force to reckon with than the weak, meek or simple minded who seem to dominate the world today. Nothing gets past my eagle eyes or my perception. I have finally become more like a man in my thinking than a woman. I cringe at remembering my old subservient ways. It makes me ashamed that I allowed so many things to happen to me. Marisa said it best when she reminded me that I should have never even trusted her father by not reading certain documents pertaining to my divorce. TRUST NO ONE once again screams out loud.
It's like being trained as a warrior. Every sense is heightened. That's survival mode. You can't help it. It just is. Nothing gets past me of importance, it doesn't make people comfortable.

Has there ever been a President of any country that was loved and adored by Everyone?
Hell no. Do they seem to care? Just think of Clinton or Bush. It's part of the job description. Half the country or more will end up despising you, regardless if they voted for them or not. The price of power is walking a lonely road. There are no friends just faces who either need you or want something from you.
At least the Politicians can blame their unpopularity on Partisan Politics. I can only blame myself for the separatist I have become.


I feel like I mostly identify with Jane Austin of all people. God forbid a woman should point out the inequities of the sexes. Or not want to depend on a man. Because trust me, I know that the price I paid for that false security came at way too high a price. One that destroys the meek. I was heading down that road until I had a miraculous recovery in my mind. I just will not give in to popular opinion of me or anything. Whatever I think or do not think I still end up in the same position Alone with my thoughts.

I can only tell you that I would not change anything about my outspoken personality for anyone. What are the choices? I could go back to crying and whining about my fate, or I can take the higher ground and make things happen for myself. A very unpopular thing for woman to do. Society puts woman into little boxes.
One day I was speaking to an insurance agent about getting a life insurance policy for myself and he said he was surprised because it is not something that woman do.
It's 2007 for gods sake. It is still a man's world.
I fell like since I've had to deal with men on their playing field, lawyers accountants insurance brokers etc. they view woman like children, "We should be seen and not heard".
I played the game for years and where did it get me? It got me an accurate view of life and a family that really doesn't know what it means to be a family.

There is no point on being a people pleas er. It is a waste of my time. People end up having something to say anyway. In life, it seems people are damned if they do and damned if they don't. So if those are the odds what the hell, there is nothing to loose but truth itself. Tell it like it is.It's why I choose to remain a lone ranger. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Tonight I had an interesting situation where something got back to me. It's funny how the human mind is quick to point the finger away from the truth. Hell I'm happy I threaten people enough to have them still talking about me, as I said earlier this evening,I must be getting back on top of my game.
A smart woman is a dangerous thing to handle. Especially when there is no reason left to sensor truth any longer. If you run with me, be prepared to hear it that way I see it. Mostly very, very truthful. I do have a tendency to hold the mirror up and make people look into it.

I had to learn the hard way that in the end the only thing that really matters is how a person views themselves. "To thine own self be true" someone once uttered.
It is my motto, can't live it any other way any more. I spent too many years trying to please the people that in the end turned their backs on me for greed or for the fear that I knew too much and would and could dare to speak the truth.

Well here it is, the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth as I have written several times in the past. The pen is so much mightier than the sword. Words cut deeper than a knife.

Is it a curse to see through the haze of polite society, perhaps. It certainly does separate the men from the boys. Truth has never been for the weak, it brings grown men to their knees others to criminal acts.
So imagine me, a petite little blond with the insight to see right past all the bull shit and niceties of polite society. It is not a welcomed trait to poses.

Most people would much rather talk about you behind your back and pretend to share your same feelings. Not me. I have lost the sensible ability to sensor myself.
Mostly when I have this overwhelming need to speak the unspeakable. Whether or not it is well received. I do make some people uncomfortable but there is only one person in my entire world that matters to me, Matt. The rest are just players in the play of life. In a couple of years I won't even remember most of their names.

At least when I check out of this life in my final golden years I will have done it without fear of what others think of me. I already know and have always known.
They either fear or hate me. You know that old saying, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful"? That has been my life with the exception of my former husband and my son.
I have walk a solitary road for so many years. I never tried to be popular even back in high school, I found the jealousy of being my self something that alienated my friend from me. People like to hang out with clones of themselves. That way they don't see the need to change.

It's a double whammy to look like I do and see through the bullshit and tell it like it is. I just don't care anymore what people think of me.
I wouldn't want to be a member of a club that wanted me anyway, as W C Fields said.
I want to listen to the beat of my own drums not someone else's.

PARIS

What can I say about Paris, Bob and I were thrilled to be going. I had booked first class seats on the Chunned from London to Paris. The three of us were excited, Marisa was being her moody self.

Once we got our seats in the first class coach we were excited about our trip under the English Channel to get to Paris. That was a remarkable experience especially for Matt. He was loving this trip, Marisa was just plain bored. She didn't enjoy the lunch that was served to begin with. Hell what was not to enjoy? We were served lunch with fine china, silver and table linens. She "Wasn't Hungry" again.

I will never understand how stupid I was to believe that Marisa would even begin to actually forgive her Dad for his relapse back into drinking.
I guess Matt and I were already sort of over the shock of it, and more than willing to try and regain our once extremely happy home life.
I failed to take into consideration that Marisa did not have much to get back to. She rarely came over and she was getting just what she wanted. Us to get her and her overweight suitcases back to the States.

I started to get that little knot in the pit of my stomach. Bob and his daughter, Oil and Water. The tension was mounting between them.

The Chunnel trip was over and now we had to get a taxi to our hotel. I booked two connecting rooms at the "Inter Continental Hotel". The location was perfect. Near the Louve to begin with and all the places we wanted to see.
Bob had not been back to France since he was studing there in collage. He was excited to go exploring.

But first we needed to get our Rooms. If you have ever been to France you know that the experience can be very bad. Our connecting rooms were not, connecting, and Bob really started to loose it. He did not want the kids down the hall from us and we had to argue with the check in clerk to get our pre-booked rooms.
Tempers were starting to fray and just when I thought Bob was going to really loose it, a miricle happened. Sitting in the lobby of the Hotel was a very good friend of his from AA and her mother.

I don't think I was ever happier to see anyone from the program as I was to see her that day. We went over and talked to her for a while and she told us where there was a meeting near the Hotel. Of course Bob had no intention of attending a meeting while on this trip. He didn't tell her that but I'm sure she knew by his lack of enthusiasm.
Before we went up to our rooms, she made sure that she let us know what room she was in, just in case Bob needed her for "anything to do with his program>"
She had heard him share about how devastated I was and his family was by his slip.
He had lost his fourteen years of not drinking and we were all still numb with fear and disbelief.

After unpacking Bob and I decided to let the two kids explore on their own. He needed to chill out from the bad vibes he was getting, and Marisa just wanted to avoid him at all costs.

I am grateful for those few hours. It was romantic and I was really happy. All seemed to be forgotten, almost like we were heading into a second honeymoon so to speak.
We walked all over town, went and had the most amazing pastries and coffee and window shopped. Just looking and not shopping was totally fun.
We went back to our Hotel to get ready for our first dinner in Paris.

Matt and Marisa had explored Paris their way. I think they went to "Tuillery" gardens. There was a carnival and they had fun together. They rarely spend any time alone ever, so this was really a good thing for them to bond.
Matt of course was as excited about the programs on French TV as he was with any of the historical monuments.
TV over in France is nothing like he had ever seen. We just let him watch whatever.
It was four in the afternoon, how bad could it be? Marisa was appalled that we would let him watch it.
She seemed to be uptight about it. Hell, our philosophy was, when in Rome. Matt was having a "Real" French experience. I saw no harm in that. After all, it is the culture.

We found a very nice restaurant that we could walk to for dinner, so we all dressed nicely and walked over and we were not disappointed.
I can still see the quaint two story restaurant in my mind. We all of course visited the second story restrooms not only because we needed to, but because it was a perfect chance to explore the place.

I don't remember dinner being tense, but looking back at the walk home, I should have sensed trouble was brewing.

When we got back to the Hotel, Matt and Marisa went into their room and we went to ours. Even though they were connected we didn't all hang out. Matt came in for a while to see what we were doing and then went back to his room to watch TV with his sister.
Bob and I were just really getting over our jet lag and I was so happy to just call it a day. I got under the covers and closed my eyes, Bob read his book.
There was nothing in the air that night that could have prepared me for what lay ahead.

I was abruptly awakened at nine am the next moring, by a very angry Bob. He was yelling at me to get up because he didn't bring us all the way to Europe to sleep the day away.

That was the first sign that we were really in deep emotional trouble. I was stunned, first of all in all the years that I knew him, he was the one who never liked to get up early and nine am isn't exactly wasting the day. I asked him what the hell was wrong.

It was then that he went to the mini bar, picked up two mini bottles of Vodka and started waving them at me, threatening to drink them. I guess we were loud enough that Marisa came in to the room and asked us what the hell was going on.
By this time, I was more than angry.
I told her that her father was threatening to take a drink.

In our world that was the equivalent of suiside. It was not an idle threat. It sent terror into every pour of my body. It must have affected Marisa the same way.

She wasn't preparred for his totally uncalled for reaction. He started to yell at her. I can't really remember what was going on. I wasn't even fully awake when it all started.

All I know is that before things could get worked out, Marisa started screaming at him at the top of her lungs.

She was telling him how much she hated him and that he was just a "sick alcoholic"
She then threatened to jump off the balconey and kill herself.

By this time Matt was in the room. We had never had a "Family" meltdown ever.
First of all I think we were all stunned by the words comming out of both of them.
It was pretty apparent to me, just how much resentment each of them had for each other.

I had to step in and do something to calm them both down. I begged Bob to calm down and call his friend at the hotel and to make a call to his sponsor back in LA.

He actually did both. By the time I got to see how Marisa was doing she informed me that she was in the process of booking a flight out of Paris for the Three of us.

The three of Us? I asked her what she was doing? Did she know that if we left Bob in Paris, we would never see him alive again? It was a death sentence for him.
The one thing I did know about him to the core of my soul was that when he calmed down he would be more than remorsefull.

We decided that I would just go to the Louve with Matt and her father so that she could calm down and perhaps we could just get over it.
That's what I always tried to do. Get over it.
Marisa was a different story. She wasn't used to walking around on egg-shells to calm him down, she didn't want anything to do with the situation.
Matt and I took Bob to the Museum. Of course I look back at this with a bit of humor.
Bob was so far gone at this point, there was no calming him down. He was pacing around the court yard of the Louve smoking and Matt was just taking pictures of him lost in the angry thoughts of his head.
Years later Matt and I would remember with humor how we had an amazing real French Experience and laugh.
Bob always told us about this French man in AA who would go to meetings and tell everyone how "He hated his life and how he hated AA and all of "You" as he referred to people in meetings.

Well, here we were in Paris, his father and sister were behaving just like the "Comedy Improv" skits that Bob would perform for Matt. It was more than surreal.

I'm sure that Bob never remembered one thing about the "Louve" he was busy talking to himself and chain smoking.
I was busy wondering how I was going to get out of Paris without Bob picking up a drink. He was on a terrible "Dry Drunk". The fight with his daughter almost sealed the deal.

That's the first thing he always did before picking up that first drink. Start a big fight. The only thing I was grateful for was that he was more angry at his daughter than me and I was able to try and calm him down.

When we got back to the Hotel Marisa told me to pack because the three of us had a flight back to England.

I was stunned. I couldn't imagine how cruel that would have been. I told her she better rethink her plans, because if she went ahead with her plan, she would never see him again.
I asked her to reconsider and calm down. We were supposed to leave for Spain the next morning. I told her we either all go to Spain or we all go back home but we were not leaving her dad behind.

She looked at me and said the trip was over, she wanted to go home.

I don't even remember if she booked the flights and a hotel room at the airport in England or if I did.
My only concern was to not let her father out of my sight for one minute. He never needed a friend more than he did at that moment. His sobriety was hanging by a thread.
That may sound so dramatic, but it wasn't. All he wanted to do was pick up a drink and die.

If you believe in a higher power than the rest of this story should not surprize you.

We arrived at Heathrow got a room and I immediatley went down to the front desk and asked if there was an AA meeting anyplace near by.
They could not have been kinder to me. Not only did they tell us where there was a meeting, they booked us a car to get there.

I was so grateful that Bob was even willing at this point. Matt and Marisa were in a room by themselves all the better at this point.
I went to their room and explained to Matt and Marisa that I had to take their dad to a meeting and that they should just get anything they wanted from room service or whatever. I had no idea how long we would be gone.

They were both happy that there would be no more drama that day.

We left the hotel and went to seek help because I don't think in many years Bob had ever needed help more than he did at that moment.
He told me he just didn't know how he had managed to make it that far and he told me he did not think he could make it home without a drink.
I was very kind to him and I told him to just do it a minute at a time like they say in those meetings. He said he couldn't even promise me that but he was willing to get in the car and be driven to a meeting out in the middle of nowhere.
We were both desperate for a miricle.