I was married for 10 years, to my high school sweet heart, or so I thought. I still think about him from time to time. He is married now with a new baby. After all those years of being with an person that is so uptight, unhappy and passionate about very specific things-I lost my self, and must admit, it was easy to not think for myself.
Daily routines, going on auto pilot and living for the beer infused weekends.I helped him when his mother was sick. He was very passionate about his mother. To the point of fits of rage, and the vile things that came out of him, were very very disheartening and scary. His mother was diagnosed with bone cancer. She lasted about a year and some change. I sat with him, and his sister. We slept in her room for 2 weeks in the hospice, so that she would not be alone when it was her time. Even through all the shit he put me through, I am glad I was there for him. He made me laugh, and we did have lots of good times. It was not such a bad relationship that I continuously feared for my sanity or hide, only some of the time. I have always believed abuse comes in many many forms. And most people thankfully get to go through life not knowing what its like. There are far worse relationships out there. I know there are. And its not as if anyone is worse off or better off. Its just one persons life, how they take things, and deal with whats there in front of them. Adam knew my Dad. So he was there for me when it was my turn for the death of a parent.I will never be able to thank him enough for doing what he did. My family is not close, nor are they healthy psychologically. They suck the very hope, and dreams out of you with horrifying accuracy.That is not to say that my WHOLE family is the reincarnation of Ed Gein. There are a select few that I am proud to know as my family. I have always been proud of my Salter heritage. Those few that are not soul sucking vampires, I do miss you.
I was told a few weeks ago, by my cousin that my mother misses me. This is a woman who, after telling me my father had been murdered on the side of the road, advised me that she did not care that I was moving to England and would never see me again. To be sure of one thing, this is not a "one of" happening. The absolute loathing and evilness that can be felt from her towards me is, for lack of a better word-frightening.
When my cousin told me my mother named her dog after me...just so she could speak my name-and my cousin reassuring me that it was not in a bad way at all- I was gob smacked. I am 7000 miles away, and she still has the ability to reach her cloven gnarled power grip all the way over to me???
This newest attempt to make me shiver and curl into fetal position, then started the nightmares of my ex husband. I had a dream that he brought my dog (that had died of parvo this past previous year) to England, and was standing at my front door. I miraculously had a sledgehammer in my hand, and can remember every bone crushing, blood splattering second. I killed my dog, and there was someone else's dog's head on the floor, and then I went to town on my ex. I was unable to bash his head in. Not due to emotion, or physical weakness, it just simply would not crush. I improvised and hit his mouth, and then worked my way in and so forth. At the end, I had finally killed him, and this horrible absolute gut turning sadness came over me.
When I first got Foster from the pound,I fell in love immediately. We started the training immediately. He was absolutely the smartest dog I ever had. I was training him with teeny pieces of chicken. Everything was fine, untill he vomited. I thought, oh dear Ive over fed him. And it went down hill from there. Those 4 days were the hardest thing I have ever had to do before. I would not wish that on my worst enemy. That puppy fought so hard. I was with him 24 hours a day. I did all the research, I searched and searched. Special ordered herbal tinctures, and miracle parvo medicine. The reason I am re living this, is that there is a sound that I want to try and convey. Because this is the same sound I made when I realized what had transpired in my dream. It is absolutely soul wrenching.
Foster had fought long and hard.I knew that it was his last moments, and my body was ice cold. He looked at me, and he howled. I want to describe this as best as I can, because even though I will live with that sound for the rest of my life, I don't want to forget exactly what it means to me when I think about it.
He was so weak, and so very tired. His head, he couldn't even lift it. Only his eyes, and they were so tired.
He went rigid, with his last bit of energy and howled. It made me so very broken. My heart still breaks every time I see him in my mind, in pictures or other yellow labs. This howl lasted at least 20 seconds, the longest of my life.
When I realized what I had done to my ex husband and Foster-and potentially another dog (remember, there is a random head just sitting there)-I howled. And it was Foster's howl. I woke up shaking-sweating and in such a low place that I was scared. I used to feel that way-all too often.
I rolled over, and Robert, my husband, thankfully was there. He nuzzled my head and told me it was OK.
To type this out, get it out of my head. I don't have to remember that dream- I don't want to. Its here, black and white.
Keep it safe here-and out of my soul.
No comments:
Post a Comment