And So It Happened… Again

I remember the day I brought her home. We had driven over three hours to meet this new member of our family. Probably through a monster rainstorm because that year we had had so much rain people were complaining their gardens were being flooded.  We had just lost Taz, our 14 year old Shih Tzu. My sweet Beau-ba-licious was three. He was on the trip with us because, of course, he had to approve this new one. No use bringing her home and finding out they didn’t get along.

I loved having a Boxer and wanted a second one. I saw an ad or maybe I googled Boxer rescue. I’m not sure. But I found this rescue site. They said to call and get placed on their waiting list because it could take months before you would finally get a placement. So I called.

The lady said she was supposed to be getting a white male from the Humane Society that Saturday. I told her I didn’t think that would work because I already had a male. She asked me what I was looking for and I remember telling her, “Ideally, I would like a brindle female.” A few days later she calls me back and tells me that somehow the Humane Society had given her the wrong information. She did not get a white male; she was receiving a young, female brindle. She went on to say that it was extremely rare that she ever got young dogs; she estimated this dog’s age to be somewhere between 10 months to a year.

I broke the news to Jerry Lee who questioned why I wanted a second dog. The answer? I just did. Eventually he relented and agreed to it. I loaded the kids and Beau up and we went down the next day to meet this mysterious female brindle.

She was a sweetheart. So pretty. She and Beau got along fine. We stopped at a gas station and somehow she escaped. I remember thinking, “Oh my God! We’ve had this dog for less than an hour and we’re going to lose her. She’s going to run away and we’re never going to see her again.” But we got her back. Into the minivan she went.

For years I had said I wanted a female brindle and I was going to name her Dixie. Well, I got my female brindle. I ended up naming her Laila, after Laila Ali. I had heard all of these cute boxing names other Boxers were given, like TK and Jab, and I decided to go with something like that.

You know what my biggest memory of that day is though? I remember watching from our little deck as both dogs chased each other around the yard. I finally had my two Boxers. They were joyfully playing with each other and I stood there in the moment, drinking it in. I remember thinking, “Enjoy this moment because it won’t last; one day they will be gone.” I don’t know why I thought such a morbid thing at such a joyous time, but I did. Enjoy this very moment in your life because one day it will all be gone. I guess I didn’t think at the time that my life as I knew it would also be over, but I knew that dogs leave us way too soon, and this would be a memory one day. And so it became.

Once again, cancer claims my dog. She was fourteen. For a Boxer, fourteen is old. I mean, for any dog that’s getting up there but Boxers, on average, tend to live around 10 years. A vet once told me that anytime he had a Boxer over 10 for a client he took a special interest in them because it was rare to see. So I knew each day was a gift. I knew it was a matter of time. Maybe she’d get lucky and she’d beat the world’s record, which is 16 years and 9 months, I believe. Maybe we’d have another Christmas, or another summer with her. In March she was given a clean bill of health. The vet said she was in remarkably good shape for her age. He noted a bit of arthritis and some tartar buildup, but that was it. Six months later she was dead.

We came home from the Apple Festival and saw that she had thrown up a couple of times. It looked like she was throwing up grass and pebbles. Not the usual thing you see. I thought maybe she had eaten something and had an upset stomach and was trying to throw it up. The next day her back legs were shaking. She was wobbly and not herself. We took her to the emergency vet where they did x-rays. The vet there said they saw large quantities of sand or dirt in her intestines, but more troubling were the masses in her chest; she believed she had metastatic cancer. She couldn’t tell me how advanced it was. She wasn’t able to tell me if there was a blockage in her intestines. She advised I take her to the regular vet’s to get x-rays done once again.

On Monday the mobster took her in and I met him there. Honestly, that morning I thought when I took her in I was going to be putting her to sleep. She was sleeping on her bed when I left for work, although she did raise her head when I came into the room. The ER vet had given her a terminal cancer diagnosis. She didn’t seem to want to eat or drink. But then hope was restored. When I met the mobster there she was walking around on the leash. She seemed alert. And then the vet there said he wasn’t convinced it was cancer. There was definitely something there that shouldn’t be but it could be a problem with her lungs and not cancer. He advised we try to get whatever was in her stomach to pass and we could do follow up x-rays in 2-4 weeks.

I took her home feeling positive. If we could get whatever this was in her stomach out then she would be okay. We might have another year or two with her. I ran to the store to try to get baby food, as suggested by the vet. When I found the shelves to be bare I bought chicken, hamburger, and plain yogurt, also suggested by the vet. The mobster took her out into the yard to see if she would use the bathroom. She had been digging holes. Eventually she had solid stools (sorry- TMI). She was drinking even if she still had no interest in food. This was good. This was hopeful.

Then Tuesday came and her breathing was labored. It sounded like she had a cold and couldn’t breathe through her nose properly. We were back at the vet’s on Wednesday. It was considered a partial hospitalization. This time they did blood work, x-rays, and an ultrasound. Found that while the junk had passed through her stomach it was stuck in her cecum. The new x-rays showed even more masses, which indicated it was indeed cancer and it was spreading fast. He didn’t think she would be a good candidate for blockage removal surgery because of her lungs. And while we could be aggressive and get answers in regards to where the original tumor was, it wouldn’t prolong her life. The growth of new tumors was causing her difficulty in breathing. 

She was fourteen. Even if we did everything as aggressively as possible what kind of quality of life would she have? How much longer would we get with her? My sweet Luscious Laila Lou was struggling to breathe, was having problems navigating any stairs (I was carrying her up the stairs from Sunday onward), wasn’t eating, and did nothing aside from lay around. I made the difficult decision to put her to sleep September 23rd. Rest in peace, my lovely Lou.

I still think about that day in June back in Utah. 2008. Watching those majestic beasts play. Being so damn happy. I like to think of it as a deposit into my memory bank. A really, really good memory.

The mobster says dogs don’t live long enough. He thinks after Ripley dies he probably won’t get another dog. He’s thinking maybe he’ll invest in a tortoise. Not me though.

It hurts like hell when you lose them, especially when you’re the one having to make that decision. But I can’t imagine living my life without them. I think maybe it hurts so much because they give you so much. They love unconditionally. They don’t lie. They don’t cheat. And they only break your heart when they die.

I lost my sweet Beau Beau in 2017. Laila Lou just days ago. In my mind she crossed the Rainbow Bridge and is once again happily running and playing with Beau. Just like they did that day in June thirteen years ago when they first met.

Miss Laila Lou
Saying goodbye
The day we met
Cuddling with her brother
In hindsight they were quite lazy.
Luscious Laila Lou and Beau, my hunky monkey.

Checking In, Part 3

What else have we been up to? Let’s start with the trip back! I probably should have led with that but what fun is that? I’ll take you up to the present and then take you all the way back two weeks.

I got there Friday night. He picked me up. We stopped to grab something to eat along the way home. It was Dairy Queen. It was on the way and it was fast, plus since my plane didn’t get in until after 9:30 it wasn’t like we had a huge selection of choices. He had promised his parents we would stop by on our way home. We didn’t get to their house until after 11. We didn’t get back to his house until around 1 and then of course, he wanted to show off his Air BnB and all the hard work he has done.

It looks gorgeous! He’s done a great job. But the tour meant we didn’t get to bed until around 2 am, which wouldn’t have been a horrible thing but we were meeting his son and his wife, plus his parents he’d invited the night before, for breakfast at 8:30 the next morning (or more appropriately- later that morning). I would like it to be known that I was ready the following morning. He was still in bed at 8:15. We rushed over to the restaurant and had a leisurely breakfast and visit. His son and I are united in our unhappiness over our lack of coverage in the mobster’s father’s Christmas newsletter. T’s new boyfriend got a full mention and a picture in it last year! I’ve been around for four years and my name was not mentioned once! C apparently wasn’t happy with his coverage either. I think he might have been given a single line and he’s been in the family since birth! So it’s nice we can bond over that.

We met up with one of our Pokemon friends so I could do a lucky trade (not that means much to anyone who doesn’t play Pokemon Go) and then headed back to the house so that the mobster could pack. Yes, in all of his zeal to finish up the Air BnB he neglected to pack anything. Thankfully he was only planning on taking clothes until he finds a place and can move everything up. No sense in paying storage fees when he’s got a perfectly good house. Long story short by the time he was finally packed and everything was put into the car and truck (oh yes, he bought his truck back so he drove that while I drove his car) and we had gassed up and were ready to be on the road it was around 4 pm. 

Let me tell you how the original plan was going to work. First, we were both going to be in the same car. We were going to leave sometime in the morning- not super early but probably no later than 11 or 12. We were going to stop along the way at various places and spin new PokeStops and play some- Lover’s Leap, Charleston. I even had hope that if the restaurant at Chateau Morrissette was open again we could have brunch there. It was going to be a leisurely trip. We might stop and actually eat at a sit down restaurant instead of grabbing fast food. And we would spend the night in Chillicothe, having one last night in our home away from home. We would wake up and have brunch at The Pour House. I would have a mimosa. We would go to the park and play Pokemon Go for a little bit. And then we leave again around noon or so and make various stops along the way so that we could play Pokemon Go, because we’re Pokemon Go geeks and that’s what we do. We would stop in Dayton, Van Wert, and Fort Wayne, and finally get into town sometime between 6 and 8 probably.

As you can tell from the previous paragraph this plan did not go well. We drove separate vehicles. We left way later than we intended. We didn’t go by way of Lover’s Leap, which meant we weren’t going to be near the winery. We took the way that was about 30 minutes longer but didn’t include going over a mountain. We stopped at a McDonald’s to get food but the line was so damn long and slow that we ended up going across the street to the Wendy’s which only had one car in front of it. That was a lie though because they were just as slow! We finally got to Charleston right as it was turning dark and we quickly realized it was not a great part of town. Plus, it was very busy! There was a huge, bustling hospital not too far from where we were. We had planned on parking and then walking around to play Pokemon. That was not going to happen. One of us drove, while the other person spun, and all total we spent maybe 20 minutes there before heading back to the truck. I was tired. He was tired. Plus, in the dark with all the bouncing he couldn’t see out of his mirrors real well so we opted to stop for the night as soon as we could. We didn’t make it to Chillicothe. Instead we diverted to Ripley which was another city we had spent time in. The best part was it was only 30 minutes away.

We got to the hotel. They only had king suites available. I didn’t care at that point. We ordered pizza and breadsticks from Dominoes, watched some TV, and went to bed. We were both exhausted.

The following morning we ate breakfast at the hotel and went out to play some Pokemon Go in a new town (while we had been to Ripley before we hadn’t been there since the mobster introduced me to the game). I had already checked to see if Chillicothe was too far out of the way for us and as it turned out it only added about 20 minutes to the trip. So, we drove to Chillicothe, played in our favorite park for a while, met a very nice couple who had just three Great Dane puppies (they were super cute!), and hung out at High Five Cakes bakery for a bit while enjoying the treats there. We were on schedule to be taking off at the targeted time when the mobster got a message about a booking for the Air BnB. That resulted in us not leaving for about another hour. We did not stop in Dayton. We did not stop in Van Wert. We did not stop in Fort Wayne. I’m positive we did stop to eat somewhere but I couldn’t tell you where.

Oh yeah, and on our drive from Chillicothe I had to abruptly pull off the road and find someplace to go to the bathroom because I got intense stomach cramps about 20 minutes into the trip. One too many fiddlesticks, I think. It was almost the bike trail all over again and I wasn’t having it!

We finally pulled into my driveway around 10:30 that night.

It was not the trip we envisioned but it got the job done.

My mom left the next morning to go visit my niece in Kentucky and our cousin in Virginia. That meant we did a lot of eating out or bringing food home. I’m not much of a cooker. I know I did make one casserole that they both wanted.

His first weekend up here I took him to the Farmer’s Market. He was as delighted as I knew he would be. He loved it! We bought a ton of fresh produce, amongst other things. I introduced him to the diner there as well.

Later that day we visited a few wineries. I took him to Lemon Creek first, which is one that my mom and I had been to before. After that we went to The Round Barn and that’s where we stayed for the next several hours. It’s a beautiful venue. We ended up doing lawn seating. For some reason they only offer one pre-designated flight and it includes a beer sample. We each tried a flight and a glass of the cranberry wine. The flight samples were huge although we both dumped out the beer after tasting it. I also ordered chili cheese nachos and a lobster roll for us to share. Later on he went back and got me a frozen vodka lemonade and he had the frozen wine slushie. We hung out in the sweltering heat and watched all the bridal parties come and go. Wineries seem to be the new place to go for your bachelorette party. And everyone is dressed up. I keep forgetting to put a dress on before going.

I don’t remember what we did on Sunday. Saturday took a lot out of me. Wait! I know we went down to Plymouth so he could face off his products in two stores. I also know that during the week between my mom leaving and coming back he spent a lot of time cleaning out the closet room to make room for a dresser and to get my home office up and running, and cleaning out the shed to make more room for all the things I now have placed in bins out there. I have winter clothes I will probably never wear again because they’re out in a shed and I’m not going outside in negative degree weather to dig through a bin to get clothes to wear.

My mom got back on Wednesday and the following night we went to a baseball game. I had some fantastic Philly cheesesteak nachos while I was there. Friday they both came downtown to meet me for lunch. Our city has Playtime on the Plaza or something like that where a band comes and plays from 11:45 until 1:15, and food trucks are on site. Unfortunately the only truck selling food was only selling fries so we ended up going to one of my favorite Mexican places instead. We sat out on the patio though so we could still hear the music.

And now we’re back to the beginning with him dragging me to a park in my jammies after promising me coffee. It’s been a whirlwind. I’m not sick of him and I don’t think he’s sick of me. He’s quite excited about everything that’s going on in my town. Like I said earlier, golf lessons and cross country skiing seem to be in my future. We’ve both sloughed off on our eating and exercising but the trails at that park, along with all the different paths we can explore, have us both excited to strap on our shoes

Checking In, Part 2

Life with the mobster so far has been bliss, aside from the fact that I think he’s going to kill me. Seriously. Just the other morning we were out to grab a Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. That’s his most favorite place in the world. We had not gone since he arrived in town so we were woefully overdue for a visit. I jump in the car in my jammie pants and a long sleeve shirt I had just bought because it was a little chilly out in the morning, especially compared to the 150% humidity we had just experienced earlier in the week. I only slightly exaggerate on that statistic. Anyway… we hop in the car, go through the drive-thru and then he says to me, “Where’s the nearest park?” I’m thinking, “Oh that will be nice. We’ll drink our coffee and have our donuts in the park.” That is not what happened.

We drove to a beautiful park that I don’t recall ever going to. It was huge! Trails all over the place. We got out of the car and began walking the trails. Folks, I will remind you. I was in my jammie pants. They were obviously jammie pants. A long sleeve shirt. No bra. I was a walking advertisement for one of those People of Wal-Mart memes. I think we walked a mile. And we encountered numerous people, most of whom we spoke to! By the end of the hike I needed to arrange for golf lessons and buy cross country skis. ‘Cause we’re going to start doing all of that.

We then went to the Farmer’s Market (for the second time), bought way too much stuff, had breakfast, took our wares home and put them away, drove to Ironhand Winery and bought a bottle of East Race Red for the three of us to share (it was cheaper than all three of us buying a single glass) plus an appetizer, picked Picasso up from work, dropped him off, then drove up into Michigan to go to Gravity, another winery. We had samples there and ordered food from the food truck. We stayed until closing time, and then drove back to Indiana and went to McKinley Tap where we had another drink, ate some more food, and then played two rounds of darts. That was Saturday!

Sunday we took the dogs for a walk and then as we finished up he asked me if I wanted to take a bike ride. No! We were planning on going down to the Blueberry Festival and would be walking around for the next four hours or so! I had to stop the insanity.

Again, I bought way too much. Of course, every year I buy my dogs gourmet dog treats from one of the booths. I also bought some other little things. I also ate way too much. We had the most delicious steak tips with mashed potatoes and mushrooms, and then we each had a grilled pork chop. They wrap it in aluminum foil and give you a napkin. It’s amazing! I ended up having a pineapple whip after the fireworks and didn’t eat a single blueberry donut so that’s something to be proud of.

The fireworks were outstanding! They always have an amazing show. Honestly, this is a small town. It’s a mostly rural county. But they have the best fireworks I have ever seen. Mid show they have what would normally be most town’s grand finale. And they do it several times with all sorts of fireworks going off at once. At this year’s grand finale the fireworks created a canopy of color in the sky and the show ended with a loud boom and the hillside on fire. And I do mean on fire. Flames were shooting up from the hillside. I have watched this display every year since 2017 (minus last year when Covid canceled the festival) and every year I know I’m watching it with an expression of awe. The mobster filmed some of it but I’m not sure how well it looks on the small screen. In person though it’s wondrous. Absolutely marvelous. If you’re ever around Plymouth, IN on Labor Day weekend I highly recommend the fireworks at the Blueberry Festival.

Last part of my check in rolls out tomorrow!

Checking In

I meant to publish this at the beginning of the month when I was actually in D.C. but I had some problems with the internet. I wouldn’t mention this except I do mention timelines a little bit so it may be a little confusing. Just imagine you’re reading this at the beginning of September, instead of the end.

My, my, my…. time flies when you’re having fun! It’s been two weeks now since the mobster has made his big move. So far, so good. He doesn’t seem to be sick of me yet. He starts running his new business this Thursday which is why he’s back there and I’m sitting in an Air BnB in Washington D.C., waiting for my son and his friend to wake the hell up so we can get on with our day!

This was my graduation gift to him. We didn’t do anything else. No party. No graduation announcements. He chose not to walk. Hell, he almost didn’t graduate! He had an English final to take by 11 am on a certain date and that day came and went without Mr. Chill Guy bothering to take the final. Must have slipped his mind.

Yes, yes, yes. There was something I was supposed to do today. Can’t, for the life of me, think of what it was. Water the grass? Nah. Feed the dogs? No, that’s not it. Oh yes! I needed to take an English final so I could graduate. Hmmm…. bummer. Oh well! Maybe next year!

I swear to God, when I pressed him about it, all shocked and outraged as a mother with PTSD from arguing with her kid about school since freakin’ 2nd grade might be, he looked at me, not a worry in his eyes and said, “Whatever will be, will be.”

Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t get it, son. This is not about you not graduating. This is about me not being able to take another year of fighting you on the importance of graduating from high school.

I’m dead serious. I have been fighting this kid on the school issue since he was in 2nd grade, rolling around on the floor having a meltdown because “school is boring!” Of course, when I talked to the teacher, who in turn talked to the gifted and talented specialist, he then complained that he didn’t know why he was being punished for being smart by having to do more work. He had seen the other kids, the ones that struggled with school, be rewarded with getting to play video games when they completed their work. Why couldn’t he get that deal? Second. Grade.

He did well in school through eighth grade and then came high school which was a nightmare. He went from being an A/B student to being an A/B/C/D/F student, depending upon the class and the teacher. Sometimes he was pretty much a one A and the rest Ds and Fs student. Except for that one grading period where he got straight As, of course.

I went from, “I’ll support your decision to not go on to college but don’t shut any doors; you might change your mind later,” and “Do your best whether you’re going to continue on with school or not. I know you’re capable of this,” to “Just get a fucking D and pass the class!” And again, he had problems with that stance. I apparently had given up on him. Jesus Christ! I had to explain to him that I hadn’t given up on him but I had certainly given up fighting him. As you can probably tell it has been a blissful four years. Not!

Thankfully, the counselor called me the next morning, also freaking out about this (See? She didn’t want to have to deal with him for another year either!). She let me know that another student also hadn’t taken the final and the teacher was willing to unlock the test so that both of these lovely students who obviously didn’t understand the importance of taking the final in order to receive credit for the class so that they could graduate could, in fact, graduate.

The funny part of this is the final in his English class consisted of two questions- both essay questions. Question 1- Describe your high school experience. Question 2- What advice would you give incoming freshmen? I think the teacher asked for a couple of paragraphs and the boy wrote a book. It basically boiled down to: High school was the worst experience of my life and depressed me beyond belief, and high school is an absolute waste of time and no one should bother with it unless they’re planning on going on to college. He pretty much advocated for homeschooling. Thankfully, he passed.

So here we are. We’re in a lovely basement apartment in the middle of D.C. I passed out around 11 our first night here and all I can tell you is that both boys were asleep when I woke up to take out my contacts at 3 am.

The next day we walked all over the nation’s capital. My phone registered over 26,000 steps. We’re still recovering today. I got up around 9:30 this morning and both boys slept until after 2 pm.

This was supposed to be about the mobster and his big move, though. Sorry. Seem to have gotten off on a tangent.

This seems to be as good a place as any to stop. This check in got way too long so I’m going to break it up a bit.

The Day Has Come

This is the last Thursday night I spend being separated from my love by 600 miles. Tomorrow I hop on a plane after work and I fly to him. The next morning we are meeting his son for breakfast and then making the drive back to Indiana. It’s hard to believe that this day has finally come.

When I first “met” this guy I didn’t think it would turn into this. We lived 600 miles apart. I had traumatized children. He had traumatized children. We weren’t going to uproot their lives for our own. Eventually he made the decision that he wanted to move to where I was once his daughter graduated. She graduated two years ago.

Yes, our plans have shifted quite often. So often, in fact, that there were times I didn’t think he’d ever make the move. First the plan was to move up here shortly after T graduated and went off to college. Unfortunately, despite stellar grades the college she wanted to attend didn’t give her much in the way of financial aid and there was no way she was going to be able to afford to go away. So instead she planned to go to a local extension there in town. The countdown was going to begin anew. Two more years, he told me. Then August arrived and she went to college for less than a week before deciding she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t know what she wanted to do. Now all of the plans were up in the air. I couldn’t very well ask him to leave his daughter behind while she struggled to find a job and her place in this world. I would never have done so anyway. I love this kid and I want what’s best for her, even if it’s to my own detriment. I always told him I was willing to do long distance forever if that’s what it took.

August of 2019 she decides college is no longer in her future. It took her a while to get a job and then Covid-19 hit and closed everything down. Finally I went to see him after three months of being apart. Shortly after that visit he threw all planning into high gear. His newly revised plan was to be up in Indiana shortly after the holidays.

Of course, that didn’t go as planned either. He started advertising his business for sale. Made contact with the people who said they were definitely interested. One backed out and the other just ghosted him. He thought he had a buyer but that didn’t work out. Finally, in April he came to an agreement with someone. They closed on the deal in June and he’s been busy renovating the apartment above his garage for an Air BnB for most of the summer, with the exception of the three weeks he spent with me. And tomorrow I fly down so that we can drive back up here together.

I am both exhilarated and terrified. The three weeks we spent together this summer was the longest period of time we’ve ever had. And it was awesome! It flew by. Yes, we were on vacation for 10 days of it but we were not on vacation for 10 days of it, too! It was nice meeting him for lunch, having him take me to work, seeing him here when I got home.

So I suppose I’m mostly exhilarated. I have no reason to believe there will be any major problems. I love being around him and spending time with him. It will be amazing to be able to spend our weekends together. I can take him to the Farmer’s Market that I know he’s going to love. We can check out wineries up in Michigan. We can go up to the lake and walk around. We can go running and kayaking and biking together.

I’m also a little terrified. I worry that I’m too much of a slob for him. I worry that he’ll regret moving away from his kids and his family. I worry he’ll come to believe that I wasn’t worth it and he wishes he could take it all back.

This man has given up *everything* for me. He sold his business. He moved away from his two kids that still live in town. All of his siblings live in the area so he’s leaving all of them behind. I hope like hell that he is happy with me and that I am enough.

Mostly exhilarated though. This has been our goal for almost four years. Tonight is our last night 600 miles apart.

It Must Be True Love

Gather round, folks, because I’ve got something I want to say to you. I’m seeing an awful lot of people on various sites and pages falling for this nonsense that their cheating ex is a reformed person. That the relationship they have with the affair accomplice is true love and they’re going to live happily ever after. That now he or she is going to change and be the person you wanted them to be… for this other person. Karma will never come and they’ve got it all while I’ve got nothing!

Ahem… that is what I like to call… bullshit.

Oh no, Sam! It’s true love. She’s the love he’s always loved. He’s changed for her. Takes her all the places I wanted to go. Does all the things for her that I wanted him to do for me. I’ve seen the vacation pictures. The big new house. The cars. The new babies.

Yeah? Well, it’s still bullshit. As Chump Lady always reminds us they don’t get personality transplants. And social media doesn’t show the whole picture. Hell, I’m Exhibit A!

One year before he left for Harley I was posting pictures of my new house and my new furniture. In April of 2015 I was happily sharing that I had signed the contract for my pool. Throughout the months of May, June, and July I posted updates. In June and July I shared pictures of the kids and I on vacation in Indiana with family and in Utah with friends. I posted pictures of us in Florida, having a great time on the beach again in July. On August 4th I posted pictures of my completed pool. On August 10th I found out my husband was fucking his cousin. Not one time during that year did I post about him going into a psych ward. I never posted about his drinking. I didn’t post about his bizarre behavior where he was constantly crying and kept himself mostly confined to the bedroom. Or the times I found him in the bathtub (sans water) because “that’s where he felt comfortable and safe.” Anyone looking at my social media would think I had it all. Easter of 2015 I was crying in the shower and recording messages for my friends and loved ones for after they found my body.

But this isn’t social media, Sam! This is from friends, acquaintances, relatives, my powers of perception. They will never split up. They will be together forever! It’s true love.

Relationships are a funny thing. They’re a success until they’re not. How long did it take for your own relationship with the fuckwit to break down? People think that just because they’re still together 2 or 3 years later that it means it’s going to last forever. 

Jezebel and Husband #2 were together 14 years! Fourteen! I’m sure his ex-wife thought they would be together forever. And she probably thought Jezebel stole her life and was now enjoying everything that she used to have when she was his wife.

The reality is Jezebel and Husband #2 were struggling financially. Neither one of them wanted to work a full time job. It interfered with all of their vacation plans. But him being a former pastor of a large church (and trying to establish a new church) meant that for some bizarre reason people wanted to get close to them so they could say they were friends. Those people were the ones paying for their vacations. I remember her saying to me once, “We don’t look like it but we’re poor.” It was a mirage. I gave her money that year so she could buy her son clothes instead of having to go shop at Goodwill. They were able to pay off all of their credit card bills because they hadn’t paid them in over a year when he was out of work; their creditors were willing to take just about anything when he finally got a good paying job. He was paying his ex-wife an enormous amount of money in spousal support every month because he was willing to do anything to get his divorce and marry his mistress. I remember Jezebel being furious because he needed her paycheck in order to pay his ex’s spousal support so he didn’t go to jail. In fact, his ex-wife took him back to court after he hadn’t paid her in a while due to the “no job” thing and the judge gave him something like one month to get the $16,000 or so he owed her or he was going to jail. And how did he pull that off? He begged and borrowed from everyone he knew. They eventually ended up losing their house because they had one of those interest only loans and when interest rates went up their mortgage skyrocketed.

Then after Husband #2 finally landed a good job and they were back on their feet again she had an affair with a colleague nine years younger than her. She dumped her 20 years older husband for the new guy. According to Husband #2 she told him he was too old for her. I do know she told me she felt like she had daddy issues and that was what made him so appealing in the beginning but now she thought he needed to find a woman his own age, one that could travel with him. So very kind of her.

Oh, I believe I’ve also talked about how he saw the writing on the wall so he lined up another wife. He was married like a month after their divorce was final.

It took fourteen years but they didn’t live happily ever after. They weren’t always happily ever after when they were together either.

Another woman I’ve seen post has talked about her cheating ex marrying the affair accomplice. They had two children. The children both have a rare degenerative disease. Neither of the parents knew they were a carrier. And after 15 years or so, again the younger affair accomplice ditched the cheater for a person her own age.

Headlines were made back in 2018 when Ric Ocasek and Paulina Porizkova announced their separation after TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS together. By all accounts their relationship began as an affair. Then again, if you look at the timeline, I think Mrs. Ocasek #2 was the other woman as well. My guess is Paulina must have been the one to end it because he got rather salty in the press. He then cut her out of his will despite the fact that they were not yet divorced at the time of his death in 2019, and were still living together.

Yes, sometimes they do stay together. It’s image management. The cheater can’t stand to admit they were wrong. If they leave the affair accomplice then that’s admitting they made a bad choice. You want examples of that? Fine. I’ll give them to you.

Example #1: One of the moderators on a Facebook page I belong to shared a story her former mother-in-law told her. Her ex is married to a mentally ill woman who has driven away all of his family members for the most part. I believe that in the beginning she was welcomed with open arms, which of course, hurt the poster. But now, seven years later, they see who she is. They can see what a mistake he’s made and even his own adoring mother says, “He’s miserable but he’ll never leave her.” Huh. 

I have to admit I smiled a little bit when she told that story. This guy is so arrogant he cannot bear to admit he made a mistake in cheating on his wife with this particular woman. So instead he will sever relationships with everyone in his family who doesn’t think she’s the most amazing person on the planet. He’s so arrogant that instead of leaving this woman who makes life unbearable he’s going to stay in hell forever to prove a point. If that’s not karma I don’t know what is.

Oh, and his mom also said she thinks he’ll cheat on her even though he won’t ever leave. And my guess is his daughter who is only 9 now is going to get tired of the bullshit and refuse to see her dad before she turns 18. It may not happen in the next few years but I would put money on her refusing visitation within the next 5 years or so.

Example #2: Tempest was a very popular, vocal commenter over on Chump Lady’s website. I don’t know how she knew but somehow she was alerted to the fact that her ex’s new girlfriend was now on anti-depressants after being with him for only a short period of time. 

Yes, sure she was living in a million dollar home. By all outward appearances her life was great and Tempest was really missing out. But the reality was the relationship with that man was so stressful and toxic she was taking medication to deal with it. Some fairytale, huh?

Example #3: I wish I could remember more details but what stuck with me is this woman talking about her husband cheating and leaving for the the other woman. He had children with her. He admitted he was miserable and he’d made a huge mistake but he had seen what had happened with his first set of kids and he wasn’t going to do that to his second set of kids. So he stayed.

And finally, my very favorite story. I wish I could find this comment again because it’s stuck with me all these years. I will have to share from memory. Cheating husband leaves his wife and three kids for his pregnant mistress and marries her. By all accounts the mistress had struck gold. She had multiple houses, multiple cars, grand vacations. The wife got cheated out of all of that. They were still together after almost 35 years of marriage. But, the poster went on to explain, the cheater and his mistress turned wife didn’t talk to each other. One was an alcoholic and the other popped pills to help them sleep. The father was depressed and angry that his older three children, the ones he abandoned for Sparkle Twat, had nothing to do with him. Their whole life was a carefully crafted facade built on debt and charity.

When their 35th wedding anniversary came around though, the poster went on to say, she knew they would throw a huge party and everyone would be there. It would be a huge to-do and he would be toasting her as the love of his life. Because they couldn’t let people see the truth, which was that they were miserable together and living in a house of cards.

I’m not saying to stake your happiness on your cheater’s misery. I am saying though to pull your head out of your ass and stop insisting they have it all and it’s true love and they’re blissfully happy while you’re miserable. They’re the same damn person they’ve always been. There is no such thing as a personality transplant. 

The guy who didn’t want kids isn’t thrilled now that his 20 year younger whore just popped two of them out in a row. He wasn’t looking for a new wife. He was looking for a fantasy woman. One that fawned over him. One that made him her priority. Now they’ve got two little babies who demand lots of time. That’s time she can’t devote to him. And if he did want those kids, chances are good it’s because he thought it would keep her stuck with him. It’s always harder to leave once children are involved. 

There is a woman who was married to an idiot that was lamenting the fact that he had married the mistress and they are trying for a baby. This is the same guy who told her how much fun he was having riding motorcycles and living a life of freedom. I didn’t realize you could strap a car seat onto the back of a Harley. Must be a new feature. Mr. Live Free or Die is getting himself right back into the same situation he fled. Traded the old wife for the new wife. Trying to have a baby with that one. The shit that held him down before and made him oh so sad is going to hold him down again.

The guy who was a serial cheater hasn’t magically transformed into a loyal, committed partner. He’s still out there cheating. He may not do it right away, but he’s going to do it. They don’t treat you poorly because they’re not in love with you. They treat you poorly because they’re assholes.

Is he (or she) doing all the things with the new person that you wished they had done for you? That’s just more proof that they’re really in love with this new person and they’ve changed, right? Wrong! You gave them a fucking blueprint. These things will make me happy. And if they will make me happy they will probably make somebody else happy as well.  They haven’t changed. They’re not madly in love. This is not their soul mate and this is why they’re treating them so much better. No, they’ve just stolen your ideas.

I know it’s not a whole lot of comfort when people keep throwing out the statistics on how rare it is when your partner leaves for the affair partner if they’ve already actually left. And it’s not any comfort when they tell you that statistically speaking they only have a 5 to 7% chance of making it to the alter, and then they get married. But let those examples above serve as a guiding light. Once married they’ve got a 75% chance that the marriage won’t last. If they manage to be in that 25% that’s no guarantee that they’re happy. They don’t change. That new relationship high is going to wear off eventually. Old habits will be resumed. The person who devalued you is going to devalue the next one. They’ll be the ones dealing with their temper tantrums, the silent treatment, the scorn, their inability to admit they’re wrong, the bad habits, the nasty attitude, the yelling, the abuse, the constant demands, the feelings of never being good enough. Sooner or later the new supply is going to be wondering where the person they fell in love with went. The person who cheats on you is going to cheat on the next one, unless the next one has them on a very short leash. And that’s karma in itself.

Entitlement, Thy Name Is Cheater, Cont’d.

Speaking of entitled cheaters the mobster’s STBX called him while he was on vacation. T-Mobile lets you block a person but it doesn’t really block them unless you pay an extra fee. What it does is prevent them from directly reaching you. The texts go into the archive history and the phone calls go to voicemail.

The mobster wrote a post about it before I could write my own post (copycat!) and I’ll link to it if you want the transcript in its entirety. The gist of the conversation was this: She didn’t understand why he wouldn’t take or return her calls. He was her best friend and always would be. The fact that he won’t talk to her kills her and she doesn’t understand whyyyyyyy.

We’re right back to: I do not think that word means what you think it means. I don’t know about you people reading this but I don’t gaslight my best friend. I do not tell them bold face lies and expect them to believe those lies. I don’t accuse my best friend of abusing me… or my children. I don’t lead people on to believe that I need to be “rescued” from my best friend because of their abusive behavior. I don’t ditch my best friend by trying to slink out of the house without saying a word to them about the end of our friendship and then bring my new best friend to a kid’s ball game and proceed to act as though my former best friend never gave a shit about any of my fake injuries and illnesses- all caused by my former best friend, of course.  

Thankfully we are far enough along in our relationship that this kind of nonsense doesn’t bother me. As I told him, “I’m not upset by the fact she called; however, I have to point out the absurdity of her claims.”

It’s another sad sausage feeling sorry herself. Oh believe me, she was choked up. Practically in tears. Why, oh why, won’t you answer my calls? You’re my best friend and you always will be. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Doesn’t it make you forget all the horrible things I did? Surely the knowledge that I’m willing to allow you to stand in the radiance that is me must be thrilling to you. Why won’t you take my call? How can I bless you with my presence if you keep ignoring me?  

As the mobster said, “What a chameleon she is.” Whenever her affair accomplice isn’t around she gets to feeling lonely and reaches out to him. It hasn’t happened in a long while but I know the routine by now. She just wants to hear his voice. Wants to let him know he was the very best husband. Now apparently it breaks her heart he won’t talk to her. He’s her best friend and always will be. But when the accomplice is back in the picture she becomes angry and combative. I don’t know if she’s putting on a show for him or what but it’s a completely different kettle of fish when she’s with him. The mobster surmised it must be an exhausting way to live.

I don’t think she’s exhausted. I think she’s entitled. This is the woman who seemed to think it was fine to send pictures of herself in a bikini to another man behind her husband’s back. She seemed to think that, “All I did was show him my pussy!” was a valid defense when questioned about a possible affair with yet another man. She fed her sad little tale of woe to someone else and he fell for it hook, line, and sinker. He was going to be her brave Prince Charming, rescuing her from her angry, abusive husband. Then whenever she was left alone (new guy apparently is gone for work quite often) she would call the mobster and expect him to fall for her lies and offer to rush right over. For so long the mobster overlooked everything; his entire focus was on getting her sober and making their marriage work. She felt entitled to his love and devotion and can’t believe he finally walked away.

In the beginning I would almost feel bad. I remember telling him that I didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t reconcile. If he still felt like he had a marriage to save then I would step away. He also assured me though that he was done that night she brought the affair accomplice to their kid’s game and proceeded to put on a show. That was when he finally had had enough. He filed for divorce the next day. He has also pointed out that she is all talk. She’ll say these things hoping to keep him on the hook but she never does anything. She misses him so much but then says she can’t leave her affair accomplice. She misses him but makes no moves to come back or to try to make amends. As he so aptly puts it, “She probably doesn’t even remember the conversation the next day.”

I believe it goes back to what I said in the very beginning: He was supposed to be her Plan B. He was not supposed to move on; he was not supposed to meet someone else and fall in love. She could replace him but he was supposed to pine after her forever.

When I say they’re entitled this is exactly what I’m talking about. Only a cheater could sneak around behind your back, lie to your face, leave you for another person, malign your character, and then turn around and pitifully cry, “You’re my best friend and you always will be! Why won’t you take my calls?”

Entitlement, Thy Name is Cheater

I saw this meme and I thought to myself, “I have no words.” Then I thought about it and decided I did have words. Unfortunately, I have been so bad about writing that I never got around to it. Before I could point out the absurdity of such an asinine statement I was slapped in the face with this drivel:

Folks, this gets to the very heart of what Chump Lady always says about cheating. She maintains it’s about entitlement and crappy character. What better example of that entitlement is there than these two memes?

Don’t lose a loyal man because he’s occasionally unfaithful? As they would say in “The Princess Bride”: I do not think that word means what you think it means. A loyal man is not unfaithful. Feel free to interchange the pronouns as necessary. That’s like saying, “Don’t give up on your law abiding husband because he occasionally murders someone.” “Don’t give up on your honest investment banker because he occasionally embezzles.” “Don’t fire your favorite teacher just because she occasionally sleeps with her students.” I guess if you only do something occasionally it’s okay.

You say he hits you? Does he do it regularly? No? Only occasionally? Oh yeah, then you don’t want to lose a good man like him because he occasionally hits you.

He occasionally molests your kids? Well, it’s not like he does it all the time. You don’t want to lose a good man over something that only happens occasionally.

I could do this all day. She only tried to poison you once! What’s your problem? She occasionally shoots up in front of your kids. It’s not like she’s a junkie. He occasionally lies to you. Where’s the red flag in that?

As you might be able to conclude I think the idea that you would want to hang onto this gem because he’s only occasionally unfaithful is a load of crap. Being occasionally unfaithful is a lot like being a little bit pregnant. You either are or you aren’t.

It’s also an entitled attitude. He’s so fucking phenomenal that it doesn’t matter what kind of shitty behavior he engages in. You don’t want to lose him, do you? Just look past him sticking his dick in other people. It’s no biggie. You don’t want to lose a loyal man like him because of the occasional cheating. Where on earth would you find someone better?

Then we move onto this brilliant advice, otherwise known as, “How to eat shit sandwiches and keep a smile on your face.”

Cheating is apart (sic) of ups & downs of a relationship tho. Every man is gonna hurt u, u just gotta find that one worth hurting for. Millions of happy wives have been cheated on & absurd but they fought for their marriage to work. If you not willing to fight for love then stay single.

Oh Professor Douche, there is so much wrong with this. We’ll begin with the obvious. No, cheating is not a part of the ups and downs of a relationship. Cheating is, or should be, a deal breaker. It should not be normalized. If cheating is a normal part of the ups and downs in a relationship then you are in a very toxic relationship. My advice is to get the hell out!

Secondly, pain and sorrow is not a normal part of a relationship. You should not expect to be hurt. You should expect to be loved and treasured. Supported, cherished. Not writhing around in agony because the person you’re with is an asshole and you think this is just the normal course of an average relationship. I don’t find any man worth hurting for. Whether you’re a man or a woman I would hope you wouldn’t find any man or woman worth hurting for. That’s not love. That’s abuse. Let’s stop selling these tortured relationships as love affairs of the century.

I find it astounding that he actually believes “millions of happy wives have been cheated on & abused but they fought for their marriage to work.” Those women are not happy. They’re desperate. And where are all the men fighting for their marriages to work despite wives that are out there sleeping with everyone? I guess being hurt and being cheated on and being abused isn’t part of a man’s normal relationship. At least not as a recipient.

I do have to give him props thought. He dared to take the conversation where others normally don’t. He’s actually suggesting that if a man only hits you occasionally you should continue to fight for your marriage. Sounds amazing. Yeah, he gets drunk and beats me but it only happens a few times a month. He cheats on me, slept with my sister, gave me an STD, but that’s just part of the ups and downs of a relationship, you know. I stuck it out. I fought for my marriage and my lying, cheating sack of shit abuser. I am so lucky! I know how to stick with it unlike you losers out there. You give up too easily and that’s why you don’t have a lasting relationship. Unlike me.

This is the crap the RIC peddles. Fight for your man. Fight for your marriage. Who cares about your dignity? Keep him at all costs. It’s far better to have a man, even if he’s a shitty excuse for a human being, than to be alone.

I’ll let you in on a little secret. The idea that love means never having to say you’re sorry is bullshit and so is this idea that you need to fight for love. Love is freely given. It is reciprocated. Relationships may not be all sunshine and roses all the time but you shouldn’t have to be fighting for your relationship either. Nor should you have to navigate through hell for a relationship. That’s not a relationship worth nurturing.

Oh, and third? This idea that if you’re not willing to fight for love then you should stay single is another way of getting you to continue with the pick me dance.

If you not willing to fight for love then stay single.

No, bro, how ‘bout if you want me to continue to be in your life you get your shit together from the very beginning? He’s making a declaration, folks. If you can’t fight for your man then you should stay single. If you’re not willing to overlook his cheating and his lying and the abuse he foists upon you then don’t even bother trying to find someone. It’s much better that you remain single. Any of you people out there that believe you deserve to be treated with decency and respect need to readjust your expectations. You should willingly accept the crumbs someone tosses your way. Who do you think you are anyway? You don’t get to make demands. You don’t get to make a choice.

All snark aside these two memes are shining examples of what I talk about and what Chump Lady talks about when we keep shouting from the rooftops that cheating is not a marriage problem; it is an entitlement problem. That’s what all of this is about. It’s what the RIC is built on. They truly believe they are entitled to forgiveness. It’s a given. Any real woman would do the right thing and fight for her man, her relationship. Of course she would forgive him, take him back, and never speak of it again.They believe they get to call all of the shots. They get to decide to cheat on you. Then they get to decide if they want to stay with to you or if they’re going to leave. They are entitled to do whatever they feel like and you need to sit there and take it like a good little woman. Sadly, many of us have been indoctrinated to believe this bullshit. To believe that cheating is just a mistake. To believe you owe it to them to give them another chance. To believe that you don’t throw away years for one bad moment in your relationship. We’re taught to forgive and told that relationships take two people. We’re told to look at ourselves and ask ourselves what we did wrong, how we made them cheat, what we did to drive them into someone else’s arms.

That. Is. Bullshit. Cheating is not a relationship problem. It is an entitlement problem. They feel entitled to cheat and they feel entitled to your forgiveness.

Am I going to find that one man that is worth hurting for? No, Professor Douche, I’m going to find the man who doesn’t believe that cheating and abuse are normal parts of a relationship. 

Am I willing to fight for love? I don’t know. What’s the prize money like? Come on! I’m way too old to fight for love. It’s either there or it’s not. All of this “fight for your relationship” bullshit is just pick me bait.  I’m not fighting to keep a relationship with a lying, cheating, entitled asshole. That’s a solid “No.”

Am I going to lose a loyal man just because he’s occasionally unfaithful? Oh honey, I’m not losing anything. I’m kicking that sonofabitch to the curb! He’s the one that lost something.

#riseup

Wow- Now That’s What I Call Karma       

You all know my mother is an avid ID TV watcher. Every TV in the house is tuned to that station as she makes her way from room to room.

I used to be an avid ID TV watcher but not so much anymore. It kinda bums me out and I just don’t want to see people begging for their lives or hear some of the awful stories you hear on that channel. I am, however, lazy. So when my mother has been upstairs and has turned the channel onto ID TV I don’t usually change it. I don’t deliberately watch a bunch of TV and when it’s already on I don’t go to the trouble of changing the channel.

Anyway, all of this prologue to tell you I was sitting at the dining room table doing something, don’t remember what, when the story of Lee Hartley came up on the TV. Let me give you the background.

Lee Hartley was a 35 or 36 year lieutenant in the Navy. As his daughter was quoted saying in an article, “My father and my mom were very happy at one time… And then my dad went through a mid-life crisis and fell in love with his secretary, Pamela Johnson.”  He had an affair with, and married, his 23 year old secretary. Shockingly, trouble was afoot. It seems that young Pam very much enjoyed drinking and flirting with the other men at the Officer’s Club when her husband was out to sea and her husband didn’t like that so much.

Huh. Who would have thought that a woman willing to sleep with another woman’s husband might not have the best moral character? I’m shocked. Who would have thought that a woman in her early 20s would want to go out dancing and partying instead of staying at home, counting down the days until her beloved older husband came home from sea? Again, I’m simply shocked.

Lee was labeled terribly jealous and it was said that he did not like Pam talking to other men. Pam, on the other hand, quite enjoyed it and wished her husband would stay out to sea so she could have her fun.

Since this is ID TV you know a murder occurs. They’re not peddling weddings and puppies on this channel. After less than a year of marriage Pam decides she wants out. Over a period of months she sends her husband care packages onboard his ship. They’re laced with arsenic. When she flew out to Spain to meet him in port (I think that’s the correct terminology) she poisoned his dinner. She continued sending him poisoned care packages. Finally, in the hospital where he was being treated after months of being slowly poisoned, she gave him one last lethal dose- in the apple juice she helped him drink. He finally succumbed to a cardiac arrest.

According to one source Pam did it because while she didn’t want to be married to him anymore, she certainly liked the status that being a Navy officer’s wife brought her; she decided it would be easier to kill him and be a Navy officer’s widow as opposed to being a Navy officer’s ex-wife.

According to the show I was watching, however, her purpose behind killing was much more altruistic… and bizarre. She claims she killed him because she knew he was so crazy about her and loved her so much that she didn’t want to hurt him by divorcing him… so she slowly poisoned him over a period of months which resulted in an agonizing death instead.

Huh. Again, I am floored. That is a new one. I killed him to spare him the heartbreak of me leaving him. Something tells me he would have been able to recover from the heartbreak a little easier than he could recover from being dead. But I’m no doctor.

That’s the story. Older, successful guy dumps his loyal wife for the shiny new secretary who is approximately 15 years younger. She turns around and kills him. When asked why she used poison her response was that women had been poisoning their husbands for thousands of years.

Oh yeah. Forgot this part. She got away with it for 14 years. She was only caught because someone decided to re-open his cold case. They discovered the polygraph test was read wrong which led to them looking at her as a suspect once again. This led to conversations with other people in the Officers Wives Club with Pam, and who admitted she had told them she was miserable in her marriage, wanted out, and she was trying to find someone to kill him. Why that wasn’t more closely examined 14 years prior is beyond me. Once finally convicted she was sentenced to 40 years in prison but ended up only serving 15 and a half.

I was only half listening to this story when something caught my ear and I realized this was an affair that went horribly wrong. I’ll admit when I realized his mistress turned wife killed him I let out a little bit of a laugh. I felt bad at first because this man left behind a daughter who adored her father, but the reality is I don’t really care. He left his wife for this person and she ended up killing him less than a year after they wed. He dumped a devoted spouse for a murderer. Maybe that’s not karma, but it’s something.

I don’t think a person who cheats, whether they’re the spouse or the accomplice, deserves to die; however, I don’t feel bad for them when it does happen, especially considering that the duped spouse is usually the murder victim in these triangles. Either the affair accomplice is trying to take them out so the spouse can be with them (or they’re pissed because the spouse won’t leave) or the spouse is killing them so they can be with the accomplice and not lose any of their money or possessions. It’s refreshing to see them killing each other off for once.

I think overall this story serves a big eye opener. Oh, not to the cheaters. They’ll never learn; they will never believe something like this could ever happen to them. No, it’s an eye opener for those who were left. It’s not always sunshine and roses despite what it may look like on the surface. We always want to convince ourselves that they’re living this amazing life and they’re so happy while we have to rebuild piece by piece. But what really happened in this story? Lee got his hot, young secretary; I’m sure all the men around him thought he had hit the jackpot. But the reality was he married a woman much younger than himself and she still wanted to act single- while retaining all the perks of an officer’s wife. She wanted to dance and drink and flirt with all the other cute, young officers and her husband got in the way of that. People might have seen them, or heard about them, in Spain and thought they were living the life- laughing, partying, drinking sangria every night. The reality was the new wife was poisoning the meals she was serving to her husband- and his friend! And while it may be true that Lee was madly in love with Pam which would definitely be painful to the discarded wife, it was also true that Pam was plotting his death and deliberately poisoning him. From all sounds of it neither one of them was happy, almost from Day One. Pam didn’t seem to realize what marriage meant. She wanted to party with other men and while her husband was out to sea it was easy to do that; she could pretend that everything she had wasn’t because she was married to him. Less than a year into her marriage she was sending him poisoned care packages. Lee discarded his wife for a woman who would soon kill him. He may have been besotted by her but he was also described as being jealous and controlling. Pam liked to flirt with other men and surprisingly Lee did not like that. It was reported that one of the reasons he wanted to get off the ship early was so that he could “keep an eye on” Pam.  To the outside world they might seemed to have had it all but in the end she killed him. And before that they made each other miserable- poor Pam not being able to go out and #$#% other guys without her husband getting upset with her and poor Lee always wondering what, or who, his much younger mistress turned wife was doing. Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?

I’ll leave you with Pam’s own words regarding the murder:

I’ve known a lot of people to divorce. And divorce hurts. I didn’t think past my actions… When the officers’ wives started talking about… not wanting the husbands to come home, that- planted a warped seed into a warped mind. And that’s how that seed got planted and started growing, how to get rid of Lee?… It was difficult watching what I was doing to Lee… I knew that poison was in him and that… I had done it to him. And it broke my heart.