Looking back, trying to piece together how I got to where I was in life, isn’t easy. So many little things happened, but put together they created big things…or maybe a better way to put is, big consequences.
I left off with my story, telling you I had finally realized I needed to end an emotionally abusive relationship. And it would be easy to just leave it at that, but nothing is ‘easy’ about that kind of relationship.
Getting out takes some finesse. If you have experience with emotional abuse, you know what I’m talking about. I had to wait until the time was right.
You don’t get out of an abusive relationship during the ‘good’ phase.
No, that is a sure way to draw it out and endure copious amounts of flowers and “I’m sorry” and “I’ll change” and on and on until your resolve is lost and you find yourself right back where you started.
The best thing to do is wait for a blow up, which will happen. In reality, we really weren’t seeing much of each other. I was busy.
That summer I was concentrating on my real estate business and having fun with my sons. For the first time in a long time, I had a little money, so we were having fun spending it. It was great to be spending time with my sons, and I was happy.
By August, a big real estate firm was absorbing the company I had started with. And they were moving us to a brand new building, in the best part of town, with sweeping views of the Cascade Mountains.
The top producers got first pick of offices, and I was one of them. The only setback was, I was severely ill with pneumonia. I have no idea how I got it; I just know I could hardly breathe let alone move.
So a good friend and colleague made sure to pick out one of the best offices for me, and then came and picked me up to give me a tour. A very slow tour.
I felt proud in that moment. Even though I was so sick I could hardly walk, I was walking into my top floor office with a view. I had worked very hard to get there, and it felt great to be rewarded for it.
As soon as I was back on my feet, I was helping my oldest son pack up all of his belongings to head off to school. Like me, he has never been one to follow the mainstream way of life, and his dream was to work for a top fuel drag racing team.
So I helped him load up his belongings and his 1970 Chevelle, and we caravanned across several states to Laramie, Wyoming. His girlfriend road along with us, and after saying our goodbyes, the two of us headed back home.
We were pretty quiet for the long ride back to Oregon. I knew she was sad to see him go, but I didn’t know until much later, just how much my oldest son leaving would affect me too.
With a little more time on my hands, I started to spend more time with the saddle maker. We even took his daughter and my youngest son to Mexico for a vacation the next spring.
And as with the past, stress was a sure way to invite a blow up from him. Returning from that trip gave me the perfect opportunity to leave. And so I said goodbye.
I felt like I had been released from prison and for the first time in a very long time, I was free. What I didn’t know at the time was, a series of events in the coming years would take me down a path I wish I could change.
…to be continued.