THE VERY NEXT MONTH I was taking Jackson to Arizona to enroll him in an aviation school. It was a quick turnaround, but I was looking forward to it for us. He and I hadn’t been very close in awhile so I thought this might be a nice springboard for us to put things back together. The girls were going to stay home and between Nona and my family, they were going to be well taken care of.
The trip was only four days and we had a good time. We got to the school and got him squared away with his registration, housing, etc. After we did all of that, we went to stay with a buddy of mine in Fountain Hills. We spent that weekend hanging out at the pool, eating, and laughing. It was a nice bonding experience, and it was very much what we needed to start bringing us back together.
We got back home and once again, I had a short turnaround before my next trip. I will say this, I don’t like traveling when I’m in a normal state of mind, much less two months after I lost my wife. Even still, the final trip of the three was mine and mine alone. I didn’t have any family with me. This was the Vegas weekend and only my buddy Mark was going with me. The couple who was getting married invited me to get me out, but that turned out to be a bad idea. Normally anyone in their right mind is excited about a weekend trip to Vegas. Especially when you’re leaving a cold and rainy Chicago. What I didn’t think about before hand was how very self-conscious I would feel walking into this wedding alone. I wasn’t anticipating anyone’s sympathy or anything like that, it just felt weird not having Gina by my side. I couldn’t even begin to remember the last time I was at a function without her on my arm.
Watching them get married really affected me. I don’t know why, but I never considered the fact that watching something like that would take me back so hard. It really did though. Even though I was watching them, all I could see was the wife I no longer had. I watched as the vows progressed and when I heard the words “til death do us part” my heart sank. It was as if Mike Tyson himself had walked into the room and landed a right hook smack dab in the middle of my chest. My eyes welled up with tears but it wasn’t for the bride and groom. It was for what was missing in the seat next to me. That was about all I could handle. From that point, on Vegas became a drink-fest for me. I drank to forget. I drank to smile. I drank to drown. I drank it all down.
After awhile, a buddy of mine and I left the reception and went out in search of trouble. We found some craps tables and really went to town. The drinks were flowing, the dice were rolling and as it turned out, I had a nice little run.
Eventually we walked away from the table, no longer fulfilled by the rush, and looked for some other form of excitement. We found some ladies who were looking for company so we entertained them for awhile. By this point, I was schnockered, and really feeling lonely. Not to mention that it had been a long time since I’d felt the touch of a woman. I didn’t even care that they were prostitutes. We were in Vegas, I was drunk, and I was looking for fun. We ended up taking them back to the rooms but that’s pretty much where it ended for me. In hindsight, it’s probably the best thing that could have happened to me because I was nowhere near ready to be with a woman. Thanks to Ketel One, I didn’t have to worry about that anyhow.
It was a quick trip and before I knew it I was back home. Immersed in reality, I took a left turn when I should have settled back in. For some time after that I took over the responsibilities I had to but I wasn’t quite the father I had been before I left. I don’t know why but I found myself becoming more and more obsessed with my own omissions. In a sense, I went back to being what I was before Gina died. I was the provider. I got my tasks done, brought the money in, and then put the rest on Nona, much like I did with Gina. I started staying out late. I missed tons of dinners. A lot of times I wasn’t even home in time to put the kids to bed. I hate to admit it, but I fell into such a self-pitying episode that if the girls couldn’t buy it or get what they needed from Nona, they were essentially on their own. Even sadder, they knew I wasn’t home and when they remind me of that now, it hurts. I should have been there more, but Vegas seemed to put me in this very selfish place. I was mad. I was frustrated. I was sad. Work wasn’t going very well at that point either, which contributed to my cause.
When I was home, I still felt uneasy under center. The house felt very cold and empty to me. It was still all her. Her decorations. Her arrangements. I was trying to figure out how Gina did what she did, but that whole thing felt like it was all was just in effort to fill a void. It felt like someone had carved the heart out of it and we were living in its shell.
In every way you can imagine, just a few months after we buried her I was making every wrong move and choice you could possibly make.