Friday the 13th

Okay, I know today is actually Saturday the 13th but bear with me here.

June 13th brings about a couple of birthdays in the family. It's also close to Father's Day and our anniversary. It's the beginning of summer and nice weather. Unfortunately, June 13th will now always be tied to negative memories because of last year...Friday, June 13th, 2008. That was the last June 13th Chuck lived to see. (For this first year, that has been my first thought every morning..."this time last year".) It was to be a special weekend last year because Father's Day and our wedding anniversary both fell on that Sunday.

The day started off normally enough. At the time, we were dealing with so many pressures and issues with my stepdaughter. Our whole summer was chaotic because of her. She pulled her same shit that day and got Chuck really upset. Really, REALLY upset. I won't go into all of the boring details because it would make this post very long.

After a long day of her either not answering the phone or hanging up on him, she decided to call me at a time when she figured her Dad would be sleeping. Well, he was. But he woke up. He wanted to talk to her. She started screaming at him and hung up on him...again. He had so much anger in him over the whole situation and we all know how that can go. Sometimes you take it out on whoever happens to be there at the time. On the ones you love the most.

Long story short, we got into a huge argument. He got so irrational and, well, he just kinda went crazy. Bad. It was really bad. I made the mistake of calling the cops...not thinking about the outcome of that decision. I just wanted them to calm the situation down. Instead, they took him to jail. Because of the charges against him, there was no bail set. We had no choice but to let him sit there until he appeared in court Monday morning.

He spent his last Father's Day and our last anniversary in jail.

We worked through a lot over the phone that weekend. We finally accepted that there was nothing we could do to change the situation. We vowed we would definitely make up for it "next year" on our anniversary. God, his voice on the phone broke my heart. He sounded so broken. Here he was, trying to be the good guy...the good Dad, doing everything in his power to help his daughter get her life in order. Instead he was being punished while she ran free, shirking all of her responsibilities as a mother.

He finally appeared in court Monday morning. We were prepared to post a hefty bond, come home, and worry about future court appearances. That wasn't to be either. He wasn't allowed to come home. As a matter of fact, we weren't allowed to see each other...or even talk to each other. He had to live at his Mother's house while I stayed home with the kids. For at least 3 weeks. And he had to wear an ankle monitor. All the while, Nichole was still running around the city without a care in the world. Or as Chuck used to say (quoting Kid Rock), "sippin' whiskey out the bottle...not thinkin' 'bout tomorrow." I took responsibility for my part in the mess and so did he. Not Nichole though. Why should she? In her eyes, she did nothing wrong.

We stayed away from each other (for the most part) for a couple of days. We finally decided it was bullshit and I basically moved in with him at his Mother's house. We were determined that no judge was going to tell us that we couldn't be together. Of course he was nervous about getting in trouble for it but he was willing to pay the price. Our time together meant that much to him.

I'll never forget the day we met with our lawyer. Chuck explained the circumstances to him and then, all of a sudden, he broke down and cried. That's the first time I've seen him cry since his oldest son passed away several years ago. He told the lawyer that he just wanted to be back with his family. He told the lawyer how we've never spent more than a night or two away from each other in our 20 years...and that was only when one of us was in the hospital. He talked about how he had to miss our annual trip to the lake...something he looked forward to. (Yeah, that's another thing he missed out on because of that weekend.)

In the end, everything worked out in Chuck's favor. All of the charges were dismissed and all we were out was the cost of the lawyer. Oh, yeah. And that last Father's Day. Our last wedding anniversary. His last chance to go to the lake. He missed out on a lot. But we kept reassuring each other that it would be okay because we always had next year.

In that time he was at his Mom's and the few months he was home before he became sick, well those were the best 3 months we've had in many years. We reconnected in a big way. We remembered why we fell in love in the first place. Our kisses had a new found passion about them. Our intimacy got so much more meaningful. We had a greater appreciation for each other and our every day life together. Our marriage was stronger. We were less quick to anger and forgiveness came much easier. Sure, we still had issues with Nichole. But now we were on the same side of the battle line. We supported and stood behind each other. We were able to talk about things we normally would have argued about. We were, once again, what a married couple should be...a team.

They say everything happens for a reason. If I could go back, my first thought is that I would never have called the cops that night. But maybe...just maybe...I wouldn't change a thing. I treasure every day I had him in my life. But those three months were as close to perfect as a relationship can get. He also got to spend some quality time with his Mother which meant so much to her.

It doesn't mean I still don't regret that whole situation. But as much as we missed out on that summer, we gained so much more. Our final memories together were some of our best. I only wish we could have had time for more.