Masterpiece in Progress Smith, TL (online e book reading TXT) 📖

God, when I in awesome wonder, consider all the worlds thy hands have made....." By the time I got through the chorus, my sweet momma had tears on her face, and I knew then that she knew it was me.

I told her it was okay and that I would be okay (BIG LIE) and then I softly sang "Have Thine Own Way Lord" to her. A song we had sung together so many times.

I kissed her cheek and went home and something in my gut told me to turn around, go back. But I had left Paige with Jerry, so I was so torn. I went home to my baby.

I got the call early early in the morning that she was gone. On the way to my sister's house, "Come Sail Away": by Styx came on and I just thought, "how appropriate." Anyone who knew my mom knows how much she loved music of all genres and I played the heck out of some Styx during my younger years.

In a span of 13 years, I lost my dad and my mom. To say I clung to Jerry would be an understatement. But he was all I had. My sisters had their own families, I had Jerry and Paige. At least that's what I believed.

I remember feeling so incredibly lost, but I didn't want anyone to see my weakness. I'm not sure that I could fully accept what had just happened.

I handled things the way I always had, "as long as I act like everything is normal, then no one will know." (Told you it was a recurring theme).

We had a memorial service for mom at the church our preacher had moved to, she was cremated, and I had to move on.

In the meantime, there had been several arguments about Jerry's drinking, about his insistence to control all the money, his lack of interest in being an "active" part of his daughter's life.

He worked a full-time job and came home and drank beer until he passed out. Usually right after dinner. I also worked a full-time job and was handling drop off and pick up of our daughter myself. Along with laundry, shopping, cooking. I thought doing it all was what all moms did.  Yes, I had sisters who were married and seemed to have it all together, but it's not like I felt like I could confide in them or even ask them what I should do.  But I know that I absolutely did not want them to think bad of Jerry.

The only normal I ever saw was my sister Dottie and Paul. And let's just say, everyone should have the kind of love they share. Every woman should have a Paul and every man should have a Dottie, or Diane, or Debbie, or even, Terri.

Jerry was no Paul.

But he was all I had. And I loved him. I didn't realize what was happening slowly, how controlling all the money, barely allowing me enough to get what I needed for our daughter, he was laying the groundwork.

His mother flew us out to Oklahoma for Christmas and during that trip, I met Jerry’s best friend and his wife.   We all got along great.  They had a son just a few months older than Paige.

We were all going to the movies one night, the drive-in.  His friend’s wife asked me if I was okay with Debbie being there.  I must’ve looked really puzzled because she said, “you know, Debbie. Jerry’s ex-wife.”

Now, I only knew about his sons mom, who he had a child with and the high school marriage.  I had never even heard the name Debbie.  But I told her I would be fine.  Inside, I was seething.  Engage auto-pilot.  But in my mind I was thinking, “what else has he lied to me about?”

On the way back to his mom’s house from their place I made him stop the truck.  And I asked him if there were any more skeletons in the closet I needed to know about?  He said, “no” and I’m not sure I believed him, but I am sure I wanted to.

We flew back home and resumed our California lives.  Until…………………………..

One day, he said, "your mom is gone, you have nothing left here, (I did, family) you'd rather be in Arkansas anyway, let's go." So, not long after mom's death, we sold everything we owned, packed what we could in a small U haul trailer and left California.

Of course, Jerry drank the whole time he was driving, and I remember being so terrified. He never got drunk, but he was drinking until we would stop for the night. I knew better than to say anything as that would result in a verbal argument and I was not going to argue in front of my young daughter (not quite 2). So, I kept my mouth shut and prayed.

I had to visually make myself see our car as a small child's toy that God had his hand on, guiding to even manage my fear.

We made it through the first mountainous area in the high desert of California when we realized my little 4-cylinder car was not going to pull this U haul all the way to Arkansas. Mom's boyfriend at the time she passed, Paul, lived in Bullhead City, AZ. We took out what we needed from the U haul and left the rest there to pick up later.

We stopped for gas in Albuquerque and we all ran in to use the restroom. We got about 15 miles down the road when Jerry realized he didn't have his wallet. He had put it on top of the car when he was filling up.

We immediately turned around and went back, but it was gone. Along with all of the money we had. EVERY. LAST. PENNY.

I was terrified and angry. How could he have possibly let that