Mystery

Posted on by stilllearning2b

The story of this missing plane just keeps getting stranger. It’s interesting to me to watch how surprised people are that we do not yet have answers. How shocked people are that it remains a mystery even in the face of technology and manpower. We like to read mysteries, not live them. We crave the information that can fit the pieces of the puzzle.

I caught part of an interview yesterday with the wife of one of the passengers. I ached for her. She is caught in limbo, understanding that most likely, she will never see her husband again yet also lacking the concrete information that lets her begin to grieve.The questions, the mystery keep her anchored in maybe. And that’s a horrible place to live.

I know. I lived there myself for a few days. Yes, I had a text and a typed letter when my ex left, but I no information. What he left was worthless, gave no real answers. All I knew was that one moment, I had a husband who said he loved me and couldn’t wait for me to get home and the next, I had a brief electronic communication saying he was gone. Disappeared.

For the first twenty-four hours, I had no information. I didn’t know if he was alive or if the letter was really a suicide note. My mind raced, trying on different scenarios for fit. In some, in walked back in the door and explained it was all a mistake. In others, his body was found in a motel. I couldn’t rest. I needed to know.

As with most mysteries, information dribbled in. I learned that all the money was gone. I found proof of another woman. Then, I figured out what state he was in. That was the point where I first filed for divorce (less than a week after the text). The first go-round, the plan was to file by publication because his true location was still unknown.

And I was still restless. I knew some things, but I still didn’t understand why. And then I learned about Uganda and found some more answers. And then the bigamy, which answered some things and raised more. I was dogged. Determined. I needed to know. I searched for information with the same desperate urge as preteen reading the battle scene in the final Harry Potter. I could not stop turning pages even knowing that I may not like what I would learn.

In the end, that search provided the pieces that I fit into the puzzle years later. I still don’t know if I built it correctly. And I never really will. That search cost me, in terms of additional money spent for the divorce and in time spent playing Sherlock Holmes.

But, when I saw the face of that poor woman on TV last night, it’s a cost I’m glad I spent.

If  it was still a mystery, I would always be wondering.

At least now I know. And I can lay it to rest.

I hope that the families of the passengers on the missing place find answers soon so that then they can work on finding peace.

 

Missing

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I woke up this morning with that dull ache that comes from missing someone. I wasn’t surprised to feel that void – Brock is out of town, I don’t see family much and most of my local friends have a different spring break this year. But the ache wasn’t for any of those people. It was for my ex mother in law.

I got to know my mother in law well over the 16 years I was with her son. She and I even lived together for a couple weeks while the men were away at work. She was a good woman with a giving heart. I always felt a little sorry for her, however. She was always a bit timid. A bit weak. Uncomfortable in her own skin. Almost missing in her own life.

She had a great relationship with her father yet allowed her adult life to be limited by her complicated relationships with her mother and siblings. She was afraid. Of driving. Of crowds. Of new experiences. Of being alone. That last one is probably what kept her in the relationship with her husband, even as his drinking grew out of control and his personality became more abrasive.

She was a caring parent, yet a distant one. She wanted the best for her son, an only child, yet wasn’t always equipped to help him achieve it. She didn’t want to pass her insecurities on to him and she worked hard to avoid that.

My ex had a complicated relationship with his parents as we moved into adulthood. He went long periods without contact, even though they moved to Atlanta along with us and ended up settling two streets over. His tough love approach seemed to work; they stopped drinking at some point. Even then, he didn’t always maintain contact. I’m not sure why, but I always let him be the one to decide how much contact he wanted. After all, they were his parents.

The last time I spoke to his mom was on the phone a couple weeks after he left. He had been arrested for the bigamy and spent a day in jail until his father posted his bail. He was alone that night. He had been caught. His other wife, upon learning the truth, had left him and his computers and car were impounded. He had nothing. He tried to end it all that day, taking an overdose of sleeping pills. Through a very unlikely series of events (serendipity?), my parents and I ended up saving his life.

The next day, I learned from the police that his parents were coming up from Atlanta to pick him up from the hospital. I called them, wanting to reach out and give them any information that I thought might help their son. I wanted them to understand how much help he really needed. I talked to his mom for over an hour. She was in shock. Like with everyone else in our lives, the reality of his double identity stunned her. They just wanted to get their boy home and figure out what to do from there.

We hung up when they arrived at the hospital. She said she would call me back. She never did.

I can’t even fathom the terror and pain of a parent upon discovering that their child is in crisis and a criminal all with one phone call. I worried about her. I still do. At the courthouse, 8 months later, his father was there, stoic and silent, but his mother was noticeably absent. I hope she missing only because she was afraid to face the court, a fear I can easily relate to, but I don’t know.

His parents took him in for a time after the suicide attempt. I don’t know what he told them or what he did, but I’m afraid that they were a victim of his cons as well. I know of one defaulted credit card with a very high balance that had her name on it as well, as it was taken out before he was 18.  I hope they were able to protect themselves even as they tried to help him.

This morning, I missed her. I thought about when we sat on her living room floor, looking through his baby pictures. I thought of her trying out Puerto Rican bread pudding recipes, trying to nail down her father’s favorite childhood dish. I remember her coming in to my first “regular” job at a pet store and immediately falling in love with a young Papillon. I placed the dogs in her arms to handle a customer; she always blamed me for her decision to purchase the puppy:)  I remembered her stories of her early married life in California and the stories of her parent’s courtship. I remembered when she sewed a liner into the white bikini I had foolishly purchased and when she emergency-hemmed my wedding dress in the back of the restaurant where we had our reception dinner.

I miss her. I just hope she isn’t missing from her own life.

A Strange Place to Be

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Note: If you are not familiar with my basic story, please read this first so you have some context.

I received an email the other day from someone, let’s just call him P, proposing an opportunity that would be very beneficial for me as a writer (chugging away on the book every day!!!) and as a wellness coach.

There was one caveat – he would need to locate my ex-husband.  After some deliberation, I agreed and I sent him the contact information that I have.  I also informed him that, as of the last I knew, if you Googled my ex’s name along with the limiting and somewhat giggle-inducing keyword, “bigamy,” you would pull up some articles from 2009 as well as his mugshot.

I kept up with my ex’s whereabouts until the divorce was final, in March of 2010.  I promised myself at that point that I would never look him or his wife up again.  I have held fast to that promise.

Two days after sending P the contact information, I spoke to him on the phone.  He had not had any luck in locating the ex (which I expected), but he did say something that caught me short.

“I did Google his name and I found the articles from 2009 and the mugshot.  I also found some articles from 2010 and 2011.”

Whoa, Nelly.  There’s new information out there.  I think P sensed that I did not want to know the content of what he found and so he did not reveal the nature of the articles.

He then made another comment that was interesting.

“We can’t do this if there are any open cases against him.”

Hmmm…so I guess he has continued his life of crime?  My first thought was for his wife.  I have had a genuine concern that he would try to kill her.

Luckily, that did not seem to be the subject of the articles, as P then said maybe they could locate the wife (ex-wife?) in his place.  I agreed, and gave her (also outdated) contact information.

It’s been several days, and I have not heard from P.  I doubt that either one of them is easily found and willing to share their stories.  Meanwhile, it leaves me in strange place.  I know there is information out there.  I feel like I should be curious.  But, I’m not.  I haven’t wanted to search, haven’t had to check myself to keep from typing his name into Google.

Who knows what will become of this little detour in my saga – will he be found?  will she turn up?  will this opportunity pan out for me?  Who knows…  Regardless, I see my reaction to this as a sign, a sign that I really have moved on.

Note: For any of you that know me personally and know his name, if you choose to do a search, please do not share what you learn.  I really don’t want to trigger the desire to keep up with him again.  Thank you:)