I know in many of my posts I have made my husband seem like an uncaring monster. Sometimes he does seem that way, now, but not in the past.

From the day I met him, part of me knew that the connection he had with his parents was not "normal". I love my Mom anda Dad with all my heart, but I have never been obsessed with them.

After a few months together he told me he would never move out of his parents house, never get married and never have children. He told me he had promised his Mother this at 17, when she asked him to make that promise. It didn't really bother me, (okay red flags should have gone up) we where young and having fun. I wasn't thinking about the future.

I knew then he drank a lot, but an alcoholic never. He had a job, was so cute and clean cut and I loved him. I knew alcoholics came in all shapes and sizes, but not my boyfriend. Even when he got a DUi, and had to go to rehab, I didn't see it. In fact my first Alanon meeting was so pathetic. I went there so upset that he was in rehab. I couldn't understand why the court did that to him. It was so mean. I remember the people telling me he was where he needed to be, and me insisting he was not an alcoholic, and he didn't belong in that place, he belonged with me. His counselor sat down with me, and talked about this disease. God how I hated him. He told me that he wasn't really accepting the program and was going through the motions for the court. I told him he wasn't an alcoholic, and he told me I was wrong. He told me what would happen if he did not accept recovery. This man predicted the furture, step by step. Wow, he should have had a chrystal ball, as the years went on and his predictions came true, I was amazed, for a while hated him more, and as more time went on, wished I had listened to him and handled things differently. He never had a chrystal ball, he just knew the progression of alcoholism. It took years, but I eventually accepted that.

I think back and remember all the warning signs I didn't see. I also see all the good things. I remember a time before we where married, a bunch of us where going to Cancun. I was coaching gymnastics at the time and my team had a big competition that I had never thought they would qualify for. I had to back out of the trip. He went with our friends. One of the guys bought my ticket. I missed him so much, the competition ended and I was still sad. A friend talked me into buying another ticket flying there and suprising him. It was the most impulsive thing I had ever done.

When I got there, the man at the desk called him for me. He came down, and spun me around and didn't put me down for 3 days. I remember the way he looked at me. I have pictures of that time and how he looked at me, a way I haven't seen in years. We where happy. He asked me to marry him on the flight home. Boy did his Mom flip out!

He got so drunk at our wedding, and she tried to take him home with her. Back then, he wouldn't go.

She refered to my first pregnancy as the unfortunate incident, but my husband stood up to her. The last three he seemed to lose the will to stand up for himself or me.

We used to go and play on the swings at night, we still did this in our thirties. We would never go anywhere without holding hands. I remember one of our nieces Communion was on a boat. I walked up top, and someone said they would get me a chair and he said it wasn't needed. He patted his lap and pulled me down on it. His Mom kept insisting that I sit in a chair. That is was innapropriate for me to sit on his lap. We didn't care, more importantly he didn't care.

He used to buy me flowers every chance he got. He worked in Manhatten, so he brought them from the guys on the corner, sometimes three times a week. Then about 7 yeasr ago it stopped. The flowers, the hand holding and the standing up to his Mother. It got so her opinion was all that mattered.

I can't help but think that he is still in there somewhere. That alcoholism and his Mother could not have killed the man I love. Whenever I try to think rationally, I remember the way it was, the way he used to be, the way he used tol ook at me. That he stood up to her and we got married, that he stood up to her and we had children. That he didn't let her control his life back then. That he really did love me.

I think to the man that loved doing things for the kids, who potty trained our oldest three. Who made them lemonade stands, played man hunt with flashlights in the dark with them. Woke us allin the middle of the night to look at stars through a telescope. Tried to give CPR to a little mouse the cat had gotten to. The man who bought me flowers and brought me home my first rabbits when I was down.

He was sweet and wonderful, and kind and compassionate and he looked at me and treated me like I was the only person in the world. He not only won my heart, he became it.

When people ask me why I put up with him. They see him as he is now, they don't understand. The real person is in there, I know it is. That man who spun me around in Cancun is buried under this horrible disease and a controlling Mother. That sweet face is still there under all the bloat from drinking.

When I try and move on, I see a glimpse of what he really is and how it was. I have albums filled with pictures of how he was, before he became angry and bitter and sad. That holds me back, and keeps me from moving on.

                 Love Jeannie