I was the lead role in this little family, before this last accident, but the dependency was overwhelming now.
The more I realized that my life had changed forever, I perceived that Ann was to realize the same in her life.
It was a long recovery period, going back and forth to doctors and hospitals, as I had gone through eight corneal transplants, all of which turned out to be failures.
Even though Ann was resentful, because of the accidents, I do give her credit for her part in my road to recovery.
Her life had taken a radical turn, as I used to be the one in charge of everything.
Her stature was small, but she was a strong woman. She had to be with the sudden responsibilities thrust upon her.
I know that she did the best she could, with what she had.
But our relationship suffered greatly, as her life became so restrained from any of her regular routines.
There was one thing about Ann that was glaring, and that was her insecurity, just living life.
She hats to feel free falling, not having a secure future financially in her life with me.
And, at the same time, I had always felt insecure, all my life, not even knowing what I was afraid of.
Now, here I was, I needed caretaking, and I was a burden to many. And I felt even lower than I did before the accidents.
Slowly, I was getting better, and I finally got up from the wheelchair to using the crutches, again.
I started doing things, anything I could, but that was not much.
I finally conquered the steps, so I could go outside. I did a lot of sitting out there and had much time to think.
Regrets and Shame
I wanted so badly to back up time. I wanted the good old days, where I thought I was free.
I mostly had feelings of missing the classroom, the place I described in the first chapter.
The feelings were so intense that I had a drive to collect every song that was on the jukebox, which was played in the classroom, from 1973, through 1977, just to relive the memories.
I was trying really hard, not to be a burden, and I was trying to be active with the boys.
But, with anything I did, I had regrets and shame hanging over me like a dark cloud.
I was not feeling good about myself, although I never did, and I felt that I was going backwards, in a dismal, controlled future.
The one that was in control now was Ann, and I had no choice but to look to her for guidance, therefore, I became co-dependent on her.
I did a lot of acting, as I tried to please her, and it was not easy most of the time.
I did have feelings for her, and wanted to give her love, but, on a daily basis, it was getting harder and harder to cope with her resistance towards me.
Therefore, I inadvertently made a move towards our future, without planning it.
I took a ride with a relative one day; I asked him to stop at a jewelry store.
I walked into the store, looking like a monster. Both eyes burned with battery acid, casts on both legs, and using crutches.
I barely knew the owner, but looking like I did, and feeling sorry for me, he gave me a great deal on a diamond ring.
I paid him for it and took it home.
I did not plan anything with it, but I knew one thing in my heart.
I knew, with the belief of myself, that with this life change, there would be no other woman on this earth that would want me anymore.
Things were not going very well between us at this time, but everything suddenly changed when she walked into the bedroom where I was.
She came in to tell me something, and without me planning it, I lifted the ring to show her.
Her excitement lit up the room.
She said, “Let’s go to Vegas and get married.”
I said, “Whoa, what brought that on?”
But my insecurity took over, and her excitement was such a pleasant change, that I said, “We might as well.”
Financially, we were all right because the motorcycle accident had already placed me on social security disability, and when the trial work period was about to end, the second accident happened, so they continued me on disability.
THE MARRIAGE
We booked a flight to Las Vegas, and we decided to get married in a courthouse.
When we were saying our vows in front of a judge, the witness was snoring, with a newspaper draped over his head.
After the wedding vows, we ate dinner, then Ann surprised me by wanting to go to bed, to sleep!
I had extraordinarily little vision, but I found my way downstairs to the blackjack table.
I was a site, with these monster eyes, but the server came over to me and asked: “Sir, would you like a drink?”
I said, “Sure, could you bring me a scotch on the rocks please?”
She brought it to me, then I asked, “How much do I owe you?”
I was surprised when she said that it was on the house.
Obviously, this was my first time in Las Vegas.
Well, with the whiskey they freely served me, and the lack of good vision, the casino tapped me out quickly, and I went back to our room, to “Sleep,” on our wedding night.
The marriage did change our relationship.
Ann felt a little more secure financially after the ceremony, but she had just committed to being the spouse of a blind man.
I figured that everything in my life was over as to finding any other relationship in my future, so I had just been relieved to have been married, So now, I had a companion that accepted me for the rest of my life, I thought.
Ann had taken charge of everything, as I was helpless, having gone from fully sighted to eventually going blind.
She had a lot of responsibilities, keeping up the household, paying all the bills, taking me to doctor visits, and having to do all activities with our two children, Cory, and Evan.
Shortly after we got married, in 1982, we bought our first home.
This was an old home, built in 1882, on the highest property in Wayne County.
We made a lot of improvements on this home ourselves.
This got me active and busy again, along with Ann.
We burned wood through the winter, and we worked hard into springtime.
At this point, Ann was in total control of everything, and I was dependent on her.
So, I was in the “Yes dear” mode most of the time.
At the same time, I felt deep self-pity for myself, trying to cover it up at any given moment.
Besides the bottom in the earlier chapter, I remember another one, distinctly.
It was in my recliner chair.
The normal day in our household was to direct our children to watch TV, if they were all home, and Ann was terribly upset over something, complaining to me with every walk bye.
So, I even had much alone time when they were home.
I was depressed, to say the least, and I was still drinking beer.
That was one of the rules of the house.
There always had to be a case of beer on one shelf of the refrigerator. That was part of who I was.
And it was getting harder and harder to have Ann bring it home for me, as my drinking was one of the main complaints she had.
But my argument back to her was very justified in my mind.
I told her: “I’m not hurting anybody but myself, so go get me the beer!”
This seemed to turn into a weekly argument, but reluctantly, she would bring it home for me.
I developed a daily routine.
After dinner, usually around seven PM, I had to wait until the kitchen was empty.
Then I would stand in front of the open refrigerator and decide whether to open the first beer or not.
I drank the first one very quietly, then opened the second one.
After the second one was down, I opened the third one, and it did not matter to me if she saw me drinking that night or not, for I was off and running by then.
My denial was extraordinarily strong as far as the word: “alcoholism.”
I was deathly afraid of that word, for it could threaten my drinking beer. And I could not even comprehend that.
So, I had an attitude of, “Just tell me what you want of me, and I will do it, but my drinking is included.”