 
MY SON the GUARDIAN ANGEL

By LORI FITZHUGH

Copyright 2017 Lori Fitzhugh

Smashwords Edition

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

## Prologue

"Morning Son, what's up?" I asked half awake. I had been in a deep sleep and struggled to come awake as I answered the phone. It was my son Colby.

"I have some bad news." He said.

If my son says its bad news then it is going to be bad. My mind raced with immediate fear.

"Anthony was in a bad accident this morning," Colby said.

"What happened?" I said sitting up fully awake.

"He was in a wreck and there was a fatality. Now Mom, don't flip out, okay. He is okay, but there are legal issues we have to deal with. The girl's name is Beth and she was driving Anthony's rock crawler. The cops stated the vehicle is not street legal. They interrogated him for hours, so let him rest. He is okay right, but it's bad."

"Son, I have to go." I said hanging up the phone. I immediately called Anthony. Little did I know this was now all over the media of Nampa, Idaho. My father found out about the accident just a few minutes after I did via the televised news.

My head was racing with thoughts and I waited for Anthony to answer his phone.

I did not recognize his voice, "Hi, Ma."

"Son, what is going on? What happened? Are you okay? Who is Beth? Who else was with you? " I had massive questions and felt like I needed all the answers immediately.

"Her name was Beth Wendell. I am okay. I'm really upset right now, but I'm okay. Ma, I kept asking her to slow down and she would not. She flipped the rock crawler going around a corner. We were all thrown out. The crawler landed on top of her. Derrick and I tried to lift it off of her, but we couldn't budge it. I ran across the field to find the Suburban to push it off. She died with Derrick holding her. It folded her in half Ma. I could not save her." He began sobbing.

Through sobs of my own I stated, "I am on my way."

"No, Ma, please. Just wait a few days." Anthony asked.

I hesitantly agreed.

I called later that evening and asked Lacy, Anthony's wife, if I should come immediately or wait as Anthony had requested. She advised me to not come stating, "It makes it more real."

More real, I thought. What the hell is more real than life and death? Out of respect for both of them and what they were going through personally - I waited but I have never lived with so much regret.

## Chapter One

It is possible that days exist in our lives when hell is only a step away from heaven. It was May 26th, 2007 when I woke late in the morning. The sun was dancing above the horizon into clear blue sky, pulsating warmth across the fresh air of Idaho's mountain country. I awoke peaceful; and laid there allowing my limbs to luxuriate in the ambiance of this late spring morning. Soon full blown summer would be at hand.

I had no pressing business to attend to today and no serious issue tearing away at my brain matter. The only enticement to rise was to find a good cup of coffee, and drink it outside on my sister's deck while enjoying the smell of fresh blooming flowers.

I was at my sister's in Pocatello, Idaho for a next few day a mini vacation from the ranch where I am living in southwestern Montana that sits in a wide open valley in the middle of the Rocky Mountains.

I was unemployed and in a relationship. The relationship was beginning to spring leaks which left me wondering from day to day what would become of me. Who I had been and what lay before me were on my mind.

I had planned my retirement from my job as a travel agent. I loved my job with SatoTravel but the local office had been closed due to acquisition by another company. I had taken a job with another travel agency telling the manager in no uncertain terms I was gone after my oldest son Anthony was in a car wreck. Anthony was pretty banged up and his friend Beth was killed. My new boss wouldn't give me the time off to go to my son, so I just took it, and now I had no job.

My sister and her husband, Damon, were in San Francisco for the week on business. I was excited to spend time with my niece Kaitlin, a head strong independent sixteen year old with a razor sharp tongue. She was to be my charge for my time here. Her mother had warned, "Keep an eagle's eye on her." I was happy to watch over the petite five foot two inch teen with large brown eyes and hair color that changed week to week and sometimes daily. This was the very same teen who had woken her parents in the middle of the night looking for a razor blade, a cheese grater and sand paper to "age" her jeans. I was secure in the knowledge that my time looking after Kaitlin will not be dull! The night before she introduced me to a wonderful new indulgence as we were watching the movie, "Pirates of the Caribbean, At the World's End," by setting a bowl of fresh made popcorn with peanut M&M's splashed over it between us. I was hooked immediately on the soft fluffy corn that had melted the chocolate covering of the peanuts giving just the right mix of salt. It was heavenly.

My instinct to find a cup of coffee had me searching the kitchen for anything resembling coffee equipment. I ended up with a tepid cup of tea which I took to the porch. Flopping into a porch swing I muse over the fact that my mother hasn't contacted me. The day before she'd flown into Phoenix, Arizona by herself, concerned I had drilled it into her that she must lock all the doors of the rental vehicle and follow all the road signs out of the airport. I was worried and had tried to make sure that she would be safe. I was not pleased that she hadn't gotten back to me.

The twinge of worry dissipated in as a breeze filled my nose with a lingering smell of the purple delphiniums nearby. My sister had out done herself planting a beautiful array of flowers on her patio in an array of bright colors. She had warned me that if Kaitlin and I let her numerous baskets of petunia's and geraniums die for lack of water we would be in big trouble.

I wasn't even halfway through the cup of tea when I knew I had to go find a decent cup of coffee. Throwing on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt I drove down to a local convenience store. Inside the store I was so enamored with the smell of rich brewed coffee coming from the machines against a wall I nearly knocked down a man standing near the door.

"Lori?" He said surprised.

"Josh?" I asked surveying his face, "What have you been up to?" I had not seen Josh for a very long time.

"I had a leg amputated just below my knee. I had an infection in my foot and to make a long story short it spread to the bone. Anyway, I am trying out my new Harley today. You know getting back into the swing of things. Care to go for a ride? "He asked cocking his head and smiling.

"You okay to ride with a prosthetic?

"Sure, this isn't going to stop me living my life."

"That's great. You're right, life goes on and you have to make the best of it. I would love to go for a ride. I am, however, babysitting my sixteen year old niece, need I say more?" We laughed. Sixteen was the key word, we'd all been there. "I will have to be home early."

"Not a problem, I'll pick you up at around five this afternoon."

Back at the house Kaitlin was just crawling out of bed. I tease her about rising before noon and how proud of her I am and then I invited her to have dinner with Josh and I after I get back from my Harley ride. "Let's have a girl day!" I said turning to her. "How about it? I only own business suits and I need something comfortable and fun to wear. Let's go shopping."

Our first stop was at a tanning booth. After drenching our skin in sunlight we went for espresso. While sipping on the hot tasty brew we stopped at the beauty shop. Kaitlin began looking for her next hair color wandering through numerous shades of brown, auburn, bright purples and reds. I notice that it was almost three thirty in the afternoon. I needed to make another stop and gently nudged her out of the beauty shop. We chatted on the ride home.

"Aunt Lori, everyone keeps telling that I should date other people, somebody other than Sal."

"Do you want to date other people?" I asked.

"Not really. I mean, Sal and I have a lot in common and we have gone through a lot. He makes me mad. He doesn't take care of himself but I don't want to tell him what to do. It makes me freaking nuts."

Her question spark a series of stories from me on the ride home, stories I had forgotten about, regarding Anthony, my oldest son and his wife Lacy. As a couple they were the epitome of true love in my book. I decided to give an example to Kaitlin.

"Your cousin Anthony and his wife have been together since they were eleven years of age, a total of fifteen years. It is a love story, Kaitlin; they had lived it all and stayed together. I would have loved to have a daughter like Lacy." As I was telling Kaitlin about the two of them I realized that my son and his wife had something I had longed for all my life.

Kaitlin and I pulled into the driveway of her parent's home around four thirty in the afternoon. "Kate, I have to go change because Josh is picking me up around five. Let's get the car unloaded. I need to check to see if your Grandmother has called from Phoenix."

I let, Ruger, my dog outside for a potty break and glanced at the clock, it was near four forty-five. Grabbing my cell phone I began to listen to my voice mails keeping an eye on the dog as he runs the yard.

"You better get your ass on the next freaking flight and get here now! Your son is being life flighted to St. Alphonsus." It took me a few seconds to realize who was talking. The intensity of Lacy's voice shocked me. It didn't sound like her at all, yet I knew who it was. Panic washed over me and I looked down at the phone as it rang in my hand.

"Are you ready?" It was Josh.

"Josh, get here quick. You have to get me to Boise. My son is being life flighted to a hospital." I hung up without waiting for his answer.

Inside the house I grabbed hold of Kaitlin, "Help me! Get me some clothes in a bag? Call Jasper, your brother, to come and stay with you. Anthony has been in an accident and I have to get to Boise. You will have to take care of Ruger. Please don't let anything happen to him. I don't know how long I will be gone."

Kaitlin was grabbing clothes for me when Josh pulled up. I ran outside throwing some clothes through the sunroof of the vehicle before running back into the house. The phone in the house was ringing.

Kaitlin answered it. "I don't know Grandma, Lori is running around here crazy and screaming. Something has happened to Anthony." Then she turned to me, "Aunt Lori Grandma wants to talk to you."

I grabbed the phone, "Mom, I can't talk. Something has happened to Anthony. I have to go." I hung up the phone and dashed for Josh's car.

The distance from Pocatello, Idaho to Boise is approximately two hundred and thirty four miles, a trip that would take at least three hours. I leaped into the passenger seat and commanded, "Head to Boise, fast!"

Josh threw the car into gear and we headed for the interstate. My cell phone was in my hand and I dialed Lacy's number. She answered and I could tell she was crying. "I'm on my way, " I said."I can drive faster than I can fly. There are no direct flights. I would have to go to Salt Lake or Portland to get to Boise. We are just leaving Pocatello. Calm down honey, they will have him stabilized by the time I get there. Hang on baby, I'm on my way."

Lacy started to speak, her words breaking up as the call was dropped.

"Rats, I lost her, "I said suddenly looking out on the interstate. " Josh, you are headed the wrong way; you're heading to Salt Lake City."

Josh slowed down long enough to flip a U turn in the meridian of the interstate. I busied myself with dialing Lacy's phone. "Damn it, I can't freaking get back to her. Josh drive faster!"

"We just passed a cop, Lori; we are going past the speed limit already."

My ear was glued to the phone as the call finally went through. I rang over and over again anticipation rising in my stomach as I wait for her to answer. Finally she answered. She was sobbing. "Honey I am on my way. I will be there as fast as I can."

"He didn't make it." She cries as the phone once again goes dead.

"Oh, God, no! There is no way God would take one of my babies. Something is wrong." I dial her number again and she answers in a weak voice.

"Where is my son? What is going on?"

"I'm sorry, he is gone."

My legs flew out kicking into the dashboard of Josh's car as I scream, "NO!!! There is no damn way! Someone is lying to me."

I pick the phone up again and search it for my younger son Colby's number. Dialing it I wait for him to answer. "Colby, its Mom. I just called Lacy. Anthony is dead."

"Mom, don't joke about something like that," he said in a rattled voice.

"I'm not joking son. I would never joke about that but they have to be wrong."

A numbness began to spread over me from disbelief coupled with fear. It becomes a searing pain as my heart overtakes my brain. I can't think. I hear a voice in my head but feel as if someone else is in my head talking to me. Suddenly nothing seems real. I get a grip for the moment, "Colby, please get to Boise. We have to help him."

The phone lies in my hand while my mind spins in circles. I pick it up to call my sister, Donna, but I suddenly have no idea what her number is. I fumble around in a labyrinth until the voice in my head tells me to look in my cell under saved numbers. I find it and dial the number, the voice in my head is telling me to breathe. Anthony is okay.

I don't say hello, or introduce myself when my sister answers her phone. "Donna, can you get me to Boise?"

"Where are you? "she said panic edging her voice.

"In a car."

"Are you driving? Lori, answer me! Are you driving? Where are you?"

I can hear her voice but the words make no sense. I know it is my sister's but she sounds as if she is standing at the edge of a cliff and yelling down to me. The voice in my head keeps repeating, "This is not happening. This is not real," it drowns out my sister's voice.

I go to a safe place, deep inside my brain, away from a chaos that threatens my very existence. Only my voice is real, repeating over and over again that Anthony is alive and well. I need to get to the hospital, and once there he will wake up and squeeze my hand like he does every single time he has come out of surgery. He will tell me that he loves me. We have gone through too much together and I know he will be fine. I just need to get there. The drive is taking forever and my face hurts so badly.

"Lori!" My sister yells into the phone drawing me back for the moment. "Are you driving?"

"No, I need to talk to Mom. What is the number?"

"Mom knows,"Sis."

"She knows about Anthony? Well, then she knows he is okay." I say matter of fact. "You just need to get me to Boise. Okay? Just get me to Boise."

"Come to my house, please, sis. Please have whoever is driving, have them bring you to me. Please."

"Okay," I said my mind drifting off as a sailboat on calm water. The voice inside my head is calm. My son is fine. He will be in the hospital for awhile but he will be okay. He will need surgery again. Probably broke that darn wrist for the hundredth again. It will have to be cast and probably have more pins put in. It will be okay though, we are no strangers to this scenario. I will sit beside his bed and read a few books while he gets better. He will probably have to go through physical therapy. Lacy, oh my goodness, poor Lacy, she has to be so upset. I have to get to her.

"God Josh, can't you drive any faster?" Why is time crawling? The world is suddenly quiet? No music plays, there is no sound from the other cars whizzing by on the interstate, only this voice in my head.

"Lori, what exit do I take?" Josh asks.

I know we are almost to her house. She had better be ready. I will jump in her car and just take off without her, if she isn't ready to go. I can't handle anyone driving slowly. A turtle could crawl faster than Josh is driving. I'm sure my sister will understand when I leave because I can't wait on anyone. I have to get to Boise and all of life is moving in slow motion. I must get to Boise.

"Lori, can you hear me? I don't know which exit to take." Josh said reaching over to shake my shoulder. I look at him. "Lori you're not answering me. Do I turn here?" He shakes me again.

"Yes," I said engaging for the moment. "I think you take this exit and go down that road."

Some part of me has disengaged from everything. I don't even know if he heard me, or if my voice came out this time. Did he ask me something? I am swimming in a fog that has claimed my gray matter. My brain isn't functioning.

As we pull up to my sister's I realize it is familiar but encased in the heavy fog. Is there really a fog out now or is it just inside my head. Nothing is real.

In a matter of seconds from Josh pulling into the driveway of Donnas' house I am opening the door. My sister and her husband stare at me.

"Why are you not running with your bags in hand and jumping into the car? Is Richard going? He doesn't have any shoes on." I am thinking but words aren't coming out of my mouth. No one seems to understand the urgency here, how important it is that I hurry to my son. My head pounds and the fog in my head has thickened to the point that I need a lamp to navigate. "I have to call the kids and let Anthony and Lacy know that if Donna and Richard would get ready that we could be on our way. "Get it together please," I say before turning and running outside.

I can't breathe. I throw myself into the green looking grass searching it for fresh air to fill my lungs. My phone is in my hand and I dial Lacy's phone. I want them to know I will be there soon. A male voice. "Who is this?"

"Lori, it's Tyler. Are you on your way?"

"Tyler? Who?" It took a second before I recognize the voice of one of my son's best friends. "Yes, tell Anthony that I will be there soon. Is he going to be alright?"

"Mom, he's gone," Tyler said in a voice that trailed into softness.

I scream into the phone and the next thing I know is Richard is picking me up off the ground. "Leave me here until you get your shoes on, damn it! I need to get to Boise." I yelled at him. Why is no one hearing me?

Donna gets me into her car. My phone rings and I answer it. It is Curtis, my ex-husband and now good friend. His voice is dry and cracks, "Lori, I am so so, so sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. Anthony is okay."

"No, Lori, he is not. You have to realize he is not okay."

"Why is everyone lying to me? Why can't everyone just leave me alone right now? I know he is fine. I just want to get there. Now!

Time is crawling, I feel as if I have been in this car forever. My son needs me by his side. Please go faster. Sis. Where is Richard?" I thought Richard was going with us. I see fields, big wide open fields. Where are we?

"Lori, are you okay?" Donna queried shifting her eyes from the road to look over at me.

"Sure, why do you keep asking me if I'm okay?" I said in response to her worried gaze.

"I bought you a sandwich. Can you eat this please?" She pushes a wrapped package toward me.

"Eat? No, I can't eat, please just go faster."

I want to jump out of the car and run to my son. I could get there faster. This is all taking too long. I am in a time warp; my whole world has stopped spinning. Minutes are hours. The sun has been dragged below the earth leaving darkness to surround us. The quiet is maddening.

I remember December, six months earlier, when I had flown into Boise to be with Anthony. He was having surgery done on his wrist for the fifth time. The medical team was putting in titanium pins this time. We said our usual words before surgery. I did a silent prayer, gave him a big kiss and said, "See ya soon." Like I had done since he was little.

I remembered how anxious I was for the medical team to advise me when he was taken to the recovery room. When I joined him, I squeezed his hand to let him know I was there. He opened his eyes and squeezed my hand back. Repeating over and over, "I love you. Thank you for being here."

He will be fine as soon as I get to the hospital.

During that surgery Lacy had gotten ticked off at me. She had worked the graveyard shift the night before the procedure and had gone out to the car to sleep while he underwent surgery. I hadn't gone out and woken her when he came into the recovery room. She was hotter than a Habanera pepper when she came into his room and found him awake and me beside him. I knew I would never make that mistake again. Lacy had missed Anthony waking up, but not the moment when he looked down at his chest to see the marks left there from where the monitor had been attached. My son was always so funny. He always made me laugh. He looked me in the eye and said, "Ma, I think that old lady nurse was sucking on me!" Lacy and I giggled. Our Anthony was back!

This time he might be in the hospital a long time and I knew she would be there the whole time with me, the two of us making sure he would be okay.

"Sis, do you know how to get to the hospital? Sis!" Donna said her voice a sharp note that got my attention. I have no idea what hospital we were going to. She is on the phone talking to someone who is giving her directions.

The architectural facade of the hospital comes into view as Donna pulls into a parking spot near the emergency room door. I fly out the car door and into Ale's arms.

"Hi love, how is my son?

He says nothing and I watched as several of Anthony's friends began filing into the hospital. He puts his arms around me and I grabbed hold of my sister's hand. I feel the pressure as his hand comes under my arm. I am confident that when I walk into his room my son will wake up. With each step I take towards the hospital I repeated to myself, "He will wake up. He will wake up. He will wake up. He just needs me here. He will squeeze my hand, tell me "Thank You" and that he loves me and everything will be fine.

Supported by Ale and my sister I am guided into a small room in the emergency room.

Lacy is sitting next to my beautiful son who lies on a table. She has a blanket over her head and lifts it as I enter, her features are weighted and her eyes swollen from crying.

A scream floats over my lips. It rips out of my throat, an involuntary violent roar from inside as I fall to the floor. This is not real. This is not happening. My Anthony is not dead. I lay on the cold floor unable to move. I can't feel my legs. Did I pee my pants in my panic? Ale leans over helping me to stand and puts his arms around me as I walk to the gurney where my son lays motionless. The room is suddenly cold and my son lying quiet as if sleeping. I must implore him to move.

"Please wake up, baby. Please wake up. Open your eyes! I want you to hold my hand. Please God. No, not my son. Anthony, please, please just open your eyes."

I placed my hand in his and wait for him to squeeze it. I need him to let me know he is still here. "I love you. I want you to wake up. Don't leave me, please don't leave us."

I look over at Lacy, her face veiled in a host of confusing and helpless thoughts. I grab hold of her and pull her tight against me. In a moment's notice we are sobbing and staring at each other in disbelieve. I look toward my sister, Oh, my God, my sister. How could I put my sister through this? I should have asked her to sit in the lobby. I grab hold of her crying.

Lacy bends over Anthony's chest and as she does I see the tattoo of an angel prominent along her shoulder. I remember telling her about how Colby and Anthony had gotten tattoos that meant brothers forever. Lacy had proposed that we get tattoos as well and we had agreed on an angel on one of our shoulders. Due to an expectant surgery, Lacy went ahead and got hers. I still hadn't gotten mine. Now bent over her dead husband she looked like a crushed angel. Donna left the room and A ushered Tyler and Chris out leaving Lacy and I alone with Anthony.

"I stayed with him, Mom. I stayed with him. He was warm at first and I stayed with him and felt him grow cold." She began sobbing and I took her into my arms.

"What happened? Why couldn't they save him? All I could think about was all this new technology and they couldn't save him. I moved beside him and lay across his chest as deep and inconsolable sobs shake my body. "This is a bad dream. This is not really happening. Please wake up baby, baby please, please wake up. Please open your eyes.

Donna and Ale are back in the room watching me as I begin examining my son's face. I touched his eyes, his arms, and his chest. There is dried blood in his ears and nose. There are tubes coming out of his body everywhere.

Lacy is beside me, her voice a monotone. "We washed his face, Mom. I didn't want you to see him until he was washed up." She looks frail, her limbs cloaked in a helplessness that seems to be holding her up.

"You are so sweet, thoughtful and special," I say in a voice that falls flat. A strange calm replaces the wild desire to scream. I no longer want to yell and throw everything around the room.

Chris, Tyler and Derrick are back in the room and standing around my dead son. Chris was one of Anthony's friends from Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. Tyler had become one of Anthony's best friends while living in Boise as well as Derrick. Chris and Derrick had both been with Anthony when he wrecked. Each young man in turn addressing what was left of a man they had known, loved, respected and looked up to.

In the blink of an eye my whole world had changed. The sweet morning smell of flowers and the sun light on the patio that had begun this day. Now all that was left was a memory of what it felt like to be fresh and alive.

I wanted him to wake up. I wanted to wake myself from this nightmare. It had descended into over a day that had started on such a fine note.

A nurse enters the room. "Does everyone have to be in here?" She said in an authoritative tone.

Her utterance struck me as a lightning bolt. Didn't she know how long it had taken me to get here? How time had stood still? How I'd wanted to run all the way here to be with him.

"Oh my God! This is my son. Get out of here!" I yell. I lean over and pull off a shoe and toss it in her direction. "What the hell does she think? This is my son."

"Everything is fine." Ale said intervening. He moves toward the nurse to shoo her from the room.

Lacy comes beside me talking in a soft tone. "Mom, it is time to go."

"I can't, I can't leave him."

"Mom, I will not leave you. But he is not here anymore; his body is just a shell. It is just a shell, he is gone and we have to go now."

My knees give way and I fall to the floor beside the gurney begging one last time. "Oh God, baby, please open those big beautiful blue eyes. Please open your eyes. Please wake up."

The room empties again leaving Lacy and I alone. "Mom," she pleads in a calm voice, "It is time to go. Please. He is gone and this body is now a shell."

I rise to my feet sobs rattling my body in uncontrollable quakes of sadness as I am led out of the cold room.

Donna drives us all back to house that Lacy and Anthony lived in. I stay inside the car as we pulled into the driveway of my son's house. I am frozen here watching Lacy climb out to stand in the driveway. She is crying looking over the empty windows and closed door. "This is not my house, this is our house. This is not my house."

"Lacy, do you want to go to a hotel?" Donna asks.

I sit in the car thinking of how sweet my sister is and wondering how anyone can even think clearly. The fog that overtook my mind over this endless journey is growing even deeper. I am in a horrible nightmare that I can't wake from.

I picture Lacy and Anthony upstairs sleeping. I am in a dream and they are sleeping with the dogs snuggled at the end of their bed. Why is my sister here, why is she at my son's house?

I climb out of the car and am guided into the house. I find myself lying on the bed upstairs with Lacy beside me. I am curled around her, behind her, holding her as Anthony would have, my sister curling up behind me and holding me as well. We remain like this all night, a long night filled with our tears, each of us taking turns at crying and then falling quiet; a roller coaster of highs and lows. Tears would roll from my eyes and then peace would come over me, and then the tears again, and then the strange peace. Fits of sleep come and go. In one moment I felt Anthony squeezing my hand, just like I knew he would. I spring awake knowing he was here. Is this just a bad dream? I call upon God begging, "Give him back to me, I want him back. I will do anything if you give him to me. I would even sell my soul to the devil. Please just give him back."

I wake for the hundredth time to daylight streaming in through the window of the bedroom. My body aches from grief. Feelings of sorrow leaving bruises in the inner most muscles of my body. I feel as if I did not sleep a wink.

The bad dream follows me into the lovely sunshine of a new day. I am nested between Donna and Lacy and find a way to slip out without waking them. I go downstairs and immediately outside onto the patio.

Life lays around me like a mosaic of shattered splintered glass. I want to run. Run anywhere to get away from a pain that pricks the tender lining of my inside; sorrow circling in every thought like vultures that eat me alive.

I grab my cell phone and begin reviewing my messages. There are two from Josh, "I can't quit thinking about you. Please call me," and another, "Do you believe in fate?"

I start down my phone list contacting my girlfriends.

Cathy does not answer so I leave her a message: "Anthony is gone, Cathy, he was here and now he is gone. He died. I really need you right now. Can you call me?"

I get Stephanie and Sabrina's voice mail. I keep saying he is dead and even repeating it doesn't make it real. I feel sick from a constant motion inside my head and heart, like a carnival ride on which everything I love is ripped away from me.

I emailed my friend, Susan. I advised her that Anthony was dead and I would not be able to come back to Butte, to play the Madam in a play she wrote called Scarlett Ribbons. Susan had done a great deal of research and was doing the play to raise money for the Dumas Brothel in Butte.

My thoughts fly about with no direction in this perpetual fog. I emailed another close friend Lesli Loeschern. Anthony had always adored her. He asked me one time if anything were to happen to me or Grandma, could he live with Les.

I sit on the patio because I have to be outside. I need a world still and fresh to keep these bereft feelings at bay. Someone is saying that David, Anthony's father, is on his way. My mother is coming and they are wondering where my brother is. Colby is supposed to be on his way.

I don't want anyone to come. I want to wake Anthony up before Colby get's here. He needs to be protected right now. My mother should not be here either. Everything needs to stop. If I could just wake up, stop this horrible scream in my head that gets louder and louder, stop this world that is spinning out of control. Stop this bad dream.

"Sis?"

I turn at the sound of a voice and see my sister Kathi, her face engraved with pure agony and pain and beside her my mother whose face is white as an Easter lily.

"Will you wake him up, Sis?" I don't know where he is sleeping but I could not wake him up. Anthony and I always knew that you could do anything. If anyone can wake him up, you can. Don't you remember the time I broke the key off in a lock on my storage shed? I could not get the broken key out, and Anthony said, "Just wait Aunt Kathi will fix it, she can fix anything!" Can you please wake him up for me? I think he must be waiting for you? Oh, Grandma he is waiting for you too. He will do anything for you. Anthony loves you so much and he would never let anyone hurt you. He will wake up if you ask him."

People are coming in and out of the house. Time means nothing to me; it stopped with that first message yesterday. Yet messages are delivered to me on the spot. My friend Cathy is on her way and so is Stephanie. Colby and Curtis are here but I don't move from my chair on the patio. I can't resist the heavy dark fog that is settled over my limbs. I can't find my way out.

I am handed the phone. I talk to people but I don't recognize the voices. "He would be proud of you." "We are so sorry for your loss."

Everything and everyone is filtered through the constant scream in my head. I want Anthony to come out here and hug me. I am at his house and he always comes outside. We should have coffee together, here in the sunshine on this beautiful day. He loved his morning coffee. If I make coffee perhaps he will wake up.

Thoughts go through my head but I am not sure I speak them or they are stuck in this deep dark nightmare. I hear Joshua and Ale discussing flight times and who will be responsible for picking up people arriving at the airport. Anthony's close friend from high school and a man I claim as my own son, Michael, is on his way from Costa Rica. I know they stated one of my best friends, Stephanie, would be arriving as well, but I think they said tomorrow.

My son, Colby, comes beside me. We can go to the mortuary later this evening and see Anthony. We can say our good-byes and make the memorial arrangements."

God, this can't be real. I know that this is not really happening. Anthony's house is full of people with numerous long time friends coming and going including his father, his Uncle Mark, Chris, who was with him when he wrecked, and his close friend, Tyler. Anthony's Aunt Lisa stands over me. "Come to dinner with us, Lori."

"I am not leaving Lisa. I am not hungry. I'm not eating."

"You need to eat something Sweet Pea or you won't be able to be here for anyone," Lisa said adamant.

Sweet Pea, she called me Sweet Pea. I had not heard her say that for many years. She used to say that when she took care of Anthony. Lisa was amazing and helped me take care of Anthony when he was a baby. She skipped a lot of school to help us out. She loved that little guy so much.

## Chapter Two

I was born in the sleepy little farm community of Burley, Idaho on December 4th, 1964 to Loretta and Ray Fitzhugh. Our residence was across the river from the small town of Heyburn. My parents had moved to Idaho from Arizona.

Burley is located in the southern portion of Idaho. It is the county seat for Cassia County. Some notable people have come from Burley. Byrant "Babe" Hiskey, retired PGA tour professional Golfer. Ron Romanick, former Major League baseball pitcher for the California Angels. Jazz bassist with the Keith Jarrett Trio, Gary Peacock to name a few.

Heyburn was named after Weldon Heyburn, a U.S. Senator from Idaho from 1903 -12. Heyburn was known for the large potato processing plant owned by J. R. Simplot. Its economy is influenced by Twin Falls and in recent years it has become the location for several large corporate businesses.

My father was an auto body man by trade and had built our little residence.

I had two beautiful older sisters, Donna born December 5, 1958 and Kathi October 30, 1960.

One of my fondest memories at that house when I was around two years of age was being naked and climbing into the laundry basket with warm fresh clothes out of the dryer. I enjoyed all the stuffed animals which covered my twin bed, considering them real pets. I became really angry at my father one night when he came home after drinking with friends and threw them all on the floor and then passed out.

My mother tells me that as a child I was extremely imaginative. I had two invisible rabbits according to her and I would throw horrible fits at dinner time if they were in a chair and someone sat on them.

We owned two lovely German Sheppard dogs, Lady and Shep. Lady was blonde colored and around nap time I would curl up on her and go to sleep. One day two sheriffs showed up and took Lady and Shep away. I was devastated and could not understand why they would take them. My father told me that they were killing the neighbor's sheep so they were going to be put to sleep. I found out years later that Shep went into the Air Force and Lady went to a good home. When I inquired to my father why he did not tell me the truth as a child, he replied sadly that he told me what would be the easiest thing for me to accept.

My parent's close friends were Bill and Edna Church. They had baby lambs and I loved going to their house and feeding the little cuties with a bottle. If I was mad at my mother, I would put my kitten in the hood of my jacket and walk the long road down to Edna's with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in hand.

Our close neighbors were the Barengredts. They had several children on their farm and a baby skunk for a pet. I loved going to their house to play. Carmen Barengredt was often our babysitter when my parents wanted social time.

We had two horses, cats and my father took a lot of pride in what he did. He eventually built my mother a nice fish pond out back with large gold fish in it.

Older sister Kathi loved to instigate and I was often in trouble from pranks at a young age. My sister would send me under the barbed wired fence to fetch the neighbor boy to come over and play at our house. We did it this way because if he left his yard his father would often chase him with a broom. One day I climbed under the fence to retrieve the neighbor boy and on the way back through the fence I caught my jeans on the electric barbed wire fence. I learned from that and still have a nasty scar on my tailbone from it. That was my first discovery of Karma!

I have a vivid memory that haunts me to this day, and it clarified for me why I have grown up claustrophobic. My father and a friend of his came home one night from drinking. His friend, Andy thought it would be funny to hold me down at the age of two and blow smoke into my ear. I recall him laughing and joking on whether or not the smoke would come out the other side. My father was not happy about this and advised Andy that he was not funny. I still dislike the smell of cigarettes.

Around three years of age on a beautiful spring day my father came into the house and yelled loudly for me to hurry outside. I ran out and arrived in time to see my colt, Master Jack being born. He was a rich dark brown colt with one brown eye and one blue eye.

My father realized his family was growing and so we moved from Heyburn to Burley in search of a larger home. We rented briefly then moved to Grandview Lane into a large older brick house with an orchard and large pasture for the animals.

My sister Donna was always finding stray animals, or they were finding her, but we always had plenty of animals around and that meant chores as well. My dad cursed often at the darn goat my sister had to have. If Donna wanted a new animal she would simple tell my father, "Please! I don't' have one of those."

My sister Kathi became the peacekeeper between Donna and I. Our birthdays were six years and one day apart but we were opposites. Donna cared what other people thought of her, she was beautiful and always a classy dresser. I didn't care with people thought of me. I was happy playing in a pile of rocks looking for that one special one rock or sitting on the back of my horse.

I hated being indoors and spent as much time as possible outside. I got into trouble in the third grade, for god's sake because I was throwing worms on the boys on the playground during a rain storm.

By the time I was in my teens I often told my sister, "If someone wants to talk about me, I will give them something to talk about!"

We lived in a lovely neighborhood and I feel that I had a pretty typical childhood with the exception of 'the dark days'.

I had a large group of girlfriends. Gina, Wendy, Lisa, Marlene and Cathy all lived at the bottom of the hill. The Assons and Andersons lived across the street. There were plenty of kids to play hide and seek with and get into a bit of mischief with. There were six children in the Asson family, all close in age and they all became quick friends.

Gina and I went to Brownies together and then Girl Scouts. Gina and I both joined the gun club at a young age and thought we were pretty cool to be able to shoot guns. Gina was a better shot than I. She had beautiful with long dark hair, a fabulous voice and loved to play the guitar. Her mother, Helen, was a close friend of my mothers and a local school teacher. They had a fun little dog named D-For. When I questioned Helen how the dog got his name she told me "D for Dog." I thought it was quite comical coming from a school teacher.

My friend Marlene and I were both creative and I will never forget the time we made our own perfume. We took all her mother's expensive colognes, mixing and matching them until we had the perfect smells. We were quite proud of ourselves until her mother came home and found out what we had done.

Out closest neighbors were the Schells. Mr. Schell owned a trucking company and was gone a lot of the time. My mother became close friends with Fern. Their birthdays were on the same day. They had a daughter named Debbie and a son named Mike. Mike was on the quiet shy side of life. Debbie was beautiful and had a contagious laugh. She was our babysitter.

My parents had an active social life and loved entertaining. We had a large home with a huge family room with a pool table and plenty of room for guests. However, this house was haunted. I can recall numerous night of waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of pool balls going down the shoots on the table. I would rise from bed with an eerie ominous dark feeling and walk into the family room to find the balls all scattered across the table. We always made sure they were put away before bed. The house was flat out haunted. I use to find a lot of arrow heads in the pasture and decided that maybe someone had died on the place in earlier years and they were unsettled. I had disturbing dreams about someone being killed in the room where I slept. Or where I tried to sleep, many a night I was too afraid to go to sleep because of the nightmares.

On October 4, 1969 my youngest brother James was born. He was a cutie with dark brown hair and a mischievous smile. I celebrated his arrival because I was tired of hearing my parent's state, "You should have been a boy." Yes, my mother and father had hoped for a boy when I came along and they were blessed with an obstinate little girl. They finally had their boy.

After Anthony died I had a horrible time remembering my childhood. My life seemed so dark and desolate. As I began writing this book the most beautiful fun and wonderful moments filled my mind; slowly at first and then in a rush. The only really bad memories are associated with "My Dark Days." My father was an alcoholic. I have memories of hearing my mother crying out at night for my father to stop hitting her. My sister and I would hide in the closet until we felt it was safe to come out. We would tiptoe around the house looking for my mother. We often found her hiding in our cedar library under the desk with a chair pulled up to cover her. She would have bruising around her neck where my father had tried to choke her.

One night we had made a series of tents along the close line of the Asson's so we could all sleep outside. My mother came and gently woke us up, putting my two sisters and my brother into the back seat of the Cadillac. We began the journey to my grandparent's house in Arizona. My father had gone on a drunken rampage again and beat on my mother. The bruising was getting worse. I did not have any shoes with me on this trip, just a few clothes my sister's had packed. As we slipped away along the interstate highway that night I was devastated by the fact that I didn't have any shoes. Every place we stopped had a sign that said, "No shoes, No service." My mother would make me go in anyway and I was petrified that I would be kicked out and embarrassed. To this day I always have several pairs of shoes. I will never be without shoes again. If I am depressed I go in for shoe therapy. It is my motto.

I could never understand how my father could be Jekyll and Hyde. He was the sweetest man ever until he got on the whiskey and then he became abusive. He was never abusive to us children. I never got spanked and if I knew I was in trouble I would take off for awhile and let the heat die down. My father never even raised his voice to me until I was eighteen and attempting to change the battery in my car.

Dad had put a new coat of paint on my Chevy Malibu convertible but it needed a new battery. He kept telling me he would get to it tomorrow and tomorrow never seemed to come, so I decided to do it myself. I had my girlfriend reading out of a book.

"Okay," She stated, "Do not hook the positive cable to any part of the car body." I heard, "Connect the positive cable to the car body." Sparks flew and I slammed the hood and ran. Mike Jones, a dear friend, came to the rescue. He was driving by and saw me duck and run and knew something was up.

Mike and the local judge use to go out and party together. I would go along and never got carded, most likely because we were with the local judge. One night my girlfriend Becky and I went out with the judge. The judge got hammered and passed out while riding around in my convertible. So Becky and I left him Mike's doorstep.

I was not a calm child. I had to be doing something all the time. My sister Donna would yell at me, "Sit, please just sit and be calm! You don't have to be doing something every second." But I did.

I loved the four seasons, art classes, reading, math and creative writing. In the fall the trees made huge piles of leaves for jumping in, and Halloween gave everything a dark mysterious feeling. Bats, witches, black cats and the harvest moon were the perfect setting at our haunted house. I had no problem writing up stories of witches in our orchard and the ghost who lived in our attic. There was an old lady that I could see sitting in our other room.

The house was heated with coal and the furnace room terrified me. My sister Kathi broke both her arms one day jumping into the coal bin. My mother had accidentally locked us of the house and Kathi having no fear and knowing she could accomplish anything she set her mind too, decided to jump into the coal bin to unlock the door. When she jumped she used her arms to break the fall and broke one arm and her other wrist. When my mother left to rush her to the hospital I sat on my mother's bed and prayed she would live. I thought for sure if you went to the hospital you might not be coming home. I was relieved when they walked through the door. Kathi with two casts and alive! The casts never even slowed her down. She played, helped with the chores and even went horseback riding with me.

I was active throughout my grade school years. There was something going on every night of the week after school. I took dance classes from Julie. She was a great teacher and choreographer. I joined the bowling league with the encouragement of Heidi Asson. Our league name was the Gutter Gussies. I was shocked the first year when I got a trophy for the highest average. The first and only trophy I ever received. Ha, don't get me wrong, I had plenty of blue ribbons for track and gymnastics. My ceramics were at the local county fair every year. One year when I was around ten or eleven I helped my sister Kathi and her friend steal cowboy hats during the county fair. Kathi and her friend would flirt with the cowboys and try to see how many hats they could snag. My job was to go up the cowboys and whisper, "Hey mister." When the cowboy bent down they would grab his hat and we would all run. Once we started finding price tags on the insides of the hats we quit. Those were expensive hats. My father found out and told us to give them back. We had no idea how to find those cowboys again.

My sister Kathi was good at playing the piano and could play by ear. My piano lessons were short lived. I never learned how to read sheet music and had a hard time dedicating myself to learning because I was jealous that she could play without lessons. She had a lovely voice and began to sing with a local band at night in the clubs. She wasn't even old enough to legally be in the bar, so after a set would play, she would have to wait outside until they started up again.

My sister Donna is very artistic. She was good at painting people. I loved art but could not draw or paint. I was fascinated by what she was able to do. She could paint and draw anything and everything. So again I didn't focus on it because it was easy for her and hard for me. I was always in search of my talent, something I was good at that would be easy and natural for me.

I loved gymnastics and the balance beam routines. I think I got balance from walking along our wobbly horse pasture fence line as a child. I was not good at baseball, and Tish Correa was always such a great sport. She would swing the bat for me and I would run the bases. We had quite a fun group of friends to run amuck with. Being in a small town, we were all friends and there was always mischief and mayhem to be had.

All through my years of grade school and junior high I had great teachers and mentors. Mr. Parish was one of my favorite teachers. He always encouraged me to write and loved the stories I would share with him. I was happy to find that I was good at writing and poetry.

I found something I was good at one day, but decided it was best not to share it with anyone. I was good with energy fields. If I was outdoors, I saw energy fields around everything as light. I knew that I could run my hand through them and move them. I learned that I was close to what is termed, 'the veil." I often saw spirits and was able to hear them. I had some wonderful spiritual experiences. However, playing with a Quija board one night with my friend Tani left us petrified. I never touched that board again and I would bet money Tani didn't either.

At eight years of age I met a new friend named Lori Hansen. My mother was close to her mother and I enjoyed hanging out at Lori's house. She taught me how to ride motorcycles taking me out through the farmer's fields and along the ditch banks. We always found plenty to do climbing rocks, riding horses, and chasing boys. I never knew what exactly we were going to do with the boys but at that age it was fun to tease them.

Todd was the first boy to call me at home. I realized my father had picked up the phone in another room and was petrified so I hung the phone up quickly. Of course, he called back. My father was not happy that boys were calling me at home in the third grade.

Thank goodness my father never knew that Lori and I would baby sit together and call up the boys giving them an address down the street. We would tell them we would be waiting outside and then hid in the living room watching out the window and giggling as they rode up and down the street looking for us.

Winter of that year brought a heavy snow fall. Rick Asson and I decided it would be fun to roll huge snowballs and put them in the middle of the road in the middle of a hill. That way when the driver came around the corner they would not see the snowball until it was too late, and they would get stuck. We hid in our snow fort and giggled until the police came. Gary Asson, Rick's father had gotten the call. He made us stand in opposite corners of the living room to think about what we had done. Thirty minutes of quiet and that one was over. I'm sure we moved to something else soon after.

Winter in Idaho is long. The enchantment and anticipation of Christmas took up a lot of my time. I loved making Christmas pictures, cutting snowflakes from paper to decorate the large picture window and smelling the numerous cookies and candy being made. My mother always made a batch of each of our favorite cookies. I ate a lot more of her delicious peanut butter fudge than I did the cookies. The house was full of holiday cheer with laughter and plenty of alcohol for mixed drinks if guests stopped by. I would spend hours watching out the window for Santa. Hard ribbon candy was placed around the house in small candy dishes. I loved the look of the candy ribbons and the colors. I never ate it though because it was not covered in chocolate.

Seasons come and go and as a child I had few cares or worries. But at the age of thirteen all that changed when my mother announced that she was divorcing my father. keep my horses? My mother was happy with my soon to be step dad. I was happy for her but I also found myself consumed by loss and loneliness.

I began babysitting, working often so that I wouldn't be at home. My sisters were of dating age and worked at the local car wash so they were gone a lot. Home didn't feel like home. My brother was often at his friend's house.

My friend Lori got a brand new Camaro and we discovered boys. The local pizza parlor had all the fun new games like Pac Man, Asteroids and was the coolest place to hang out. Lori and I would often ask the boys for quarters to play the games. When we had enough money for gas we would sneak off to Twin Falls. Being young teenagers it seemed so much more fun to chase boys in other cities.

I got my driver's license and often noticed my Dad's truck at a local pub. Knowing he had a few runs ins with the local law over drinking and driving I would move his truck a few blocks away. Then he had to get a ride home from Grandpa Holmes. Oh, Lordy was that ever an adventure taking a tour around town with Grandpa who would have one foot on the brake and one on the gas and always a little whiskey to go with it.

I met David Pica, my son Anthony's father, at a house party that my friend Lori and I were not supposed to be at. He had gorgeous eyes and was two years older than me. Minico High was across the river and we began dating. Lori was dating his best friend, and from that moment forward the boys kept us busy with prom nights, movies and rock climbing, all the typical teenage adventures and young love.

My freshman year Robert Parks moved to town. He was fun! I broke it off with David and began dating Robert. He was blonde, blue eyed, drop dead gorgeous and from Southern California. He drove a pearl white Camaro and loved to dance. We often would sneak off to Twin Falls and go to the disco to listen to Donna Summers and dance. Saturday Night Fever was the hit for movie night. At the Disco Dock Robert and I won many dance contests. I loved Robert but was dealing with mixed emotions about David. David fought for me and won. I went back to him and two months later I found out I was pregnant.

I was filled with fear and anxiety, yet anxious to have something of my own, a child. I trudged forward with pride. My baby would be mine.

Robert wanted to marry me but I declined explaining to him that the baby was David's. Robert did not care. He showed up at my mother's place of employment and told her he wanted to marry me. She advised him it was my choice.

I was not happy in my relationship with David as he cheated often, but stayed believing that it was the right thing to do. Years later Robert and I got back together. We loved each other and stayed connected in numerous ways until his death.

## Chapter Three

October 28th, 1980 my son Anthony was born. I was one month shy of me turning sixteen.

I called my mother at approximately 2:15 in the morning. "Mom, I am in labor."

"You are having contractions?" Mother asked.

"Yes, and they are two minutes apart."

"Roland and I are on our way."

My mother and step-father picked me up at my apartment for the forty-five minute drive to the Twin Falls Hospital.

"Drive Faster!" I yelled at my stepfather from the back seat. My contractions were two minutes apart and I was in an incredible amount of pain. I yelled at him all the way to the hospital. I was admitted into the hospital and immediately I thought of my sister, seven months earlier she had given birth to my niece April. She was in labor for seven hours so once admitted, I recall looking at the clock and thinking I had six more hours to go.

A nurse entered the room and pushed on my stomach. I yell at her that I would punch her if she touched my stomach again. "What is wrong with that woman?" I asked my mother. A few minutes later the nurse came back in the room.

She took hold of my medical bed and began wheeling me down the hall, "We are going to have a baby."

Anthony was born at 6:00 a.m. and weighed exactly seven pounds. The doctor announced that it was a boy and that he had a cleft palate. I did not know what a cleft palate was, so I asked the doctor again. "What do you mean he has a cleft palate?" The doctor responded and the nurse whisked my baby out of the room.

Within minutes my mother was in my room, "Roland had a heart attack. I do not know whether to stay here or go to Boise with Roland." I told her to go to Boise that I would be fine.

I felt horrible because I felt it was my fault that he had a heart attack. I had yelled at him all the way from Burley to Twin Falls.

The next three weeks were hard for my mother. She would stay with me for awhile and then she would drive to Boise to be with Roland.

Anthony was a beautiful child with big blue eyes. I took him for his two week check up and he now weighed only 6 pounds. With the cleft palate, he was unable to suckle and was losing weight. The doctor asked me what I had done to create the cleft palate. I told him what an idiot he was and that I would not be coming back. I left feeling horrible. What if I had done something to create the cleft?

Desperate I found another Doctor locally in Burley. Dr. Holmes had just recently moved to Burley from Texas. He advised me to go to a farm store and buy a lamb's nipple. He said, "It is a big ugly black nipple that you can put over a soda bottle. It will be soft and the baby will be able to eat." I did as he said and went back the next week. Anthony was back up to 7 lbs.

My mother and I sought out a surgeon and went to him advising our concern and fears that Anthony would not make it if we did not do surgery soon to close the lip so that he could suck. Dr. Becker advised us that normally he waited until the child was 10 lbs before he performed surgery but under the circumstances he scheduled Anthony's first surgery to close the gap in the lip.

It was an ordeal. We arrived at the Boise hospital and the nurse tried to get blood from Anthony's little veins. They were not able to after several attempts. Tears were rolling down my cheeks just watching them. They took Anthony out of the room and within minutes returned him with a band aid on his head. They had taken him to another room to get blood. A few minutes later they asked me to give them my baby for surgery. I was so young and naive, I thought I was going to surgery with them and followed them down the hall to the double wooden doors.

"We will take him now," the nurse advised. I was shocked that they were taking my child and I was not allowed into the surgery room.

My mother and I patiently waited while Dr. Becker performed surgery to correct the lip. Anthony's was only three weeks old but the doctor did an amazing job and the stitches were small and intricate. We stayed at the hospital two days and left knowing that Anthony was already gaining weight.

I returned home to my apartment and was blessed to have my family to help me with Anthony. His father was rarely home and I was trying to put an apartment together and take care of Anthony. In the middle of December with a baby less than two months old, I got sick. I thought I had the flu even though I had a horrible unbearable pain in my back as if someone had stuck a knife in it. I was in pain and weak. To this day I vaguely remember my best friend, Lori, finding me on the bathroom floor. She insisted that I go to the hospital. I was taken to the hospital where Dr. Wood advised me that he was going to check me into the hospital just for a few days that I was really dehydrated and my right kidney was not working properly. I was told that if I was not checked in immediately that I would not make it through the night. I was too weak to argue.

In the hospital, I found myself floating above my body, starring down at it. I would look at my hands and think that it was so cool, to see my hands in so many colors. I saw this handsome man sitting in a corner chair in my room watching TV. I did not know who he was, but he could stay in my room anytime! I woke up in the morning, called the nurses' station and asked for a sandwich.

"You want a sandwich? I will be right there." Two nurses came into the room, one to take vitals and the other with a sandwich. They were both excited that I wanted to eat! I thought they were weird. Why would they be so excited that I was hungry? (I found out years later that the handsome man in the room was a gentleman that my sister Donna was dating. Donna had him sit at the hospital with me when a family member could not because she had walked into my room and discovered they had not been checking my IV. She saw blood going from my IV back into the drip. It had run out of the fluid because no one had changed it. She insisted after that – that someone was with me in the hospital at all times.

My father came into my room with a huge smile on his face and gave me a big hug. Then Dr. Wood came into my room. He read my chart and asked me how I was feeling stating, "I'm really excited that you are eating." I thought they were all acting strange until my father told me that I had been there for ten nights. I thought it had only been overnight. Well, now that I was feeling better, I wanted to go home. I was not missing Christmas with my newborn son. His first Christmas, no way! I called the nurses' station approximately every half hour asking them to release me. Annoyed they finally called Dr. Wood back to the hospital. He politely told me that he was not releasing me for a few more days. I had been in there eleven days already. I wanted to go home but it wasn't until the 30th of December before I could leave. I had missed Anthony's first Christmas and was disappointed.

My mother had been taking care of her husband, my new baby and working her full time job. I am sure she was excited for me to be able to go home. I had large big black bruises on both arms from the IV's. I weighed 89 lbs and it didn't flesh out my five feet five inch frame. My mother's friend, Dixie, told me that it would be fun putting the weight back on. I was still weak and found myself hoping that Anthony's father would come home after work and help with the baby at night. He didn't. He normally left work and went out doing who knows what until the wee hours of the morning.

My mother was still coming to help with Anthony and taking care of her husband recovering from his heart attack. I was angry with David and weak from my kidney infection. In early January I became ticked off when he knew I was sick and still would not help with the baby. He came home from work, showered, changed clothes and left as usual. I stood in the kitchen exhausted and in tears. I went into the living room and sat down on the couch. I began to feed Anthony and my arms were hurting really bad and my head began to race with thoughts. What if, I wondered Anthony's father would get in a wreck and not come home? I felt hateful towards him. He came home in the wee hours the next morning, smelling of alcohol and told me that he had wrecked our car. He had gone off an embankment and dropped about 30 feet. The car was totaled but he hadn't been hurt. I felt horrible for wishing he would wreck the day before. However, I still wanted him out of our lives and advised him I would be moving out on my own. I worked full time and really felt as if I would be better off living alone with my son.

I moved into a beautiful apartment between Burley and Rupert. I had to work full-time and Anthony's Aunt Lisa was a junior in high school. Lisa would skip school and take care of Anthony while I worked that year. We laughed amongst ourselves often about her skipping school to care for her nephew, but she loved him so very much and was willing to do whatever was needed to help me care for him.

I began a beautiful journey with my son, my family and my son's family and great friends. It was not an easy journey but an incredible one.

At approximately three months of age Anthony needed another surgery. My mother being the wonderful supportive mother that she was went to Boise with me and was there for every one of Anthony's surgery. The second surgery involved turning the muscles in the back of his mouth. This was so that the muscles would act similar to a purse string and would allow Anthony to suck. At three months he was growing in length but we were still struggling to keep weight on the little guy.

By the time Anthony was approximately 3 years old we had gone through four surgeries. I was working at Maurice's in the evenings and driving back and forth to Twin Falls Monday thru Friday for college. I met a great guy, Curtis Holmes. Curtis' was in a family construction business and was kind, sincere, giving and was patient with Anthony. Anthony adored him and quickly began calling him, Dad. Curtis took my son with us on our dinner dates.

Anthony, my mother, sisters and I popped into a Golden Corral one day for a quick lunch. When asked what he wanted for lunch and given the choices of chicken strips, corn dog or salad, Anthony was quick to reply, "Don't they have lobster here!"

Christmas of that same year Curtis and I had planned a great Santa Claus morning, placing under the tree numerous gifts to surprise Anthony. We advised Anthony to be sure to wake us up when he got up, before he went into the living room. Curtis and I anticipated an early morning.

We woke up Christmas morning and were quite surprised that Anthony had not come to wake us yet, after being so extremely excited the night before. We rose from bed and walked to his room, bypassing the living room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw wrapping everywhere! "Anthony, why didn't you wake us up?" I stated entering his room. Logically, he stated, "You were sleeping and I know how you love to sleep in. I did not want to disturb you!"

The first two years that Curtis and I were married Anthony and I traveled with him to many of his construction job sites. Anthony always woke up full of laughter and looking forward to each day's adventure. We spent a lot of time in Jackson Hole one summer and had lots of opportunities to hike and fish.

We spent weekends at the motocross tracks. Curtis raced and also built motocross tracks. What I can easily say was once the sun was up, Anthony and I were out the door. He loved fishing, hiking and was easy. You simply had to say "Lets go..." And he was dressed and ready with a smile on his face.

My son Colby was born in 1986, Anthony was proud to have a new brother and as they grew older, he would consistently make every day an adventure.

One day as I was leaving my office to go to a medical appointment I experienced a horrible knot in my stomach. I knew that I had to hurry home. I made a frantic drive to pull into the yard as the neighbor lady came running to me saying, "Anthony's been hurt." She had his elbow packed with ice and his wrist was hanging. When I asked what happened she replied that the boys were jumping from the chin up bar to the trampoline and Anthony missed the bar. He was eleven years of age at the time.

While driving Anthony to the hospital I asked him to remove the ice pack so that I could see his elbow.

"No Ma, it is really really bad. You don't want to see it."

"Yes Anthony I do."

Anthony removed the ice pack and there was no doubt that we had a serious problem. I rushed him into the emergency room and they immediately sent him for x-rays. Dr. Wood reviewed the x-rays with me and stated that we would have to get an orthopedic surgeon immediately. His elbow was broken as was his wrist.

Dr. Peterson took him in for surgery and put two pins in his elbow stating he would not be able to cast the wrist immediately because of the weight it would put on the elbow. I curled up in the hospital bed with my son and knew it was going to be a long night. Around 2 a.m. I woke up aware of Anthony trying not to cry. I asked him what was wrong and he said that he hurt really badly. I felt his hand and it was ice cold. I knew something was seriously wrong. "Why didn't you wake me up?" I asked. He sweetly replied, "I didn't want to wake you."

I immediately reached out to a nurse and asked her to call the surgeon back in. The nurse argued with me for several minutes saying that it could wait until morning. I quickly lost my temper knowing that it was serious and began yelling at the nurse to do something and do it now. Dr. Peterson was called back in and Anthony was rushed back in for a second surgery. The pins had slipped and the fractured bones could have severed his nerves.

A few days past and Anthony was discharged with very strict orders. He would be out of school for one month and we had to be very careful with his arm. He was growing and it was important that it healed correctly. The wrist had been put in a light cast.

Anthony was home for a month from school and became very spoiled. He would tell me in exact detail how to make his milkshakes. We spent a lot of time playing board games and it took a lot of effort on my part to get him to slow down. Anthony was active and always wanted to be on the go!

We went to have the pins removed from the elbow and as the doctor twisted and turned on the pins I saw the agonizing pain in my son's eyes. I heard Anthony yell, "Someone had fainted. Dr. Wood stated that as I began to fall Anthony yelled, "Someone better get my mom!" Apparently he knew that I was going to pass out. The wrist had to be re-casted and now the focus was on allowing his wrist to heal. The cast was on his wrist for a period of roughly 6 weeks. When it was finally removed I it wasn't two days later he was back to being his rambunctious self literally running up the walls.

"You just got your cast off. If you break that wrist again, I will beat your butt." I said to him. It was New Year's Eve. Anthony had gone to my mother's for the evening as Curtis and I had plans to attend a New Year's party. When I returned to my mother's to pick Anthony up my mother was furious with me.

"I had to take your son back to emergency. Did you know that he broke that wrist again? And he did not tell you because you told him you would beat his butt?!"

"Oh my God mother it was a figure of speech." I rushed to Anthony and felt like the worst mother in the world. He was tired and sure enough in pain with a new cast. I asked him why he did not think he could tell me he had broken it again. "I did not want to believe that I really broke it again but a few minutes after you left me, I knew that I had. Sorry Ma."

"No, not sorry! I feel horrible that I said that to you. I never dreamed you would actually break it again! Do not ever be afraid to tell me anything and you know that I would never beat your butt. Be honest with me and that is all I ask. With honesty we can get through anything." From that day forward Anthony was always more than honest.

By the age of 18 months, my second son Colby had turned into a menace. I could write an entire book on his childhood. He would climb on Anthony's back and pull his hair. I would tell Anthony to pull his back, "I can't. He is my little brother."

Colby would remove the fronts of his dresser, throw the front door of the house open and spray the walls with a water hose. He put toothpaste in shampoo bottles climbed onto the shelves in the pantry and hide. If I called a for a sitter, they would say agree to sit if I lied and told them it was just for Anthony. If I said it was for both boys, they said 'No" in a hurry. Colby was a handful but left us all with many memories and honestly so much fun. Curtis and I divorced very amicably, even using the same attorney. He went off to college in Boise and I began seeking out a career in the travel world.

When Anthony was an infant he would wake up a little cranky until he had his cocoa. He would sit in his high chair wrapping part of a blanket around his cocoa cup and sip it. No matter what you asked him he would simply answer, "Cocoa!"

Gone, I can't believe he is gone.

I so wished he was here with me to share some cocoa, I don't want to go to dinner with anyone. Yet I don't want to leave Lacy alone. If she is not going to dinner then neither am I. But we went. Lisa insisted I sit at a very long large table with several people. They were all extended family, friends, my mother and son Colby. I looked down at the table settings realizing that I can't eat. My son is gone, how can I eat. I stayed until I was told by Curtis that it was time to leave. On the way home I was told we would be going to the mortuary in a few hours.

## Chapter Four

My son is in a mortuary. Is he really there? This is not real. I drift into a mindless fog. My limbs and body go through the motions of walking. I watch as if from a high roof top as people talk amongst them, making plans for the memorial. I think about saying things, about giving input but I am not sure any words come out of my mouth. It is possible I only thought them.

Jasper, Michael and April were discussing music with Lacy. Ale is orchestrating a symphony of plans; he was one of Anthony's best friends at the time. A friend that Anthony had confided his plans to that if he ever to died he wanted to be cremated. "Why would they even discuss death?" A friend that Anthony used to tell, "If anything ever happens to me, you and Josh will have to fight over who gets Lacy."

Why would my son say such things? Did he know he would leave us young, too early and with so much of his life left to live?"

It had already been a long day when we left for the mortuary around five p.m. in the afternoon. I felt as if I had been in this fog and haze for days. Family and friends moved around me and I felt invisible, in a shell that I had crawled into and was not going to come out of.

At the mortuary we were met by John Yraguen, the funeral director, who advises us on what room Anthony could be seen in. I walked in the room and a scream rose from inside of me. It is so unexpected I freeze. I can still see the blood and gravel in his ears. I fall to the thick carpeted floor.

Someone got me up from the floor and we all gathered together joining around him holding hands and praying. I will never forget the pain in my son Colby's eyes, as he kissed his brother on the forehead for the last time. My sister's, my mother, my brother, all of them in shock, pain and disbelief. Anthony's remains were to be back at the end of the week. We scheduled his service for Thursday night in Nampa at Yraguen Chapel and Friday night at Rasmussen Funeral Home in Burley. Weird thoughts rattled around in my head. "Why do you call a funeral home a home?"

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were an eternity. I have vague memories of the friends who came in and out of the house. My girlfriend Cathy stayed with me in Boise the entire week. Stephanie flew in for a few days but had to go back to work. A few of Anthony's closest friends stayed nearby that week as well. Michael had flown in from Costa Rica and Phillip came in from Seattle. Michael had lived with us for awhile and I considered him to be one of my boys, an amazing young man. They too were in as much shock and disbelief as my family.

Through our pain we tried to remind ourselves not to mourn his death but to celebrate his life. Anthony never liked anyone to be unhappy. He was caring, loving, kind and always happy. He loved to joke around, tell jokes and make people laugh.

The day of the memorial came and with it a sense of dread alongside a deep pain in my heart. I still did not want to believe that this was real, that this could actually be happening in my life.

I had to literally force myself to move forward; one step at a time through those big open doors into a funeral home reality slapping my face with every step.

I sit up front with my family. I do not see my son Colby and panic. I know the kids had stayed behind at the house trying to make last minute changes to his memorial CD that they would be presenting. I could not look behind me. I could not face all the people I felt were in the room. Strangely, I am overwhelmed by all the love that I feel even in my unbearable pain. Where is my son Colby? My heart races at the thought of him being in a wreck on his way here. My heart races faster and my legs began to shake out of control. I can't slow down my thoughts. Sheer panic envelopes me, and my heart feels like it is going to pound right out of my chest. Is he sitting somewhere else? I turn to look just as he comes in the back door. He makes his way towards me, a look of devastation on his face.

He sits down next to me and I reach over to pull the sticker he had left on the front of his new pants. We lock our hands together as the service begins. Our lives have been forever changed.

The service is beautiful. Several of the young adults get up to speak and it is clear to all of us how much he was going to be missed by so many beautiful people. The memorial CD plays. I watch through tears. The music is perfect, the pictures beautiful, but there is something missing. Later I would realize that the first twenty-one years of his life were missing. The CD is only of his last five years in Boise. He had an entire life before that and I am aware that it is missing.

Phillip Grace, head down, walks up the aisle sideways. He had always been a great friend to Anthony and was known to be funny. The funeral director looked at Phillip, back at me, back to Phillip. He later confided in me his concern about what Philip was going to do.

"Anthony was a great friend to me," He began in a gentle voice. "Everyday with Anthony was an adventure. He picked me up from school one day, early like at eight a.m. Anthony asked me if I wanted to skip school that day. Of course, I jumped at the chance and jumped into the little Chevy Luv. We got to Anthony's house and he handed me a paint brush saying, "Let's paint the trim on the house. The owners will take money off ma's rent."

What child at the age of 16 does that for their mom? A blush of pride rolled over me, what an amazing son he had been.

Phillip continued, "Another day Anthony picked me up from school with a smile on his face and asked, "Do you want to skip school today?" Of course I did and I jumped in that little Chevy Luv. Anthony had broke his wrist and continued to break it often. It almost always had a cast on it. So we are driving down a back road one day and Anthony yells, "DUCK!" I hit the floor. He threw his gun up over the cast for leverage and was shooting over me at a mud duck, just another day in life with Anthony."

Next Anthony's wife Lacy spoke about how much she loved Anthony. So much that she learned to hunt fish and do everything that he loved so that they would always be together.

Derrick Heiner stated, "If someone ever asked you about the one best friend that would be there at two a.m. in the morning for you, it would be Anthony."

Several more of the young adults spoke. I can't remember everything that was said. I just remember how proud I was of my son and how deep the remorse was that he was no longer with us.

After the service, I stood outside and greeted people as they exited. I had no idea who had been at the service, unless they were immediate family or the young adults that spoke. I sat in the front row and stared at my son's picture through the service, unconscious as to who was there. Outside, I was pleased to see Anthony's Grandma, Linda, and her beautiful sisters. I always loved Anthony's Aunt Bev.

Kathy Hoff, a beautiful friend, approached me. I had been very close to her for years. I was so numb that it took a few moments to register who she was. I had not seen her in such a long time. I held her and cried. She was a very close friend of mine who assisted me with watching Anthony on many occasions.

A handsome man came up to me. Again in shock and disbelief, I could not place him. My brain was not working. He smiled, I grabbed him and held him so close to me. Monte Wickersham! "Monte, thank you so much for being here. I can't believe it is you. I can't believe you are really here." Monte was a dear friend of mine that I used to have a great deal of fun with and had not seen him for years.

"Remember when I hid your Harley?" I said as he grabbed hold of me. He held me for a long time. He used to stay at my house on occasion and help me with the boys. He was a big kid himself, which is why Anthony and Colby both had a great deal of fun with him. "How could I forget that one?" He finally replied. He gave me his current phone number and asked me to call him.

So many wonderful friends, and I was in such a state of mind that some of my closest friends were unrecognizable.

We returned to Anthony and Lacy's home to find Rock Crawlers parked in his yard, up and down the street. Derrick Heiner had somehow gotten Anthony's Rock Crawler up with the front tires on the back of his. These boys and their toys! What a great thing to come back to the house, such a fond memory. The night continued with tears, laughter, more tears, stories and a reminder of a precious life lost that had obviously touched so many. I wondered around in shock, trying to be a part of the celebration of my son's life but my heart was empty.

"Colby remember the day that Anthony caught my car on fire?" I said suddenly.

"Yes, he said with a slight smile on his face."

I came home early one morning from Jackpot, NV. Anthony and Colby were sitting at the kitchen table, their eyes huge.

"Why are you two awake?"

"Something bad happened, Anthony stated. Something really bad."

"Well, what ?"

"No, it's bad Ma."

"Did we lose someone in the family, come on tell me. You are freaking me out."

"I caught your brand new car on fire."

I started laughing, "How in the heck did you catch my car on fire?"

"I was parked on dry grass at the high school for a game. Several of the hot exhaust systems started a fire. I have done everything I can and can't remove the smoke smell."

"It's a car. I did not like it anyway. Let's go find a Mustang convertible. If we have to make a payment, we may as well have something fun! Right?"

I wonder around listening to more stories. I simply float from place to place. A guy that I do not recognize came up to me starting a conversation. I listen to him but I am not comprehending anything he is saying. Colby came up to me and put his arms around me and I simply collapsed against him. "Come on Mother, I think you should go upstairs and get some sleep." Colby was ushering me off and I could hear the guy yelling, "What you like younger men?! I am a good catch."

"He is my son, you idiot. He is my amazing son; my amazing son."

I woke the next morning thinking it must be around seven in the morning. I had only been sleeping 3-4 hours at night at the most. I walked downstairs to find the house full of people. My girl friend, Cathy, was sitting on the couch. My mother next to her, her eyes grey with grief. I wondered why the house was so full already. I glanced at the clock and realized it is eleven a.m. I slept that long?

My mother says, "Colby asked everyone to let you sleep in. We did not want to bother you. You needed the sleep."

I looked at my Mother saying, "It was that or the pot," and then I walk into a kitchen full of people filled with amazing food cooked by one of the lady's.

A memory from the memorial CD popped in my head and I panicked. I had to find my niece April. April and Anthony were born seven months apart. April was born in March and Anthony in October. They were very close and had been since they were babies and then toddlers. I needed her. I found her in Anthony's office area on the computer with Michael. "April, please help me," I said. "That CD, the memorial CD, it does not have any family in it. We are missing so much of his life and our family. Will you please fix it? I know everyone is in shock but I would love some of the first twenty or so years of his life added and our family. Can you fix it before the service in Burley?" I was in tears.

April and Michael, both looked at me with reassurance in their big brown eyes. "We are doing that right now? You know how Anthony loved photography, we have a whole box of pictures right here. It is going to be okay. We will meet you in Burley."

"April, do you remember how every year on Anthony's birthday, he would ask you if he was now big like you because he referred to big as age. He could never wait for his birthday to be able to catch up with you."

Tearfully, April replied, "I will never forget that. He always wanted to be big with me."

April, Michel and Colby were amazing; they compiled a wonderful second part to the CD that included our family, his childhood and his teenage years. April is an extremely talented artist. She was best friends with Anthony in so many ways.

With the service over in Nampa, we spent another day with Lacy and headed to Burley ID, for a local service, with many of my sibling's friends, my friends. There were many flowers and again a roller coaster of emotions as we shared memories, laughed, and cried.

My dear friend Michael had flown in just for the service from Africa. My beautiful girlfriend Shelly and her new baby were there, Lori Feltman and her family. So many people I had not seen in years but had little time to talk with. I stood by my father as people gathered in line to give their condolences. I was beyond numb with grief. My father was fighting lung cancer and I saw the pain in his eyes. Now his first grandson was gone. I never said it out loud but I remember thinking to myself, "Daddy won't make it a year. This is going to kill him if the cancer doesn't."

Several of us joined at my brother's home after the service for dinner. I continue to go along with whatever has been planned.

My brother, James, was a huge part of Anthony's life. He treated Anthony like the brother he never had. He took Anthony hunting every year. Often during the month of October I never saw either one of them. He also helped him buy his first motorcycle and helped him get into all the motorcycle races. Anthony was an amazing rider. We spent many weekends at the race track which was nice because I had my brother and Curtis to both help Anthony with motocross.

James also taught Anthony how to build a bomb out of a gun casing. I decided at this moment to share this story.

Anthony was in seventh or eighth grade and it was time for a science fair. I asked him what he was going to do.

"Ma, can I build a bomb?"

"Ahhhhh, not so sure that is a good idea."

"James taught me how to out of a gun casing. I already asked my teacher and he said it was okay."

"Sure not to happy about James teaching you how to build bombs though."

So Anthony went off to school and about an hour later I got a phone call. Anthony was speaking fairly quiet into the phone. "Ma, come get me."

"Why?"

"Don't ask any questions right now. Just hurry!"

Not knowing what was up but knowing my son, if he said to come get him, then he needed me. I jumped in the car and raced to the school.

He was waiting outside and the second I pulled up he came running out, jumping into the car yelling, "GO!"

I screech out of the parking lot asking, "What the hell is going on?"

"Did you see the cop car?"

"Yes," I answered totally bewildered. What would that have to do with you?"

"The car bombings in Twin Falls. I think they think I did it!" he said scared and wide eyed.

I burst into laughter. "Now why in the world would they think that you did that?" I had to pull over I was laughing so hard.

"My science teacher kept coming to my desk and whispering, to me, "I had to tell." I kept asking him, "Tell them what? And he would not answer me, but he did it like five times. Then I heard him in the hall talking to the cop. All the kids were talking about the Twin Falls car bombings this morning I know they think I did it!"

"Oh good grief! They do not think that you did it! How would you have gotten to Twin Falls anyway?"

We never did figure out what the science teacher was talking about or why he told Anthony that. He got an A on his science project. Being a single mother was eventful with my boys, there was never a dull moment! Never.

In an attempt to lighten the room and my heart, I began sharing stories of the boys and I during what we termed the "airline days." I worked for an airline in Salt Lake City so we spent a period of five years in Salt Lake City. I could write a full book on those five years alone. My family was gathered around an island at my brother's house, preparing dinner and I began sharing my favorite memories.

I had gone to Anthony's school one day late October when he was around eleven years of age. It was nasty cold in Salt Lake City that fall. I explained to the administrator that Anthony had a dental appointment and I would be checking him out for the day. Anthony came out to the car with a sour look on his face. "I do not want to go to the dentist."

I quickly replied, "We are not going to the dentist, Anthony. I went to the airport and checked flights, there is a lot of availability on the flights to San Diego lets non-rev down to San Diego and have a play day." Anthony yelled "OK!" Anthony was so easy to please, always willing to do whatever, go wherever and he would try anything. Well almost anything. He refused to eat at the food vendors in Mexico.

The flight was pretty full and we were seated in row one. Anthony had the window, I had the middle seat and a nice gentleman had the aisle seat. The fuselage is usually fairly quiet once we push back and begin our ascent. As we were approaching a cruising altitude Anthony yelled out, quite loudly, enough I am sure the majority of passengers heard him. "Mom? Did you know I am in puberty?" I was fumbling for words as the passengers broke into hysterical laughter behind me. I was in an embarrassing mess.

"Do you need to talk with your dad, Curtis, Uncle James?" I stuttered.

"No, mother, I just want you to know I have hair down there."

My family broke into laughter around the island and my brother stated, "Why would you ask him if he wanted to talk to me? I still don't have hair down there!" We all broke into painful laughter!

Anthony carried on the rest of that flight telling me what kind of bikes he wanted for Christmas and everything else on his very long list. We landed safely and the sunshine was welcoming. Well, my son always being the care taker, once we got to San Diego, took note of the time. I shuttled him out the door of the airport and onto a public transportation bus. We got off the bus next to a trolley that we could ride to the border of Tijuana. We met a nice service man whom we talked to on the trolley. He stated that Anthony was an amazing young man and for the two of us to be out of Tijuana before dark for safety reasons.

We ventured across the border into Mexico. I wanted to eat tacos at one of the carts. Anthony would have nothing of it. McDonalds it was! Anthony was taken aback at the little children offering Chiqulets and the women in the street with little babies and very little clothing. We had ventured into an area that did not look the safest. Several men were approaching us and there were not a lot of people on the street. "Ma, quick, run to a restroom and wash your make up off and mess up your hair."

"What the hell? Anthony."

"Men have been staring at you all day! Go try to get ugly! You are just too beautiful!"

I laughed hard and reassured him that if they were staring, I am sure it was because they thought I looked strange. We had fun shopping until Anthony advised me that it was time to head back.

"I am not done shopping. Why? What time is it?"

"Mom, it took us a little over an hour to transfer and get down here. We have to check in for our flight at least one hour prior to. Let's go."

I laughed, "What a great job Anthony. I never even thought about the time."

"You rarely do, you are totally unconscious to time! But I got us covered."

Anthony took care of me.

Another time Anthony was at work with me and approached the actor Scott Glenn who was on our outbound flight. Mr. Glenn and his wife flew with us regularly and I adored his wife. She was striking, beautiful and such a sweet person. They had two teenage daughters at the time that were also quite beautiful. We rarely spoke to them differently or brought up their careers so when Anthony approached Mr. Glenn, he simply stated, "Hey, you are in that movie, the scary one that my mom loves. Silence of the Lambs." I was a bit concerned because I did not know if Mr. Glenn would be welcoming to the conversation. Mr. Glenn was amazing. He told Anthony that yes it was him and a bit about how to make a movie and how much time each scene takes. He spoke politely with Anthony until the flight boarded. My son was outgoing and friendly to everyone.

I wanted to stay in those memories. The reality of Anthony being gone was not real to me. My heart ached so bad I did not know how I would ever handle the pain, how my family would handle the pain.

The rest of the evening and the next few days, were hard to get through. It seemed we all tried to focus on good times and laughter. The time frame that we lived in Salt lake City became a safe focal point for me. During the early 90's I moved to Salt Lake City to work for an airline. Colby was residing with his father, Curtis in Boise at the time. Curtis was going to college and had a steady routine. My hours at the airport were chaotic and at the time it was the best interest of Colby's to be with his father.

I was fortunate that working for the airline, because it allowed me to be able to send the boys on flights between Curtis and myself.

One summer Colby was staying with me when I was called out by my boss at approximately one in the morning. "Can you go out and work flight operations this morning? Kim called in sick?"

"I am more than happy to Mike, but Anthony stayed the night with a friend, I will have to bring Colby with me."

"No problem." Mike replied. "Just be sure he is in flight operations room, it is secured and he won't be able to get out on the tarmac."

Colby was approximately four years old and full of mischief, twenty-four-seven. We left for Salt Lake City International airport around four in the morning. I put the code in to allow us into the flight operations room. I sat Colby down with a book and told him that I would be right back. I took a quick run out of the flight operations room upstairs to use the restroom. When I came back, our flight was on the ground. I grabbed the chocks and ran outside to work the flight. When I opened the door to our little metro liner, the pilot leaned out and said, "Are you Colby's mother?" OH NO! is all that went through my head. He has answered the call radio. The call radio records every call into the control tower for all flights, international and domestic. Once the passengers were off the aircraft, I went into the office to enter our flight times. The pilot was speaking with Colby.

"He did great!" the pilot stated. "I called in and he answered the call. He clearly and firmly stated, "Flight 2547, all's clear, come on in!"

In a panic, I called my boss and advised that Colby had called in the flight. Mike, my boss, a very sweet man simply stated, "Well let's not bring any attention to that matter and I will cover us if it is addressed." That was back in the early 90's while working for a small regional commuter. Certainly not something that would be allowed today. There were numerous things that happened back then that would not be allowed today.

Of course, when returning home and sharing the story with Anthony, we laughed until our stomachs hurt. Colby was quite proud of himself.

That was not the end of the Salt Lake City stories. That period of time in our life was like one full life time, filled with antics, activities and lots of fond memories.

After working a long shift in the middle of summer, I came home to find Colby alone. He was five years old. "Colby, just where is Anthony? He is supposed to be watching you."

"He is not far." Colby replied.

"Colby, please tell me where your brother is."

"Can't." Colby flatly replied without looking directly at me.

"Colby, you better tell me right now."

"Can't. I won't betray my brother's trust. I promised I would not say anything and I won't. I can't that would be betraying his trust."

Knowing the stubbornness of my child, there was no way he was going to tell me. I took a walk around the neighborhood and as Colby stated, he was close. He was just around the corner and visiting with a young girl. A young girl named Rebel. When I asked Anthony why Colby was advised not to tell me, he simply replied, it was on a need to know basis Mom. You did not need to know.

Anthony and Colby held that bond and trust to the very day that we lost Anthony. A true brotherly bond that nobody would break, not even myself.

Then there was Todd. A great guy who helped me on days that I had to go out of town on business. I was now working my shifts at the Salt Lake City airport and flying to Boise two days a week to work as an administrative assistant to Danny, the manager at the time. If the flights were full, I would simply ask Todd to stay at the house overnight with the boys. Todd and over grown child himself gladly accepted. They boys created torpedos out of light bright lights, sent paper airplanes on fire down the stairs, built tents and camps in the living room. I never knew what disarray I was going to come home to. I didn't care that they made a disaster in the house. I was happy that they had Todd to encourage their imaginations to unbound limits.

Our life become an adventure, sometimes at the expense of the airlines that I worked for.

I came home late one evening. Anthony, always happy, was anxious to hear about my day.

"How was your day Ma? Meet any new celebrities?"

I worked the Salt Lake City to Sun Valley, Idaho route and we often had celebrities on our flights. "Nope, I did not meet anyone new. But, I caught the tug on fire!"

Anthony's eyes widened with disbelief. Stifling a laugh he asked how I managed to catch the tug on fire.

"I was working customer service, ticketing, boarding, basically everything that needed to be done. The flight was late inbound so I got on the radio and told flight operations, that I would be out in a minute to take the mail to the mail room. Then I told the passengers not to leave the boarding area, that I was going to take the mail so we could get the flight turned faster. I had on a long skirt, jacket, and high heels as I went out to help our team. I got on the tug and began pulling it to the mail room. Oh Anthony! People were waving, I could not figure why they were waving, I had taken the mail numerous times to the mail room, nobody ever waived. But I did the parade wave back.

We were in concourse A and the mail room was in D so I drove clear across the Salt Lake City International tarmac. I pulled into the mail room and billows of smoke rolling in behind me.

The postal worker said, "Helps if you take the brakes off."

"I was so embarrassed and I am not taking the mail to the mail room anymore."

Anthony laughed until he cried. "Ma, you sure pulled a good Lucy today. There's another chapter for your book! What did your boss say?"

"It is something we will keep between us."

"How was your day, my handsome son.

"Uneventful. I do not like school over here. Wonder if Grandma will let me stay with her next year."

"If you really dislike the school and want to stay with Grandma, we can ask her. I just want you to be happy and she loves you." Anthony did go stay with Grandma the next year. There were a lot of airline acquisitions and changes in the industry. I let him go stay with her because I simply wanted him to be happy and was not sure whether I was going to take an offer with another airline or move to Redding, California for another offer. That year he took great care of my mother. Making her breakfast after a surgery she had. He loved cooking for her.

It was that year that Ty and I played a great joke on Anthony for his birthday. I called Ty's mother and asked if I could fly Ty from Spokane to Salt Lake City and have him surprise Anthony for his birthday. I was so happy when she agreed. Ty flew in and we had a fun drive to Burley, Idaho. I had Ty get out of the car about a block from the house.

I walked in and hugged my son, excited for his birthday. He was excited as well and told me he had saved his money so we could rent roller blades. A knock came to the door and I asked Anthony to answer it. When Anthony saw Ty, he screamed, laughed, rolled his eyes and fell to the floor. He was so excited to have the next few days with Ty. Anthony and I loved playing jokes on each other and surprising each other.

Anthony was also very protective of his brother and me. I had a date one evening and noticed, Michael, my date, sitting in his car from my upstairs window. I yelled down to Anthony, "Why is Michael sitting in his car?"

"I told him you were not home. I told him you had to work flights and would not be back for several days."

"Anthony, why would you do that? I was simply in the shower."

"You are not going with him."

"Excuse me. Why can't I go with him? We are simply going to dinner."

"Well, mother!" Anthony stated with his hands planted firmly on his hips. "You are not going because he has on red leather pants!"

"He is the CEO of a sheet metal corporation. You are being silly. And I am going to dinner with him."

When I met Michael at his car, he did not have on red leather pants. I had no clue where Anthony came up with some of the things that he did at times. He had a very vivid imagination, coming from my child who won a writing award in fourth grade for a piece titled, Burger Flipping John.

Anthony was the man of the house and he wore the title with pride. He also made sure that men I dated knew that I did not need them.

I got up early for work the next day and Anthony asked to go with me. Of course, he could. I told him I had to work customer service anyway and got bored inside. I liked working flight operations so much better. However, my boss, preferred to keep me indoors and on the computer service side of things.

Kirk and Kim were working with me that day. Kirk always played jokes on me. He was going to be boarding the flight that day.

Anthony, came into flight operations and was watching the team work the flight out the window. "I am going to scare the crap out of Kirk, here in a few minutes."

Of course, Anthony was game for fun. I went out to the tarmac and helped Kim load luggage in the back. After we loaded the luggage I asked her to put her hands together in a cup and hoist me into the nose of the aircraft. This was a small metro liner and where we would put the passenger's small items if they wanted us too. Kim helped me in with none too much time left. Just as I got in the nose and she closed the door the pilots came out. Kim said nothing and went about as if nothing was going on.

I started giggling in anticipation of the scared look on Kirk's face. I heard one of the pilots say, "Hear that? I think someone is on board. Go check the aircraft."

The pilot returned and stated, "There is nothing." I giggle again. "Radio in and tell someone to come out and check the luggage compartment. I still hear something."

It took everything I had not to giggle with anticipation as Kirk approached. I imagined Anthony sitting inside giggling in anticipation as well. Kirk pulled the door down so the passengers could board the flight and opened the door to the nose compartment. I yelled a blood curdling scream when he did and he fell to his knees. I laughed so hard, I did not think I was going to be able to get out of the nose of the plane.

I went into flight operations and Anthony was laughing so hard he was holding his stomach.

"Ma! I had the best seat in the house! That pilot jumped right out of his seat!" He continued to laugh all the way home. He joined some neighborhood friends and I could hear him sharing his day's activities with his mother, Lucy. The name he had tagged on me.

I continued to share stories about Anthony with my family and friends as a way of holding at bay the hollow empty feelings in my heart. What was I supposed to do now? Go home, go on with my life, get up and function like nothing happened? Memories continued to flood my mind. I could not sleep so I simply shared more stories.

Colby was back living with his dad and I had a late shift at the airport. Anthony did not want to sit at the apartment alone. "Ma, can I go to work with you?"

"Sure, let's work the flight and then go to dinner." Anthony liked coming to the airport with me. I think he enjoyed people watching as much as I did.

Back then Morris Air was known as the Greyhound of airlines. They had a small podium to check in guests. The line ran in front of our station and there was always a long line for the Salt Lake City to Los Angeles flight. Some people had packed their belongings in a garbage sack. The flights were inexpensive and usually at one hundred percent load capacity.

I watched as Anthony observed people. He was looking at the backside of this woman. She had long blond hair, graciously pulled back and was wearing a shirt that was folded at midriff and in the front, with leggings and high heels. She had a cute figure and I am sure that is why Anthony was checking her out, he was in puberty, you now.

I was checking in guests for our travelers and caught the lady turning to face us at the same time Anthony did. Wide eyed, Anthony looked at me and yelled, "Mom that chick has balls!" The pants were a bit too tight to hide the fact that the lady was indeed a man.

## Chapter Five

I shared my last story for the evening. Empty inside, I went to bed to try and fall asleep but cannot. I lay in bed all night, crying and praying. I felt as if I was in a bad dream and that God would not take my son. I was also filled with rage and anger that I did not have the strength to express. I held onto my memories and begged for this reality to be only a really bad dream. It's just a bad dream. I would convince myself over and over.

At breakfast the next morning, I sit and stared at the eggs my brother has made for me. I had no appetite. My mother asks me to share more airline stories. They don't seem funny anymore.

"I am happy that we never lost our flight benefits mother."

"Why would you say that?"

"The boys had to be separated on every flight. It was a good thing that I was well liked and was never turned in to corporate for their behavior. They would fight and it was usually flight attendant James, on that route. James would separate them. Put one to the front of the aircraft and one at the back. James would arrive exhausted as he explained to me how the boys threw paper airplanes at one another. How Colby refused to let anyone sit next to him. Scaring the passengers away by yelling, "Don't sit next to me, I am sick!"

My mother stated, "He did that on a flight we were on once didn't he? Didn't you ask him to tell you where he was sick and when he said his stomach, you asked him to give it a name. What did he name his stomach?"

"I think he named it appropriately, Grinch. I remember being mortified by his behavior."

"I remember taking him to check in for a flight and he had a water gun in his bag. When the security told him he could not have it, Colby had quite the diplomatic conversation with him." My mother flatly stated.

"I am sure he did mom, Colby read the New York Times and National Geographic at the age of five. He was not a normal child." I was flat from emotions and the roller coaster of grief when out of nowhere I burst into laughter. "But you remember the fart machine? Colby would place the fart machine in the seat pocket of the unaccompanied minor either sitting next to him or in front of him. When he would set off the fart machine, he would reach up and tell the poor kid next to him, "That he was disgusting, dude. So lucky we never lost our benefits or had them suspended."

My mother broke into laughter about the time Anthony had messed with my alarm clock and I woke up late for a flight to Phoenix. Throwing my shoes on and thinking they did not feel right; I flew out the door and drove like a bat out of hell to reach the airport and make my flight. I ran through security, looked back and wondered why everyone was staring at me. The gate agent tells me to hurry they are closing the doors and there is a window seat open in aisle one in first class and to take it.

I sat down sighing with relief and say hello to the handsome man in the suit next to me. The man shakes my hand stating his name. He then advises me he is with the FBI and is good at noticing strange and unusual things. He looked down at my feet. I slowly look down wondering what was strange and unusual. My shoes are on the wrong feet and heels no less. No wonder they did not feel right.

I got to the airport and called Anthony straight away. "Did you reset my alarm?"

He giggled and replied, "Yes." He giggled harder and then told me he saw me run out with my shoes on the wrong feet. Did anyone notice?" Then he stated, "Did you look in your bag yet?

"No, what have you done?"

Giggling he hung up. I just had a carry on so I frantically searched through the bag. He had taken out one shoe of each pair of shoes I had taken with me. I had a tennis shoe, a flat sandal, a boot, and a pair of shoes that matched with the exception that one was navy blue the other was black. I would get even for this one!

I always felt as if Anthony was my best friend, we told each other everything. I do not think we had anything near a typical mother son relationship. He was my world when he was born. The loyalty we had to another was a bond that could have never been broken. He was truly my best friend. There was no discipline at my house and no need for it. I told my boys that they had all the trust in the world up front. They were good boys. Of course, they did the typical boy things but they did not get into serious trouble.

I am aware of how distant I can feel one moment and then laughing and sharing priceless memories and crying the next. I am in shock. It is time for me to go back home to Montana.

I just can't tell anymore stories. I can't handle being in Burley and driving by the places Anthony, Colby and I ate at together, played together and lived together. I am ready to go home where I can hide and fall into oblivion. The pain is still unbearable and I wanted to run, just run. But to where?

I had beautiful amazing friends with me, Cathy, Stephanie, Amanda and Bill. Cathy had stayed with me from the day after Anthony's death, through both services and was unbelievable with her patience and ability to just be there in case I needed anything. She is one of my dearest friends with a heart of gold. Never left my sight and tolerated my outbursts with genuine care and concern. I remember her telling me not to move anything at Anthony and Lacy's house. Not to clean the bathroom, not to move furniture and told me how important it was for his wife. Anthony's family trying to help out replaced her dryer that was not working. Cathy was right. She freaked out.

Stephanie and Amanda had come up with Bill, whom I was residing with at the time. Stephanie had been thoughtful. She read numerous articles and searched for resources on how to help me cope with my grief. She made a schedule for our large network of friends to check on me, so that someone had daily contact with me for when I got back to Montana. She planned activities to keep my mind busy and my body active.

We all headed back to Montana. I had picked up my dog, Ruger, a tyrant of a miniature Doberman. Cathy went in the convenience store leaving the keys in the ignition. I got out to get a soda and we came back to the truck doors locked. In Ruger's psychotic behavior, he had frantically jumped up and down on the doors until he locked us out. This was going to be a long journey home. We called for assistance and patiently waited in extremely hot weather while my dog jumped from side to side in a nice air conditioned truck.

I was leaving my car at my sister's because nobody would let me drive home. We began the drive out of Idaho and I sat shaking with uncontrollable disbelief at all that had transpired over the last weeks.

I looked back as we left Pocatello, and felt as if my life was over. My son died the Saturday of Memorial weekend so we held a service for him on Thursday evening in Nampa and then the service in Burley on Friday evening. One week and it was all over.

My oldest son, my best friend was simply dead, in ashes and gone. Simply ashes - God why? Anthony was loved by everyone, always brought a smile to everyone's face. He had taken great care of Colby, I and my mother. He was so fun and brought so much joy to everyone around him. Why? I could not hear an answer and my belief system went out the window on the long ride back to Deer Lodge, Montana. My belief system that I had grown up, my belief in a good God was gone. I was empty, emotionally, spiritually, physically and mentally. I was hollow.

Back in Montana I spent the first two days locked in the spare bedroom at Bill's house. I had picked up a large bottle of wine before we got home and locked myself in that room to be alone. I wanted to sleep and wake up with my world back to normal. My son alive and living his life to the fullest.

I would not answer the phone. I did not want to go out with my friends. I wanted to be alone with my dog or my son Colby. Colby, so strong, even in his own grief, was always checking on me. He wanted me to go back to Idaho to live for awhile so I had more family around me.

I often put my dog Ruger on the four wheeler and drove out to race track campground just to get away. Ruger would bark at the other dogs we passed. I think he thought, "Look at me, I am on a chariot and you dogs are walking!" He was an extremely spoiled dog that thought he was human. I was running but did not know where. I was in a nightmare and awake. I often wondered how others who had lost a child coped. How did they go back to work and function like a human being. I was a tortured soul filled with anger, regret, remorse, pain, sadness, and grief. It was becoming an identity. I found no enjoyment, felt no happiness and hated the world.

To this day I cannot remember how I got back to Idaho to get my car. I remember spending a few nights with my sister, Kathi. We had been inseparable when our kids were little. She was in deep pain as well. My lovely and talented sister, Donna, called to advise me that she would be sending out the thank you cards. What Thank You cards, I thought? I remember her stating that it is hard to do because it just seems to finalize everything. It is over, he was gone.

I loaded up a few flower arrangements and plants from the service and drove alone back to Montana. During the drive back, I looked everywhere for Anthony. I looked in the mountains, in the trees and in the clouds. If I stopped for fuel, I looked for him at the station. If I went into a store, I looked for him. During that drive I saw him in the clouds and I heard him tell me, "This is great Ma, look; I can push through a cloud!" I heard him talk to me all the way home. "Remember when you used to tell me Ma that our bodies were just our vehicles, that held our spirit in physical form. And that when you leave your body it is cool and fun! It is Ma, you were right! I can go anywhere now!"

I thought I was going crazy. Often I had to pull off the side of the road to cry until I could focus on the road again.

I took my flowers and plants and belongings out to Bill's. Then I packed a bag for Ruger and a bag for myself, drove back into Butte to stay with Sabrina and Glenn, close friends of mine, for a few days. Glenn was out of town working so Sabrina stayed up late with me, sang to me, and cried with me. I went to my room and Sabrina held my hand until we both fell asleep. I woke up and Sabrina was sleeping next to me, still holding my hand.

"Sabrina, I should have never moved to Butte from Boise. I lost five years of Anthony's life that I could have been with him."

"You would never have known this was going to happen. Please don't do that to yourself."

"When I was trying to decide whether to accept the training position and relocate, Anthony showed up at my house with a dozen red roses. He gave me a card that read..."Now run like hell, never to look back except to see your children admiring your struggles, defeats, success and strengths. You're the strongest, best woman I know and I am DAMN PROUD to call you my Mother! Love you, Anthony!

"Sabrina, I should have never left."

I was consumed with guilt and regret. The times I was out on a date and should have been home with him. Regret consumed my hollow shell of a body. I looked in the mirror and no longer saw me. Who was that woman in the mirror?

I was only sleeping about three hours at a time. My body fought sleep. I did not want to sleep because the pain was so intense when I woke up and had to face another day without my son.

Colby had gone back to his house and back to work. John Mataga, a dear friend of mine that would spend the summers with me had come up from Texas for support. He would be staying with Stephanie this year, because I had sold my home in Anaconda about two months before Anthony died, in anticipation of moving for my career.

Sabrina stayed home from work and we decided to go to the store get some munchies and a bottle of wine and watch a movie, Trailer Park Boys. Sabrina knew Bernard, an actor in the show, and loved watching it. We pulled up front of Safeway, got out of the car and began walking across the parking lot when I heard something falling to the ground around me. Sabrina yelled, "What the hell? They are bullets, give me your purse, you must have a hole in it." I stood dumbfounded and handed her my purse stating to her that I did not have bullets in my purse. She found no hole in my purse. So here we stood in the middle of the parking lot and a few more fell. It looked as if they were falling about five feet above us out of the air hitting the ground. I reached down and picked them up. They were empty shell casings and there were seven of them. I told Sabrina, "I think Anthony is pulling a joke on me." We both stood there for several minutes in disbelief.

We bought a few bottles of wine, cheese and returned to her house. She put in Trailer Park Boys and we tried to laugh as we used to. I hurt inside. If I laughed it was a forced fake laugh because nothing was funny. We drank until we both passed out. Sabrina left early for work the next morning and I could hear music playing very loud. There were three little birds in a nest outside of her house. I stared at these three little birds for hours. Time stood still. I began to hear a song. A song about three little birds that sat in a window and they didn't have to worry. The song got louder so I went outside; thinking that one of her neighbors had their music on loud. She really did not have close neighbors. I went back inside and it started playing again only louder. Back outside I went and nothing. There was no music. The stereo was not on; I looked upstairs, no radio, and then the music simply stopped. I had going crazy.

I was done. There was no way I would ever be able to live in this world and I wanted out of the pain. I sat down with a piece of paper at Sabrina's table.

I had gone mad. I was sure I had gone mentally crazy. I wrote the note through tears, got in my car, drove to the store, bought a bottle of wine, went to the hotel and got a room.

I had chosen which road would be the best to drive off so that it would for sure kill me. I shut my phone off and drank that bottle of wine. The road I had chosen was between Anaconda and Philipsburg on Flint Creek Pass. There was a corner that other people had died after going straight into a huge tumbling ravine. That was my plan. I loved Ruger, my dog very much and realized that I needed a plan for my little guy. He was such a brat. Who would be best for him? I had decided that I would ask Stephanie to take him now. I would tell her to please take Ruger to Colby in a few days. Colby is amazing with animals and that is what would be the best long term solution for my priceless prince.

I planned to call Stephanie and ask her to meet me. I would lie and tell her that John wanted her to pick Ruger up so he could have time with Ruger. John also loved animals and Ruger loved to be with John. John walked him, gave him treats, held him and loved on him. Most people would not take Ruger because of his ill behaved manners. I had a plan and was ready. I was obsessed with darkness and the thought of suicide consumed every cell in my body.

I rang Stephanie and she asked, "Where are you? You tell me right now."

"I am at a hotel and I need to meet you. John wants Ruger and I don't have time to go to your house to take him."

What hotel?" she insisted. I really did not want to tell her but I needed her to get Ruger so I figured the hotel was as good a place as any. "The Red Lion."

"Don't you dare leave. You stay there."

Wow she was a little cranky and demanding today. Stephanie was pregnant so I chalked it up to hormones.

I met Stephanie outside. She was with her mother Janet. I loved Janet. Janet stated, "Get in the car sweetie. We have something really cool to show you." Curious I got in the car. They told me, "It is just a little ways up this road."

They drove me straight to the hospital and insisted I go to the emergency room. Sabrina had gone home early from work, read my suicide letter and knew I was serious. She was frantically calling around looking for me.

"I am not going in there, take me back to my car now."

"I know you too damn well, Lori, you get out of this car or I will go get the medical staff to carry your ass in there. Besides, you don't want to be driving, you have been drinking. I called the police department and told them you were trying to commit suicide, so they have an APB out on you."

"What the hell Stephanie?! An APB? You seriously have an APB out?" Reluctantly, I marched into the ER with Janet holding onto one arm and Stephanie gripping the other.

I was truthful and told the medical team that I was suicidal. I told them I was going crazy in my head that my heart hurt so bad that I could not breathe. I could no longer handle the pain or waking up knowing I would never see my handsome son again.

Stephanie had called Colby and he was now in the ER room. When Colby walked in I had an enormous amount of guilt flood my soul. How in the hell could I even think about killing myself and leave him alone to deal with his brother's death. I felt like a selfish piece of shit and Colby deserved a better mother.

I allowed them to admit me to a house staffed with professionals and therapists for a three day evaluation. Stephanie and Colby took me for the intake procedure. When we walked in, Colby grabbed me and held me tight.

He looked deep into my eyes, "You don't need to be here, Mother, you are not crazy. You are one of the strongest woman I know. We can get through this." The assistant stated that because I had told them at the hospital I was suicidal, and it was recommended that they do a three day evaluation; if I were to leave they could have me arrested.

Colby agreed that the counseling and the evaluation probably was a good idea and it certainly could not hurt. I told him, "Besides, it will be three days you won't have to worry about me. John is at Stephanie's and has Ruger. I love you with all my heart and I am so sorry to put you through this."

I was scared that I would never be okay ever again. I would never laugh, live my life free of fear as I once did. How could I live without Anthony? I lost my confidant, my shoulder to cry on, my instigator of mischief and playfulness.

"I love you so much, mother." Colby said as he left. I admired my son for the strength and courage that he always had. He was always very disciplined in his own mind. He planned things ahead of time and was logical and calculated.

The psychologist did my evaluation advising me that the most important thing I needed was to sleep. She stated that the few hours of sleep at night I was getting was not near enough especially when going through extreme trauma. I was honest about my desire to drink wine and drift off into oblivion. She advised me that the wine was absolutely not a good idea and would continue to add to the depression, plus the fact that the sugar residual in wine was affecting my ability to sleep. She left the assistant with some sedatives and an anti-anxiety pills with instructions on how much I was to take and when. I wondered through the old two story house it had a lot of character. At the time there were also three other women at the house.

## Chapter Six

One lady was very heavy set, young and delusional. The other woman had crazy eyes and would not acknowledge that I was speaking to her. She looked very mean. I decided I would simply give that one her space.

There was also a young lady probably only 18 or 19; a waif of a little gal, wearing a long dress with something that looked like churros in her hair. I did not ask about them and simply said hi to her.

It was early evening and all three ladies had proceeded upstairs and gone to bed. The assistant asked me to take my sleeping pills and go to bed as well. I told her I would try to fall asleep but was not tired. I took the pills. I went upstairs and headed for my room. It was dark and I lingered down the hall to the restroom. I opened the door and the crazy eyed lady was in about one inch of water in the tub, face down and naked. I tried to close the door quietly, because I was going to go downstairs and get the little assistant that was working. She must have heard the door creak because she sat up, I swear her head turned a 180 degree turn and I was expecting her to start puking green vomit. Her eyes got very large and she let out this horrible shrill scream and told me that I was not allowed to attack her ever again. Yep, we will stay even clearer of her.

There was no way I was going to sleep and now I was scared to fall asleep because crazy eyes would come in and suffocate me with my own pillow.

I walked downstairs to the administration office and advised the young girl working that I could not sleep and that the crazy eyed lady had been in the tub facedown. She went upstairs to check on her and I started noticing people running around the building. The administration girl came back in the office and I stated, "Ugghh, did you know that we have several people..." I had not finished the sentence when I heard someone banging on the front door.

"Police Officers open up!" The officer came in and stated that they received a call from this number that a man was here and there was gunfire." Oh, goodness, the little delusional gal had found one of the cordless phones and called 911 advising that her husband was trying to kill us and was shooting guns.

I watched as the administration gal sighed asking if I would help her find all the cordless phones so they could be put in her office. She checked to be sure everyone was in bed and I went back to my room to try to sleep as well. Five minutes later, I was back in the office. "I can't sleep." She advised me to take another sleeping pill.

I noticed officers surrounding the building once again. "Police Officers open up!" I open the door to two officers. They advised that Ms. Delusional had escaped out the back door, ran down the street, banged on a women's door stating that the house was on fire. The administration lady apologizes. I realize that I am now indeed tired.

I sleep for a few hours. It wake on Saturday morning and I go downstairs to face another day. The weather is warm. It is late June, my sister Donna, calls to check on me and tells me to stay there as long as I need. John walks Ruger over to visit with me and brings me clean clothes. He stays for a few hours and we talk about life in general. John was a close confidant to me and an amazing friend. I loved having him in the summers as a house mate. He kept me grounded when I began to fly out of control at times. He cooked, cleaned, walked and played with Ruger. He was very intelligent and philosophical. He discussed some recent books he had read and made some suggestions for me to read.

Dan and Matt, friends from Anaconda, come over bringing me chocolate and soda. Matt brought me Neosporin and a box of band aids. Matt was special. I was always hurting myself and he was always giving me band aids and Neosporin. Matt, a highly intelligent man, had been an underwater welder in the service and the line had been cut. He'd spent time in a hyper barium chamber and survived. He was a sweet simple person. I called him Forest. Forest was helping me pack my house one day, with several other friends. Out of the blue he stated flatly, "Well, I'll be back. I have a few friends coming through town." A few hours later he returned. Colleen and I were in the living room packing, Renee was in the kitchen. I asked Matt, "did you get to see your friend?"

"Yep, gave them a jar of peanut butter."

"Did they want a jar of peanut butter, Matt?" Colleen was laughing and trying to tell me at the same time to stop. Too late I already had Forest. "No," He stated, "But they are driving and you can eat peanut butter on celery, crackers, banana's, apples, chips and he went on with a list of about thirty things to eat Peanut butter on. Colleen and I were howling. Renee was laughing and getting after me to get more boxes packed.

Dan was a dear friend in love with my friend Lisa. Lisa was a talented musician, singing and playing guitar. She had an amazing voice and I swear she channeled Janis Joplin when she sang. Dan and Matt made sure I did not need anything else and left me with my chocolate, soda and big hugs.

Crazy eye sat across the yard and stared at me and my friends for a few hours and smoked one cigarette after another. When all my friends left, she came over to me and told me that I had better not try to "Get her," again. I simply walked away feeling sorry for her. I felt even more sorry for the little delusional gal who was chasing ghost butterflies in the yard and crying because she would catch them and they would fly away.

Maybe Colby was right. I did not need to be here. I spoke with the psychologist telling her that it took at least four pills before I fell asleep. She left me a few stronger sleep aids for the night. I cried my heart out and explained to her that I felt lost and did not know how I would ever be okay. She went through the stages of grieving with me. I did not acknowledge one word she said. To tell me that grieving was a process was something I could not even comprehend. What process? My son is dead, he is now ashes. What process could there be to ever take that pain away from me, Colby or the rest of my family. Anthony raised Colby, why must Colby suffer too? She advised me that in time it would get easier, and again advised that I had to try to sleep more than a few hours at night. She advised me she would see me Sunday and left.

I was in no mood to sit and watch TV with Ms. Delusional and I really did not want to go upstairs with Crazy eyes. I chose to go up to my room and shut the door to read and hopefully sleep. I slept a few hours but did not feel suicidal anymore. I realized in the peace of that room that I could not put my family through more traumas and it had been a very selfish thought. Colby's birthday was in a few days.

I asked the psychologist on Sunday, if I could go home. She said, "No, not if I you live alone." I explained to her that I lived with my boyfriend, on a ranch and being around the animals, horses and the mountains would be the best for me right now. I called Bill to pick me up. Bill was a sweet man and excited to have me coming back out to Deer Lodge with him. Bill had no idea how to deal with my grief and no understanding of the pain that I was in. I did feel safe out there though, with the horses, four wheelers, dogs and race track campground right behind me. It was a beautiful area and I loved horseback riding.

Colby's 21st birthday rolled up on June 17. Anthony and Colby had previously made plans to celebrate it. I felt blessed with such great friends many who came to Montana to help my son celebrate. I know everyone was still in shock so I am not sure how much of a celebration it was. They went out to Bills and went shooting. One of Anthony's favorites was groundhog hunting.

Renee, a dear friend mine, suggested that I get back to work doing something, anything to get me out of the house and interacting with people again. She asked her close friend to hire me to manage a small video store. It would be an easy job with only a handful of employees and a very simple management. It was a lot different than managing over one hundred and twenty associates.

I agreed that it would be a good idea so I accepted and looked forward to normalizing my life. I went to work, assisted the associates and went home. On my days off, I would get a big bottle of wine and lock myself in my room, pushing the dresser in front of my bedroom door so Bill could not come in. Sometimes, I would schedule myself and forget to go to work. I was drowning my pain and only becoming more depressed. I found pleasure in nothing.

Around four or five weeks after Anthony's death, my mother called to inform me that we lost another family member, a young man shot and killed at the age of 19. I remember praying for the family and asking God if he was creating an Army of Warriors by taking all our good guys. I did not go home for the service. I simply couldn't. I was walking through life in a daze.

My sister, Kathi asked me to come home and spend a few days with her. I would tell her sure and it would take me days to get enough strength to get back on that long stretch of interstate. I would tell her, I'll come tomorrow. Tomorrow would come and I would tell her, I'll come tomorrow. This would go on for about five days and then I would finally drag myself to the car, dreading the drive, but wanting to be with my sister. I could not drive more than forty-five minutes at a time before I had to pull over and sleep. A four hour drive would take me eight to twelve because I simply could not stay awake. I tried audio books to keep my mind busy. It actually helped if I got a good suspense story.

I was Stephanie's coach for labor so I did not stay long in Idaho. It was helpful to be with my sister though. Both of my sister's are a pillar of support for me.

September rolled around and early in the morning on the 7th, Bill woke me to tell me Stephanie was in labor. I jumped up, and headed out the door. As I was getting into the car, Bill yelled at me to come back in the house and get some pants on! I was leaving in a t-shirt and underwear. I had a 35 minute drive and I did not want to miss her baby being born. I was so excited.

I got to the hospital. Stephanie was in a great deal of pain. Her contractions were close and the nurse advised that she would get the anesthesiologist for an epidural. Lord that guy was taking way too long. I found him in the hall and yelled at him to hurry it up. The doctor would tell Stephanie to push and she would swing her hips from side to side. The doctor looked at me and said, "Tell her to stop that." Only Stephanie! Shortly after, little Lavin was born. Such a beautiful baby! Vyron, her oldest son was in the room and came over sat on my lap and I think he was in a little bit of shock. I cried with enjoyment, the first little ounce of enjoyment I had genuinely felt since Anthony's death.

I found a grief counseling class to join hoping it would help. It did but I was so mentally checked out by this time that I literally got sick to my stomach when someone would say, "It gets better with time."

No, it does not. And the four stages of grief that I was expected to go through. There was only one stage for me. Pain. I missed my son!

A well known Butte native died at the end of November in 2007. I had a really great employee working for me, Heath. Heath had become a good friend and confidant, plus he was extremely handsome and always made me smile. I advised that I was going to the funeral services of our locally known motorcycle enthusiast.

"You sure that is a good idea?"

"No, but something is telling me to go. I am going to go."

"Well, I don't suggest you go alone."

"Sabrina and Glenn will be there. Glenn grew up with one of his boys. "

"I will go with you. I still don't think this is a good idea but if you want to go, I am taking you."

Heath went with me and during the service Matthew McConahugh spoke. He stated in reference to motorcycles, what better way it would be to go out of life but on a high. Anthony did leave on a high I am sure, an adrenal rush and doing what he loved to do. I found solstice in what he said and had found a little internal pocket of peace for the first time since his loss.

Colby and I talked about me going back to Idaho for awhile. Colby had gotten into MMA at this time and he encouraged me to go to my sister, Kathi's house. He was still fearful that I would hurt myself. He had taken all of my guns to his house so I had no access to them. Kathi, my sister, often checked on me. She called Bill's house mid December and asked him how I was doing. Bill replied to her, "I would wake her up but she is sleeping. She told me that if I wake her up again she had a knife under her pillow would stab me."

Oh, that was not something to tell my sister. She called me the next morning and told me to pack my bags and get to her house or she was coming after me. I told her I would quit the video store and be there by January 1st.

I packed my bags and on January 1st drove the four hour trip in eight hours. I arrived at my sister's in a snow storm late at night. I could not even pull up into her driveway. Her beautiful home sat at the top of a canyon and steep driveway. Damon, my sister's husband, came out in his long underwear and boots and pushed my car up the hill. I found that very sweet and found humor in his willingness to come out into a snow storm to push me up the hill in his long underwear.

I wanted to get a job and find an apartment and get back on my feet. I found a job immediately in a call center and advised HR staff that as soon as operational management positions became available that I would be interested in moving up. I met a few fun friends on that job. Richard and Feithline were a riot. Sometimes they were the only reason I wanted to go to work. I really did not like the job but they would always make me laugh.

I looked at apartments, but I was afraid to live alone. I was afraid to be alone at night. I did not want to tell my sister and brother-in-law to know that I was too afraid to live alone. Damon tried to talk to me about it one night. I think he knew I was scared. I did not want to admit my fear or worry anyone. I was grateful for everything they did for me, but decided I would give a two week notice and go back to Montana. I really did not know what I wanted.

I cried myself to sleep that night and woke to see a sliver of moonlight through the curtains, in the corner of the room was my dead son, Anthony. He was huge, all white with big beautiful iridescent wings. He was just watching over me. I heard him say, "Ma, you need to live and be happy. I am guarding others and am happy. I want you to be happy. Please stop torturing yourself. I love you and will always be by your side." He slowly faded into the midst of that sliver of moonlight. I cried myself to sleep once again. I just wanted him back.

The next morning, I was job searching on line. I found a position for a Travel Agency Manager at a high end office in Little Rock, Arkansas. I flew in to interview finding the current manager, Sugar, a doll. I really wanted to make this move and work for her. Michael my adopted son was in Little Rock and picked me up that evening. He kept saying, "I can't believe you are here."

We went to dinner and reminisced about all the old times and all the things he and Anthony had done. I flew back to Idaho the next day. Within the week Sugar called and offered me the position, my bags were packed and I was ready to go. Then I realized that I could not leave Colby. How could I move that far and leave him to grieve alone. No, I could not take the position. I called Sugar and explained my situation to her.

I was preparing to go back to Montana when an opportunity to babysit my sister's grandson Riley came up. He was such a bright light in my darkness at two and a half years of age. We would go for walks together and if a plane flew overhead, he would grab my hand and yell, "Run! I will be your hero!" Life is such fun in the eyes of a child. I found genuine happiness in those brief moments, but they were brief. As soon as I began to feel happy, I would be overwhelmed with guilt. I was not to be happy ever again. I beat myself up thinking over and over that I should have been a better mother.

Before leaving Idaho I was informed that my father was in ICU. I joined my sister's in Burley. I sat in the car in the parking lot for the longest time. I did not want to walk through those doors. I hated hospitals. I finally told myself I was being ridiculous and that I needed to be there for my father. I walked into the hospital. As I approached the ICU door, my head became foggy, my legs weak, and I felt as if I was going to faint. I broke down. I could not get through the ICU doors. My sister, Donna, came out and sat with me as I sobbed on her shoulder. She gave me the strength to walk thru the doors. In my head I heard that horrible scream and pictured walking in and my son being on a gurney. I had to do it for my dad. What I could not explain to anyone is that scream that goes through my head gets so loud I hear nothing around me. I would become unconscious to the world around me, time frozen and still and that scream going on and on.

We found out that my father had bone and lung cancer. It was advised that he started radiation treatment, which he did. Shortly after his treatments began we were advised the radiation was slowing down the lung cancer but accelerating the bone cancer. I was losing my father. He lived with his girlfriend Rhonda of several years. We spent a lot of time visiting with him. He was in good spirits most of the time, but I also could tell he was in a lot of pain.

In the midst of all this, I had applied for a Customer Relations Management position at a respected hotel and moved back to Montana and back to Bill's ranch.

I still hated life. It was hard to focus and get through a day at the hotel. I loved working for the previous manager, but right after I started, was advised she would be a director over all the owners' hotels and his daughter would be the manager. I found that to be a joke, the daughter had no management skills or people skills and a few of us immediately looked for other jobs and options. I was disappointed because I loved the property and the associates. A bad manager can turn an apple cart over, create a mess and destroy any happiness or existence of morale.

I dreamed of Anthony often and in one dream, that was so real, he told me that he had played a joke on me and was not dead. He was flying around in some funky 21st century aircraft. I woke up that morning so excited to see him. I truly believed he was still alive. I was distraught when I realized it was only a dream and he was still gone.

Memorial weekend of 2008 came about quickly. My son Colby came out on Saturday night and advised me that my father only had a few days left. I advised him that it had only been a year ago that Anthony had died. My son died May 26, 2007 and my father passed May 27, 2008. I headed back to Burley to be at the same funeral home the Saturday after Memorial weekend for another loss. The mortuary owner addressed me during the service saying he knew how hard it must be to be in the same place as the year before to mourn the loss of my son. I could not talk. I went through the motions of seeing family and friends in a total state of numbness.

My son had been taken early while on one of his adrenalin highs, and then we had watched my father suffer in pain and lose his battle with cancer.

I was questioning my belief in God at this point, angels and any spirituality I had.

"My bones are in agony. My Soul is in anguish. How long, O Lord, how long?" (Psalm 6:2-3)

I hurt physically, my bones ached. I felt as if I had no spirit and no soul. I spent many hours behind one of the barns, throwing glass. Hearing the glass shatter would help me to release some of the anger that I felt. I remember distinctively hearing Bill yell at me, "Honey no, please do not do that you could hurt yourself." With anger and fire in my eyes, I flatly said, "Go get me some safety glasses then." I broke a lot of glass.

I also did a lot of talking to God. What little belief I had left that there was a God and that our existence on earth was to suffer in pain.

I would ask him a question and throw another piece of glass.

"You always gave me great premonition and showed me in dreams losses before they happened, so we could be prepared. I dreamed a few nights before Grandpa died that he passed. When my mother's best friend Helen died, I knew it and was able to call my mother and tell her to check on Helen because I thought she just died. She had. You showed me accidents ahead on the interstate so I would know to slow down. You always gave me a sign- Why? Why didn't you give a sign so I could protect him? I could have warned him not to ride his bike that day. I am so angry With you!"

More glass would shatter and I would drink more wine.

I could have been the perfect poster adult for what not to do in the grieving process. In the grieving process it is suggested to postpone big decisions, to lean into your grief. It is advisable to not rush into remarriage or committed relationships. To not deal with people who wish to rush or deal with things that you are not ready or that you can't deal with. Do not bury the pain with substances.

Bill and I were living in a beautiful area. We had horses and four wheelers. But I was not happy with my current relationship or my current job position. I was working a job that was not a career choice. I was bored and disliked the current manager.

## Chapter Seven

So I did the very thing a person who is grieving should not do. I made a choice to move to Havre, Montana close to the Canadian border. I felt I should be away from my family and my friends so they would not have to see me suffering in pain. I was not coming out of this pain or finding any happiness and I did not want them to see that I was failing and that I was not strong enough to go forward. I was hoping the move, change, get my career back on track and do something that my son could be proud of me for. I accepted a job for a hotel as a sales manager packed my bags and left Deer Lodge.

The night before I left for Havre I woke up in the middle of the night to Anthony's voice. I felt him in the room with me.

"Ma, stay here and give it more time. Good things will come. You live in a beautiful location and you're at peace when you're around the horses. You are not going to like Havre."

"I have to get out of here Anthony."

"You are running again. Please stop."

I continued to think about what I heard, felt and thought, but figured again, that my head was messing with me and my crazy was coming out. I was going crazy again.

I found the sales manager position boring but I liked the manager. I was still depressed. I liked the employees there but woke every morning hating life and saw only darkness. It was cold up her on the hi-line. I hated everything but I tried to make the best of it and began to get out and socialize a little. I still had high hopes that a good change would come of this move. I met a nice guy. For the sake of privacy I will refer to him as Richard Cranium, which is polite for Dick Head. Richard had lost his younger brother on the brother's twenty-first birthday. When I first met Richard, I found him to be incredibly sweet. He was talented and artistic. He had a shop in his garage in which he did beautiful wood work with exotic woods. His work was amazing. I had fun with him and enjoyed helping him in the shop. I felt that he understood and could help me assist Colby with understanding what it would be like to lose a brother so young. Our relationship grew and we spent every day together. He advised me that I could stay with him until I knew whether I was going to move back to Butte or not.

I was still scared of being alone at night. I moved in with Richard and started applying for new jobs. I wanted something fun and exciting that would allow me the opportunity for career growth. I found a temporary job immediately with the United States Census Bureau. I supervised a team across the state of Montana and loved it. I traveled a lot to meet enumerators. Ruger and I stayed in numerous hotels throughout the state. I was rarely at Richard's house.

I was at the hotel in Great Falls, extremely tired from a long day I fell asleep on top of the bed fully clothed in my day's attire. I dreamed I was in this beautiful amazing mountainous green forest I could smell spring flowers fresh rain and Anthony was with me. His motorcycle was between two trees. I found it odd he had rode his bike out here into this forest area filled with trees.

He spoke to me, "Please start living life again. Please stop feeling guilt. You are pissing me off. You used to really live life, to the fullest. Now you work and drink. You are killing yourself."

I woke sobbing and remembered a trip I had taken with Anthony right before his High School graduation. On that trip Anthony told me through tears, "Mom, you have so much talent, you are artistic and creative. You are not using your gifts that you have. You are a natural healer and you know how to do energy work to help people. I want you to write that book that we have talked about since I was a child. You are not using your gifts Ma and you are pissing me off." I had to pull off to the side of the road because I began crying and Anthony was crying too. I always advised my son to be up front and honest. He was right. I had gotten lost somewhere along the way and was giving priority to finding the right man so Colby could have the family life that he wanted. I used to make great decisions and dated some wonderful men, but at that time I was with Garvin. Garvin was not the best for me, not saying he was a bad guy, but we were too different from each other. I was outgoing and social, he was used to being on a tractor and communicated in his own head. I hugged my son and thanked him for being so honest with me.

The memory of that day and conversation faded. I was hearing again what he had told me when he was alive. I quit sobbing and began getting dressed for the day when another memory flooded over me. I felt Anthony's presence so strongly that I began speaking out loud to him.

"Anthony, do you remember the day you had the rinophlasty surgery done in Sun Valley?"

"Yes and I remember you getting pulled over on the way to the hospital for passing in a no passing zone because we were running late!"

"I remember yelling at the nurse when she said I could not sit with you in recovery."

"Ma, you always made those nurses nuts, through every surgery. You wanted to be in the surgical room with me through each and every surgery. You were obnoxious to the staff if they did not let you in recovery immediately when I got out."

"I did. I was always so scared."

"I love you for that. I love you for always being there when I woke up. I recall every surgery, grabbing your hand when I would be coming too and telling you how very very much I loved you and appreciated you."

I wanted to burst out crying, I felt Anthony so strongly and wanted to see him, touch him, know he was really there with me.

"Don't cry Ma, please. Remember the happy times. Remember the trip home from Sun Valley that day. Top down on the Mustang, me on pain meds and you flying down the back roads. Lacy asked you to pull over and get the fake boobs out of the trunk so she could wear them. Lacy strapped those darn fake boobs on and proudly sat in the middle of the back seat, cheerfully waving at every truck, car and tractor that we passed. You corrupted her! And you two laughed so hard that I rested peacefully in the passenger seat to the sound of your laughter. It is time to laugh again!"

I felt my son's presence fade and sat down in the middle of the hotel room floor and cried until I had no tear left to shed.

I had work to do, enumerators to meet with, reports to be completed, and a dog that was begging to be walked. I got up and pushed through the day, with Anthony in my head and my heart.

A few nights later, I was walking Ruger along the river that ran next to our hotel. I stopped and spoke with many tourists and watched a beautiful sunset from my patio. The evening was quiet and peaceful, I heard Anthony say, "Duck, duck, roll, roll, duck." I looked in the hall and nobody was around. I then heard it again, duck, duck, roll, roll, duck. There is no one but I hear it loud and clear as if Anthony is standing next to me. I swear I am losing it again. I am hearing my son and talking to him. I am in need of help.

That night I dreamed that I was with Anthony and Colby in these beautiful green mountains. It was so real, I could smell the air, Anthony's cologne and the fresh grass. We were contemplating pushing Colby down the hill in a shopping cart. Which is something we would have really done? I asked Anthony, "This is so beautiful, where are we?"

"We are in Hammmbuuurg! " Anthony had an emphasis in his usual funny tone when he said Hamburg and had this shit eating' grin when he said it.

"It is so beautiful here." I said then woke to the sound of my alarm. I shut it off and tried desperately to go back to sleep. I wanted to go back to be with him in Hamburg, again. I wanted to stay where he was. I got up frustrated in the realization that it was only a dream. A dream that felt real.

I continued over the next several months to work through phase one of the census and got recognition from the census bureau for a job well done and had great feedback from the enumerators that reported to me, when our assignment was over.

I had started noticing that when I came home after being on the road for days or weeks at a time, that Richard had quit cleaning up after himself. The house had not been cleaned, there were glasses in the sink so long they were molding, and he was not showering daily. I asked if he was depressed and he was. His mother had been upsetting him. She had a way of putting him down in her own subtle way.

I also noticed that after being gone during an average week there would be at least two half empty gallon bottles of vodka. I drank too, so I did not want to criticize him about the alcohol but I was concerned about his mental state. He was only working about two hours a week in his shop, if at all, there was next to no production being done. He was playing poker on his computer and always yelling out how much money he made, getting up and jumping up and down waving his arms like a child.

In an attempt to get him out of the house and into the world of reality I stated one evening, "Hey there is a live band playing just down the street at the pub. Do you want to go? They sounded great!"

He agreed even showering and dressing up. We joined with a few local friends and listened to music, danced and ate. It was getting late in the evening and I noticed a young man that I had never seen before staring at me. I would look away and look back, he would still be staring. When he would look away, I found myself starting at him. I walked over to him and asked him who he was. He stated his name and said that he was from the East Coast. "I was in the military and one of my friends from the service lives in Great Falls. I flew into see him. How we ended up in a city called, Rudyard! I will never know."

"I noticed you have an interesting tattoo on your arm – it looks exactly like one my son had. What is your story on that tattoo?" Everyone has a story or reason for their tattoos. I remembered when I got a tattoo at the age of twenty-nine, Anthony loved it and thought it was great! Colby told me, "You better go wash that off before dad sees it!" I had been divorced from Curtis, for quite some time so it was strange for Colby to tell me to wash it off. The memory flashed and I refocused on the young man again. "Your tattoo, do you have a story?"

The young man's eyes grew distant, "When I was in Iraq I was shot in the back a few times. I felt the first two shots and then heard someone yell, "Duck, duck, roll, roll, duck. I stayed in one spot after that last duck, fearing that I was going to die and the next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital in Hamburg, Germany. There was a young man with beautiful blue eyes who sat with me everyday and sometimes, he would simply tell me, that I was going to make it. I always admired his tattoo on his shoulder/bicep area. It was colorful and at that time really the only color I could see. I looked forward to seeing him. I woke up one morning with many men from my platoon standing around me, congratulating me that I was going to be okay. I asked the guys where the young man was with the tattoo. They all stared blankly at me. You have been in isolation dude, nobody has been in here expect Doctors and Nurses until today. I knew I had help getting through those gunshot wounds and I got the same tattoo to always remember that I am not alone."

Teary eyed- I looked at the young man and simply said, "My son died two years ago and had that same tattoo." We both talked some more stating it was strange for us to meet. We hugged each other and both shed some tears. We did not say anything else to each other, just stared deep into each other's eyes as if time was standing still. The young man left and I firmly believe that Anthony was his guardian angel during that time.

Richard and I were fighting on a daily basis. My depression was becoming deeper. I began having night terrors and would often wake up sitting straight up in bed screaming. I realized that I had made a very poor choice in moving in with Richard and knew that I needed out of the relationship. One day I asked myself, "How did I even get here?"

I was drinking every evening after work and it was beginning to concern me. I had gone from drinking wine to vodka. I had also realized that Richard not only had a drinking problem but some serious mental issues as well. He could not work a steady job. He could not even put in a few hours out in the shop. He started talking about being a killer with biker gang. He was drunk so I did not pay too much attention to his story of taking out seventeen men across the US. However, I was curious and I checked out the gang on-line. They were a Christian bike club. He carried on about making all this money playing poker and how he was going to Las Vegas to be a professional dart player. He also stated he was a professional bowler. I learned to tolerate his fictitious world and tried to ignore his mental and verbal abuse of me. The job at the census had renewed my self-esteem and I realized that I could again be a productive leader and was excited and determined to find a new job to utilize my years of experience in management.

One afternoon I went down to round Richard up from the bar. He was so hammered I began talking to a nice fellow named Jeff. Jeff basically wanted to be reclusive and had bought a bachelor pad outside of Rudyard. Jeff and I began to talk and became good friends in a short period of time. He made me laugh and we had an immediate attraction to one another. I found him eccentric and he continued to help me with my self esteem with loving comments. If he called and I was down he would sing, Mack the Knife to me. I had told him that it was one of my favorite songs that Bobby Darin sang. He was funny, he left me a message one morning, "Wake up, wake up, I am stalking you. I have stockings on." He was so strange and bizarre that I simply enjoyed his light hearted nature. Richard, at this point, was a boring, angry volatile person to be around. He had recently returned from visiting his mother and brought home an old "gang member" friend of his. A huge Native American man, who had just been released from prison for stabbing his girlfriend. We will simply call him Big Richard because he was a big dick head. I could not stand him.

Richard and Big Richard did nothing but drink all day, eat and sleep. Big Richard had the freezer cleaned out within a week. I have no idea where they were getting the money for vodka but they always had a few half gallon jugs sitting around. I often left the house with my dog and would go find Jeff to hang out with to get away from the two of them. Richard had now become more verbally abusive with a friend he could show of his power too. Richard was also making comments that scared me about Ruger.

"If that dog bites someone, it will be mother that gets sued. My mother owns this house you know. I think you better get rid of that dog! He bites."

"He bites at you because you tease and pester him. Maybe he just knows that you are a jerk and dogs have great instincts about humans. I don't think he likes you. You have turned into an abusive drunk."

"You are a drunk and I am calling my mother."

"Oh my Gawd!" I would think to myself. Call your mother. What the hell is she going to do. Agree with me that you are in need of serious help. I have to get out of this relationship the sooner the better. "I left and drove to Havre to do some shopping. When I got home, Richard and Big Richard had gotten into a drunken brawl. Richard told Big Richard to pack a bag, he was taking him to the reservation and he could find a friend to stay with for awhile.

"Good Riddance." I yelled as they walked out the door. The house was horrible. The place looked like a drug pad, there were beer cans all over the floor, and piss on the bathroom floor. Guess you can't aim well when your eyes can't focus. The house seriously stunk and his damn snake, Sneaky, had gotten out. Great! Another day in paradise. I thought back to my house in Anaconda, and wondered again, how I had allowed myself to get into a situation as such. I wondered how I ended up with an abusive man. When my associates used to talk to me about domestic abuse and situations they were in, it was so easy to say "leave them." Well, now I was finding out it might not be so easy.

I called a local counselor making an appointment and drove back into Havre. I also went to my dear friend who was a nurse. We met in her office and she advised me that I needed to get back on anti-depressants. I loved Connie. She listened as we talked in her office.

The counselor did not tell me anything that I did not already know. I had to get out of the relationship.

I got home to find Richard passed out in the basement. He was back from his personal delivery of Big Richard to the reservation. I put on gloves and another pair of gloves over those gloves. I scrubbed the house down, got rid of the beer cans, ashtrays, cigarette butts and headed to the kitchen to try to clean it up. After washing and drying all the dishes, I began to put them away. I opened the silverware drawer and let out a blood curdling scream! I found had found the snake.

I was offered a position as a supervisor in Census Control Measurement, another phase of the census. I accepted the position. It meant that it would get me away from the nightmare house I was residing in and give me more money to get my own place in town. I had been looking for an apartment but was struggling because I had Ruger, my beloved tyrant.

The position would be starting in two weeks. They asked me to spend a full week in Billings to conduct the training. I advised Richard that I would be going on the road again and he was none too pleased. He started belittling me. He was shaking uncontrollably.

"Hey, what is going on with you?" I asked.

"I don't know, I feel horrible. Go get me more vodka."

"Nope, I am not going to get you more vodka. I need to get my belongings organized Richard. I am moving out as soon as I find a place that will allow me to have Ruger."

"If you loved me, you would go get me more vodka. I am shaking too bad to go myself."

"Too bad, drink some water. You are shaking because of the alcohol most likely. You need to drink water."

"You fucking bitch. You are a fucking pig and a slut. Get out of my house!"

"Not a problem." I picked up my purse, my dog and simply went and got a hotel room. I knew he would pass out or go get himself more vodka. I had gone through this with before, being told to leave was nothing new. Being called names was nothing new.

Within five hours my cell phone rang non-stop. I answered it knowing it was Richard.

"Where are you?"

"In Havre at my girlfriend's hotel. I am not tolerating your abuse."

"Please come home. I love you and am sorry. I took Big Richard to the reservation so that I could have all my time with just you before you go back to work and on the road again."

"Get some sleep. If you love me, it is a sick love and I am moving out as soon as possible. I think we would be better off as just friends."

"Please come home, honey. I will come and get you. I need you home with me."

"I can tell you have been drinking. Just get some sleep. I will be back tomorrow and we can talk then."

I spent the evening with a few girlfriends and drove home the next morning. Richard was shaking really bad, sitting at his computer with a glass of straight vodka in his hand. I got him a large glass of ice-water and tried to get him to drink it. His eyes were glossy and I knew this was not good.

"I think you need to go to the emergency room."

"I am not going anywhere."

"Fine, I am going out to work in the floral garden. I will check on you shortly." I was only outside about fifteen minutes and went back in to check on him and try once again to get him to go to ER.

"You could die. I really think you need to go to ER." He did not answer me but he did get up and put his shoes on. I took that as a sign he was willing to go, although he did not say anything. I drove him to the ER. He was in really bad shape. They admitted him into ICU where he detoxed for two days. They moved him to a regular room for observation for a third day and released him to come home.

I spoke with his mother over those three days. I actually felt sorry for her. She too had lost a son and I understood that she had given Richard numerous chances to get his life back together. He either destroyed the opportunity with drugs or alcohol. I had not known about his propensity to use meth. I knew he was currently only abusing alcohol. I abused alcohol too so I understood his alcohol addiction to a degree. I could not understand drinking 24/7 and not being able to work or to drink until your blood alcohol was so high that you could go into a coma. I explained to her that Richards's alcohol showed approximately a .295 and that the ER doctors stated he could die or go into a coma.

She explained to me that she recently paid to send him to truck driving school so he would have a career of some kind. His first week on the job, he got stopped going through a weigh check in and was reported for alcohol. He was drunk and given a DUI so his truck driving career was a waste of money. He lied to her and stated that somebody must have put that 151 in his water bottle. He thought he was only drinking water when he realized it was not. She said she bought the house in Rudyard, so he could have a relationship with his father and get a new life. Obviously he was not ready for that. She blamed his drinking abuse on his father, who had moved clear across the state when Richard arrived in Montana.

I brought Richard home from the hospital his kind and sweet self again. Professing his love for me and wanting a future together. I encouraged him to sleep and rest. I had removed all alcohol from the house and he was adamant about never drinking again. He continued to reassure me that he was done and hoped I would reconsider moving out and give him another chance. I was in a sick relationship and I knew it. Out of shame, I never told anyone in my family or my friends how bad the relationship was. I had gotten myself into this relationship on my own and I would get out of it on my own. I was honestly very embarrassed to find myself in an abusive volatile relationship.

He slept the majority of the day and I called on the few rentals in Havre, hoping to find something that would allow me to have Ruger. All of the places cited no pets and no smoking. I knew in my heart I would find something but was becoming anxious and wanted out. Richard slept all day and night.

He was fine the next day and told me that little Johnny had asked us to go to dinner with him and a guy named Mike. Mike's wife was in the nursing home and Mike was lonely. We all went to dinner. During dinner, Richard began drinking again and belittling me. He made gestures as if he was going to slap me upside the head and snide remarks.

I excused myself and went to the restroom. "Don't go home tonight. Get a room." I looked for someone else in the restroom. Nobody was in there. I even looked under the next bathroom stall thinking it was a joke or again going crazy with hearing voices. "Don't go home with him." I heard again and brushed it off thinking it was my imagination.

I awoke the next morning to Johnny, the next door neighbor, banging on the door, yelling for Richard to help him. They both went running down the street, only to find Mike sitting up in his chair, dead. When Johnny came after Richard, he had already been down to Mike's and knew Mike was dead. Why he didn't call 911 then I have no idea. Johnny called 911 and the Sheriff's office that was approximately forty miles away in the town of Havre. Richard ran back to the house guzzled some vodka; I saw him pop some pills and run back down the street to Mikes house. He explained to the officer's how he and Johnny found Mike. Well, Johnny and Richard had also cleaned the house of any pain medications and other prescriptions that Mike had been on. The Sheriff's tried to get a statement from both of them. Johnny gave a statement. Richard gave the Sheriff a brief statement and advised them that he was on Valium and would be going home.

He came home and was dramatic, continuing to drink more and becoming more dramatic. That afternoon Richard became extremely verbally abusive. I decided to drive into town and get a room for the night. I knew that this was not going to get better and he was worse than I had ever seen him. I also noted that he kept popping pills and guzzling vodka.

I went to the back room, packed a bag, and picked up Ruger. With my hands full, Richard came flying out of his chair wild eyed yelling, "You are not going anywhere!"

I remember reaching for my purse. The next thing I remember was waking up in a pool of blood. It was early in the morning and Ruger was sleeping on my chest. I pulled myself up off the floor and looked in a mirror. Both my eyes were both black and blue. My left check was swollen and my left eye swollen almost closed. Everything in front of me was blurry. My head hurt beyond belief, my mouth was in excruciating pain. My chest, my ribs, and my shoulders were bruised.

Richard was passed out. I gathered up Ruger and drove myself the forty miles to the ER in Havre. I was too embarrassed to tell the staff at the ER what happened so I simply said I wrecked on a four wheeler. I knew Richard had beat me but had no memory of how or what happened. They gave me pain killers, told me not to take them until I got home and to be back early the next morning for surgery. My jaw had been severely broken and would have to be wired shut. They contacted a surgeon and scheduled an appointment for me early the next morning.

My head was very foggy, but I drove back to the house. I wanted clothes but I still do not know why I drove back. I look back now and wonder if I simply wanted Richard to take accountability and acknowledge what he had done. It was not the wisest move to make but I honestly was not thinking clearly. I was in shock and disbelief that this was really happening.

I pulled up and there was an ambulance next door. They were taking Johnny to the ER room. Richard was running around the house yelling, "Not Johnny! Not Johnny too!"

"Why did you hit me last night," I asked him in tears. Seeking an apology of some kind?

His frantic concern over Johnny came to an immediate halt and he looked at me with ice cold eyes. "You deserved it." He then went back to his frantic ramblings about his concern for Johnny. I was in shock and numb. I suggested that he follow them to the hospital to check on Johnny. As soon as I saw his van turn the corner, I grabbed Ruger and ran across the street to Johnny's house. I was fearful that Richard would change his mind and come back instead of following the ambulance to the Chester Hospital. I used Johnny's phone to call the Sheriff's office.

Sheriff Dwyer and Sheriff Reichelt arrived with another patrol unit. I advised Sheriff Dwyer that Richard had beaten me. She took numerous photos of my face, my jaw, my chest and shoulders. I explained the previous abuse was always mentally and verbally.

After the officers took my statement, I advised them that Richard had followed the ambulance to Chester. The officers waited for Richard to come home and arrested him. Sheriff Dwyer advised me that Richard was in jail. I tried to clean up all the blood. I realized that from the spot I was standing when he hit me to where I had landed was probably a good twenty feet across the room.

I got up on Monday morning in excruciating pain and drove myself to my scheduled surgery. The staff was concerned about me having nobody to drive me home after the surgery. It made me realized how alone and isolated I really was.

When I came out of surgery the surgeon was trying to wake me up. I panicked because I could not breathe through my nose. I was hitting him and freaking out. I realized I was okay and could breathe and even talk if I needed to. What a horrible feeling. Sheriff Dwyer was there with flowers. She was an amazing. At that point in my life, she probably saved it in more ways than one. She had made arrangements with the safe house through the victims of domestic violence. She had coordinated someone to pick me up and to take care of Ruger. There was a woman named Louise at the house and they wanted me to stay there a few days so I was not alone. If I were to get sick and throw up, I could die. She was instructed that if I got sick to cut the wires on my mouth immediately. Louise sat by my bed for a long time and checked on me often. She kept a pair of pliers on her at all times.

The advocate lived next door and was sweet enough to keep Ruger for me. After a few days, I inquired if Richard was still in jail. I was advised that he was. On Thursday afternoon I went back to the house. I needed to prepare for the class I was teaching in Billings the next week. My surgeon told me not to work for six weeks. I argued with the surgeon explaining that I was on a temporary assignment and that I needed to work. It was not an option. I was working because I was taking that money and getting the hell out of Richards's house before he got out of jail.

I called my boss and explained that I had broken my jaw. I lied saying I had done it in a four wheeler accident. I was in no way going to play the victim role. I got myself into this mess and I would get myself out.

The census was wonderful. They hired three assistants to help me with the class. I did a lot of writing to them to avoid speaking. Everyday around noon I wished I had taken my doctors advice and not gone back to work. I was getting horrible migraines. I could not take a pain killer and go to work. I was hungry too. I had to get creative for meals as I quickly tired of milkshakes. I made it through the training week. I returned to his house and packed my belongings. Johnny and I moved everything to one of Johnny's empty buildings and I began searching for an apartment. I refused to give up and applied for full time jobs. There were not a lot of options in Havre and I really did not want to stay up there so I applied throughout the western part of Montana, including Butte.

It was the fall of 2009 and I continued to lie to my family and my friends. I was still mourning Anthony and my father. I was damn sure not going to put any of my stupid decisions on them or have them worrying about me.

I worked my position as a supervisor for control measurement. I loved what I was doing and found it very interesting and had a great team. I became good friend with a woman named Louise and began going to church with her on Sundays. I was trying to find a way to forgive because I was so angry about the death of my son. I found a cute furnished apartment in Havre that allowed me to have Ruger. I was still searching for another job knowing that the census would be temporary and would last approximately four to seven more weeks. Louise introduced me to a few more ladies, Lauretta, Emma and Carrie. I was still drinking in the evenings and really wanted to stop drinking all together. I joined a bible study class with the ladies and a support group for alcoholics. Carrie led our bible study group and our support group. Sheriff Dwyer stayed in close touch and gave me a lot of encouragement. I was lucky to know such amazing women.

I was out one afternoon with an enumerator so my phone was shut off because most places we went the phone did not work anyway. I pulled into Wal-Mart and received a call from one of the Sheriff's. "Where are you?" He asked adamantly.

"At Wal-Mart. Why?"

"Do not get out of the car. Stay there until someone comes to get you and keep your doors locked."

"You are just up the hill behind me. I will be right there because I will have enumerators scheduled to meet with this morning."

I drove the short distance to the Sheriff's office. I walked in and was immediately rushed into a small room where the sheriff sat on one side and I on the other.

"Where were you yesterday?" He asked with a voice of genuine concern. "We left you several messages."

My mind began racing. Now what had Richard done, slit his own throat and accused me? "I was in the field with an enumerator, all day long. We had a lot of ground to cover."

"Did you go to Richard's, call him or see him?" He asked.

"No, I have a place in town and as far as I know he does not know where I live. Why, just what the hell is going on? Is he dead? Did he beat someone else up? Did someone beat him up?"

"He called us yesterday late afternoon. He said you had a gun and that you were going to kill yourself. We drove over to his house, the house doors were wide open, his van gone and he was nowhere to be found. We recruited everyone and have been searching ponds and side roads, thinking we were going to find you dead somewhere."

"Lovely." I flatly stated. "Well, I am not dead and you can call the enumerator I was with to verify that I was with him and the long hours we worked yesterday." I provided the Sheriff the enumerator's name and phone contact.

The sheriff talked to me for awhile making sure I was not suicidal. He let me leave after I gave him my new physical address so they could check on me. I gave him my tentative work schedule and the dates that I would be in other cities working.

I was on business in Great Falls and was staying at a property close to the river again. I walked Ruger and went back to the hotel. I found the business center and began job hunting. I was getting a bit nervous as I knew my job would be coming to a close and unemployment did not pay my bills.

I tucked Ruger in bed with me and dozed off into a very deep exhausted sleep. I was in a lot of pain from the wiring in my mouth and was anxious for my appointment tomorrow to see if the wires could be removed.

"Ma, can you hear me?"

"I can hear you, where are you?" I could see Anthony floating in a white cloudy midst.

"Ma, apply at Wal-Mart for operations management."

"I have not managed retail for years."

"Just do it, you will love Jamey." And off he faded. I woke up wondering again if it was real or another dream, or again if I was just flat going crazy.

I met with my team soon after. Gathered up the government issued equipment and sent everything back or destroyed it as I had been advised.

## Chapter Eight

I went to the surgical office for follow up on the wires that were holding my jaw in place. I was advised that I was in such an immense amount of pain is because the wiring on the left side of my cheek had embedded into my cheek. It was immediate relief when he removed the wires.

I called Jeff that evening since I was a bit down. Jeff made me laugh and as I was searching for jobs and talking to him, sure enough there was an operations management position open at the Havre Wal-Mart. I told Jeff that I needed to go. I went straight to the Wal-Mart store and completed an application. I interviewed briefly with a manager that was quite humorous. Two days later I was in travel status and received a call from Jamey, the manager, who wanted to schedule an interview. I advised I was in travel status. We spoke over the phone and he asked me, "If your background check comes back clean, can you start training in less than two weeks?"

"Sure, I would love to!

We discussed wages and that was it. I knew my background check would come back clean and had recently completed one for an airline.

I began to talk out loud to myself when I was alone in my car. "Anthony, how could you know that? Thank you because I would have never even applied. I love you son and miss you so much." I did not hear him respond but felt a gentle squeeze on my hand.

My lovely friend Stephanie had made arrangements for Anthony's Celebration of Life that year. We tried to do something fun for his birthday each year. This year Anthony would have turned 28. Stephanie made arrangements, paid and booked us a trip to Las Vegas. Jeff had agreed to join us there. Stephanie and I got to Vegas checked into our room and waited in a lounge for Jeff to arrive. I watched as he swaggered in with Bright Red ray bans on. I jumped up and hugged him for a long time.

"So glad you could make it over!"

"It is not too bad of a drive from LA." He replied grabbing my face with both hands and giving me a passionate kiss. "I have missed you!"

"Missed you too, this is one of my best friends Stephanie."

"Well, Helllloooo Stephanie!" Jeff said giving her a hug. "Ladies, lets go play!"

The weekend was fast and furious. We stayed up late the first night and went dancing. Got up early and met up with a few other friends that had joined us and our day got off to a running start. I shared stories about Anthony all day sobbing on Jeff's shoulder off and on. If I started to cry he would either do something eccentric or say something off the wall to make me laugh.

I wanted to go sky diving. After all the drinking we had been doing that day, Jeff knew that was not going to happen. He took Stephanie and I to the New York, New York roller coaster instead. I really don't like roller coasters and of course he made sure Stephanie and I had seats at the very front. I was screaming before we ever took off. The attendant at one point asked me if I wanted to get off before they started it,

"No, I just feel like screaming!'

Fortunately we made it back safely to our room, which I have little recollection of.

I opened one eye slightly and sat up in bed the next morning.

"Ah, Stephanie?"

"Mmmm, I am sleeping."

"Stephanie, you need to wake up. We are in someone else's room."

"What the hell?"

She sat up and we observed the room together. We were both more than a little bit hung over and it took a moment to focus. The room was a nightmare! There were clothes all over the place. I started recognizing they were our clothes.

"What the hell? How come our clothes are all over the place?"

The phone rang.

"Hey, are you up? Come down to my room." Jeff states.

"Jeff, where you in our room last night?"

"No you girls wore me out. You two insisted on playing Cash cab and were not ready for bed. You were with Stephanie's guy friend and I told him he was responsible to get you two back to your room safely. Why? What is going on?"

"Nothing. All is well. I will be down soon." I looked at Stephanie bewildered. "Call Lucas Bias. I want to know what the happened in here. Or maybe I don't!" I shrieked.

Stephanie called Lucas Bias and finds out that we simply tried on each other's clothes and shoes in front of him half the night and then insisted on running around trying to find Criss Angel.

"Great, I can't face Lucas Bias again. How embarrassing! Glad we had a babysitter though!"

"You have to face him again. We are all hanging out today and he is taking us to the airport tomorrow."

"I will call a cab." I said totally embarrassed.

We spent time at the pool with Jeff. Jeff was a good listener and loved hearing my stories about the boys and my father. He always had something inspirational to say if I started to cry about Anthony. I knew it was going to take me a long time to heal over his loss and my fathers. He invited me to go back to Los Angeles with him. I declined and Stephanie and I returned to Butte. Another one of Anthony's birthdays had come and gone. Would I ever be able to make it through one of his birthdays without breaking down?

Back home I packed up for training in Helena for six weeks for my new position with Wal-Mart.

My self esteem returned and I blossomed during that training period. I loved the trainer and she had a way of boosting my self esteem. I did it! I was back into a position that I could easily support myself and saw a future and a career ahead of me. It was fun learning new things. Anthony was right, I loved working with Jamey, Tim, Bryant and Cindy. Tim and Bryant had a way of getting me going first thing in the morning. They had quite a few jokes and pranks up their sleeves. It took me a few weeks to get even, but I caught on fast to the mischief. The position had long hours but I loved it!

It was getting close to court prosecution time. Richard had emailed me begging for forgiveness and advised me that I had attacked him. I honestly could not recall everything that happened other than remembering wanting to leave and waking up across the room in a pool of blood. I think I chose to block everything out. Five months had passed and I really wanted it behind me. My life was now on fast forward with work being very busy, I had little time to think about that horrific night and six weeks of immense pain while my eyes, jaw, and emotions healed.

I went to court. I was not allowed in the courtroom for most of the hearing. I did not have my document in front of me, and had not read the original police report for months. When I walked in the court room and felt his deep eyes penetrating mine, I could not think. I was scared and I was not prepared for this, I tried to avoid looking at him and the jury. I did not want to be in the public eye, I did not want to be a victim. His attorney started yelling and the thoughts going through my head were not what the attorney was saying. He kept yelling and my mind went blank. I fell into a black abyss. The judge at the time knew I was still very afraid of him and dismissed me from the courtroom.

I was advised by one of the Sheriff's in the court room that Richard laughed during his testimony. He stated that I had tried to hit him and he was first going to punch me in the stomach, but knew I had diverticulitis and that it could kill me. So he chose to hit me in the face instead. I was also advised that during the trial it was addressed that a woman he previously dated in Boise had also filed charges against him because he beat her with a tire chain. There was also another incident in which he fled Canada and had illegal firearms.

The judge sentenced him to five years probation as a felony offender. The judge also advised him that a 240 lb 6'2" guy could have killed a 120 lb lady with his actions. He advised him that he had to get a job working for someone other than his mother and become a productive member of society.

It was approximately six months later and several counseling sessions that I began to remember that night. He broke my jaw by sitting on my chest and beating me in the face with his elbows.

The flood of memories of the beating exhausted me. I cried myself to sleep and was so thankful that I had been able to walk away. The surgeon had also explained to me how severe the injury was and how lucky we were that it was an injury we could fix and it would be painful and take time.

"Ma, call the boys."

"What boys? I cannot tell your brother and worry him with this."

"Call Shaun, he will clean his clock!"

In my dream I began laughing. Shaun was a man I truly loved and he had threatened to clean someone's clock one night.

"I can't involve others in my stupidity, Anthony. I will be okay."

"Call Monte then, we will never have to worry about Richard hurting anyone woman again." I could see Anthony's shit eating grin that we had all grown to love. "Love ya, Ma and am proud of you!"

"Wait, where are you?" I did not get an answer but woke up right at 3:00 a.m. I swear I could smell his cologne in my room. I got up and put on the one shirt of his that I had and cried myself back to sleep. My pillow was still wet when I woke up. I missed him so much.

Lesson learned; do not choose a partner with severe PTSD when you have lost your own identity. Abusive people see it a mile away.

In March of 2010, I was loving my job and had put Richard and the pain and his abuse behind me. It was easy to do because the pain of losing my son was so much greater. I met a very nice, handsome gentleman named Marshall. I was also still in contact with Jeff who was in California until May or June. I had reconnected with a high school friend who had recently lost his wife, Darby and I reconnected with an ex whom I still loved dearly, Shaun. It was nice to have the guys support. Have the men's honest opinions. My friendship with Lauretta and Louise had become very close. We confided in one another and kept busy with healthy activities. We were all trying to heal in one way or another.

Marshall took me on a very romantic dinner date in April. It was our first date. He was funny, sweet, charming and I was extremely attracted to him. In early May, Lauretta showed up at my job completely distraught. When I asked her what was wrong, she stated, "Crystal is dead." My heart sunk. Crystal was her daughter. At twenty-four years of age she had been killed right before Mothers Day.

Lauretta asked me to be with the family at the service and to come early to help her. This is when I knew Marshall was one of the kindest men I would ever meet. We had only been on one date and he insisted on taking me to the funeral. I found that hard to believe that he would want to take me and be there for my support not knowing the family.

The day of Crystal's service, Marshall picked me up from work. I walked into the funeral home and went blank. I tried to introduce Marshall to Jim, Crystal's father, forgot Jim's name, and introduced Marshall as Wes. I did not even know a Wes. As I walked to the casket, that scream came back, the scream that is so loud I can't hear anything else. The scream that tortures my soul and my heart. Marshall had the where-with-all to lead me to an area where I could sit down. I had to be there for Lauretta no matter what and went the familiar motions of holding her hand, helping with flowers, letting her cry on my shoulder. During the service, I began the shaking like I had at Anthony's service. My legs wouldn't stop shaking. I don't remember anything said at the service, I could not hear it anyway due to the agonizing scream in my head.

Over the next few months, I was surprised at the number of people that came to me to tell me about the loss of their child. One of the associates' son had been in a car wreck one year prior. She had tormented memories, stating the police called her and she had to identify her child in the car that he had crashed in. Another family lost their son to an accident in Iraq. A woman I did not know found me in the store and immediately began telling me about recently losing her daughter to domestic violence. Another person had lost her son , an only child in Iraq. I began to realize that many of us suffer daily in the pain of our losses her on earth. I started attending church more regularly. I was looking for my purpose in life. I was back on my feet but still very lost and broken. I thought of starting a grief therapy group locally.

That thought was short lived. At the end of May, Marshall's mother, came to Chinook so she could spend some of her last days in her home. That summer I found pleasure and genuine laughter again! His Mother was a true treasure. She was a blessing to me and I will never forget the time I was able to share with her. The heartfelt stories she shared with me and her faith. We would talk long hours about Anthony and her late husband. She was mischievous and fun. I cherished my time with her. We took her to Glacier Park and out boating.

John Mataga had also joined me that summer. He was content at my house and again, watched Ruger while I worked long hours, cooked and cleaned. I loved having John as a guest. He could have lived out his final days with me. I would have been honored.

John spent a lot of time talking with Louise and helped Louise through some addiction issues.

When John left that summer, I had a feeling something was wrong with him. I asked a lot of questions but he simply stated that he was fine. He did tell me he had a small tumor on his heart about the size of a peach pit but nothing to worry about.

Marshall and I grew very close that summer and fell in love. We played and laughed 24/7. The jokes were non-stop. The house had been sold so it was time for his mother to go back to Texas to her sister's house, and time for Marshall and I to finish cleaning out her numerous storage sheds and determine what we wanted to do.

We spent weeks and hours and hours on end cleaning out her storage sheds. My days off from work were spent cleaning out the storage shed. I teased Marshall that at least at Wal-Mart, I was getting paid. We took numerous loads to the dump, thrift stores and the library, giving away lots of items. It was overwhelming and there were many times that at the end of the day, I would sit in the middle of the floor and cry. "What the hell do you want me to do with all this stuff?"

Marshall bought a truck one day and flew out the next morning to take his mother back to Texas. I drove the truck to work and worked a thirteen hour shift. That meant I was driving back to Chinook at dusk. I was stopped by a highway patrol officer who advised me to turn on my lights. I advised him we just bought the truck and the lights did not work.

I left Marshall a note stating, "You better get a hold of whomever you bought the truck from because the lights on the truck do not work."

Marshall called me early the next morning at work. "Honey, why don't the truck lights work?"

"I don't know but they don't and I am busy."

Marshall pried a little further, "Well what were you using to turn them on."

"The button...the nobby thing."

"On what side?"

"The left side! I turned it and nothing would happen!"

"Did you try pulling it out?"

I felt like an idiot. "No, must have been a Lucy moment. Gotta go! And why the hell aren't they just automatic!"

I think Marshall still has that note.

Marshall and I were happy. Our laughter never stopped. We finally closed on the house and he had made business plans for us in Lakeside. We had developed a business plan that we wanted to pursue. I left Wal-Mart, reluctantly. My instincts were telling me not to leave, but I was in love with Marshall and ready to settle down in my life. I was happy and he adored me. He cherished me and the love in his eyes was deep and sincere. I did not question his love for me or his happiness. His friends reassured me that they had never seen him so happy his entire life. We truly became best friends and I dropped my contact with Jeff and plans to visit him in Los Angeles. Darby and I continued to stay in touch via email.

Marshall and I drove from Chinook to Lakeside several times looking for a rental to at least get moved and settled so we could pursue our business venture. I shared many stories with him about the boys on those trips.

I was managing a large retail Hallmark store in 1995. I had to fly to Seattle for business. I was at the airport in the boarding area on the way home and was trying to reach the boys. My mother was supposed to be watching them. There was a group of business men sitting in the boarding area and several of them listened to the messages that I was leaving. I was getting no response, so during the flight the business men began a conversation with me. I simply advised that my boys were always up to something and I wanted to check on them, explaining that my mother was supposed to be with them. They chided me with remarks such as "Don't tell mom the baby sitter is dead!" I advised them that I did not find that funny, that they did not know my boys.

We reached the Boise airport. I continued to try to reach the boys and/or my mother. There was a bad snow storm and I was not sure we would be able to depart Boise for Twin Falls. I continued trying until we were finally allowed to board. I had to drive from Twin Falls to Burley at approximately thirty miles an hour due to the wind and snow. I was tired. I had worked all day in Seattle and then flights were delayed. I pulled in the driveway around 2:00 a.m. just as something flew over the top of the car.

"What the Hell!" I jumped out of the car just as Anthony came flying off the roof on his snowboard. My mother had been called into work and the boys built a jump on the roof of a room on the house. They were using the picnic table to get up there. Luckily they did not get hurt but I put an end to the snowboarding off the roof immediately.

Then I had gone back to work for the Travel Agency and got a call from Anthony one day to get home fast! I pulled into the driveway to find Jasper, my nephew, sitting with his hand out and wrapped up.

"Let me see it!" I demanded

"No, we called Uncle Richard. Richard is on his way."

"Let me see it."

"No, Ma you will faint again." Anthony says adamantly.

"If we need to go to ER get in the car NOW!"

"Yep, we probably should."

I raced to ER with the boys and low and behold Jasper had a crossbow that had gone right through the middle of his hand.

The staff X-Rays it and then begin to question me.

"Where did he get the crossbow?"

"I do not know. He is my nephew. Perhaps his father gave it to him?"

They continued on with numerous questions and I felt like an idiot because I did not know he even had a crossbow.

Fortunately it missed all bones and veins and they were able to remove it safely. "Boys!" That is all I could say at that time. Never ever a dull moment.

Marshall would share in the laughter and fun of the memories and on occasion, he would say, "Quiet is nice." That is when I knew he had tired of my non-stop memories and I would curl up and sleep the rest of the trip.

Christmas of 2010 Marshall and I joined my family in Idaho. Marshall gave me a pair of beautiful boots. He knew that I loved shoes.

"Try them on." Marshall stated.

"Nah, I will later."

"Try them on." he insisted.

I began throwing the tissue inside the boots across the floor.

"Ah, don't be so quick to be throwing that. There is something in that tissue."

Indeed there was! He gave me a beautiful heart shaped diamond engagement ring and proposed in front of my entire family. I said yes. On the drive home, I told him that he had a lot of balls to propose in front of my entire family.

## Chapter Nine

We got moved safely, however, due to personal family matters which are not mine to share. Marshall and his sister were in dispute and she would not repay monies owed to him. Our business plans came to a quick halt. I went to work at the Domestic Free Violence center, managed our volunteers and advocated for the abused at court hearings. Marshall spent a lot of time researching his options and dealing with attorneys. I began to sleep in the other room and would watch TV until I fell asleep. My depression was coming back fast and furious.

I was working with one woman who had been severely beaten and raped numerous times by a number of men. Because she was intoxicated and on drugs it was high risk to take her to the shelter. My boss at the time, an amazing woman, Janet, advised for us to pay for her a room at a local hotel.

The police department encouraged us to try to get her to give a statement so they could prosecute.

I would take her food to the hotel room.

"How are you feeling today?"

"I am okay." She would shake the entire time I spoke with her.

"Do you want to go to the shelter where you will be safe for awhile?" I asked her.

"Yes, but can I drink alcohol there?"

"No, you can't have alcohol or any illegal drugs there. I looked around her hotel room and there were numerous cans of beer. "If you can sober up. I can take you to the shelter."

"I can't. I don't want to quit drinking."

"What if we send you to rehab? We have funding to help you and Janet is more than willing to approve for you to go to rehab. Can you do that?"

"No, I want to stay here."

I would spend numerous hours with her and another advocate, Crystal, spent numerous hours with her. We tried to get her to complete a statement for the local police.

She would not do it. In frustration one day I asked her, "Why won't you help us prosecute the men who held you down and raped you repeatedly for hours? Beat the crap out of you and dumped you in the gutter for dead. They broke your ribs, fractured various bones. You are lucky to be alive! I don't understand why you won't talk to the police and let them help you."

She quietly replied, "He is the only one that gave me a birthday present."

"What did he give you?"

"A bottle of vodka. Maybe after my son's wedding in a few months, maybe then I will consider rehab."

"I wish you well and please know we love and care about you." I gave her a blanket from the shelter, some personal items and left.

She was found dead a few weeks later next to a storage shed. She never made it to her son's wedding.

Marshall moved us out close to Flathead Lake in June of 2011 in hopes of helping my depression. I was able to simply walk down the hill and be right on the lake. We had a private shared dock. The home had spacious high ceilings, and huge windows facing the lake. The master bedroom was large with a sitting area in it. The bathroom had a garden tub. The house had four bedrooms, two full baths, and a deck overlooking the lake. Yes it immediately helped my depression. It was new and clean.

I got the opportunity to go back to work in the travel industry on a high end account. Marshall sat my office up in a beautiful room overlooking the lake. He gave me his father's handmade desk. My office had an incredible view. I was back into a profession that I knew and loved. My depression lifted and all was going well again. I sorted through pictures of Anthony and shared loving fun light hearted stories that made me laugh with Marshall.

I loved sharing the story of how the boys were always doing something to one another when we would be at restaurants, usually embarrassing my mother. I always laughed with them. We were at a restaurant one night and Anthony was eating a shrimp cocktail. Colby excused himself to go to the restroom and came back to the table immediately picking up his glass of milk. Colby drinks his milk down and his eyes widen and about pop out of his head. Anthony had put shrimp in his milk. Colby quickly got even a few nights later by putting black olives in Anthony's root beer.

Another time, I had a girlfriend, LeAnn visiting from Australia. Anthony, Colby, LeAnn and I joined my mother and brother at a busy restaurant for dinner. LeAnn saw a two door cop car and freaked out. "A two door cop car?! Two doors! How do they get the prisoners in and out?" With her Australian accent it made us all laugh. We were laughing aloud when suddenly Colby burst out! "Anthony, you make me so mad, I could just poke my eye out!" He took a fork and plunged it into his cupped hand held by his eye that was holding a small coffee creamer. White cream flew and my mother gasped in fear. I nearly fell off my chair laughing. I knew what he had done and it was only creamer. My mother was furious!

"How can you laugh at this?"

I could tell she was trying not to laugh but was so embarrassed, as we now had the entire restaurant staring at us and an eerie silence other than my laughter with my boys.

Marshall encouraged me to write that book that Anthony always said I needed to write.

"I started one in 2009, after my Susan said she would help me edit it. It is too painful Marshall. And although, I would rather walk thru the pain versus losing the memories, it makes me physically hurt. My heart hurts!"

Marshall always being sweet, simply stated, "I am here for you and will help you anyway that I can."

I loved my job, the company I worked for and was happy to be working with Sugar. She was always positive. I had a great management team all together and I had worked for them for years. They continued to acquire travel agencies that I worked for so I made a joke one day that this time I will just stay with them. If I work for someone else, they will acquire them anyway.

I had the day off on late February, 2012. I woke up early and wanted to go do something. I asked Marshall what he wanted to do that day.

"It is only 9:00 a.m. I don't want to go anywhere till this afternoon." He went back to watching golf. Frustrated, I left alone. I spent the day in Polson speaking with locals and went to the candy store. It was a beautiful day but clouds were rolling in and it was close to dark. I was driving north on the highway and had turned a corner when I saw a car coming towards me totally out of control. It was snowing, the roads were icy and I had nowhere to go. There was a ravine on both sides of me. There was nowhere to get out of way of this oncoming vehicle. My thoughts had not finished and I felt the slam of her vehicle into the side of the truck. I felt the truck spinning in circles, saw cars flying by me trying to avoid hitting me and then felt the bed of the truck lift. I knew I was headed over that ravine and I thought this is it. I am going to die and I yelled out, "Oh God!"

I was knocked out. The next thing I knew I was stopped, truck facing north, slammed up against the guardrail. The first immediate thought that came to my mind was "My son had time to know he was going to die."

A young man came to the passenger window to see if I was okay. I tried to open the driver's door. There was no way. I realized I would have to get out of the passenger side. I put my hands down in the seat to try to lift myself over the stick shift and felt all these round balls. My first thought was that I had pooped my pants. Then I realized they were Malt balls that I had purchased earlier at the candy store. I started to laugh hysterically. The ambulance arrived and the young man took my cell phone and called Marshall for me. I climbed out the window of the passenger side with the help of an EMT. She asked me if I was okay.

"I am okay but I need water. I am really really thirsty."

"You are in shock. Can you get in the ambulance with me?"

"No, I am okay. I am just really hungry and thirsty. Can you get my candy out of the truck and water?"

"Let's go to the ambulance and get water." The EMT encouraged.

"OK." I walked to the ambulance with her and let them check vitals.

"Your blood pressure is high, you have several head contusions, lots of bruising and your knee is swollen."

"I am fine."

I saw Marshall running up to the ambulance. The highway had been blocked so a kind highway patrol officer escorted him to me. Marshall was white and quickly climbed into the ambulance with us. I had never seen him that way and in my head thought that my eyes had to be out of focus.

"I think we should take her to ER." The EMT advised.

"I am okay." I insisted. I am tough is what went through my head. "Hey, I have been through worse."

Reluctantly the EMT had me sign a release that I refused transport against recommendation.

Marshall walked me to his car. We no sooner got into his car that I felt an excruciating pain in my neck, shoulders and my head. I felt like passing out.

"Ah, honey...... I don't feel so good. I think you better get me to the ER." The ambulance had left already so he quickly headed into town as safe as possible on icy roads.

"Marshall, I am starving. Please get me something to eat."

"Honey, are you sure? We should head straight to ER? You are in shock."

"No I need to eat." I began giggling.

Marshall quickly drove through a fast food chain. He ordered what I advised I wanted, which I did not know what I wanted.

I ate a hamburger on the way to ER. Once admitted, the ER doctor did several tests and ran several X-rays. He came into the room and I began laughing again. "I am sorry I am laughing. I hurt and this really isn't funny."

"You are in shock still. The X-rays do not show any broken bones. You have numerous bruises and your knee is swollen but the bursa sac did not burst. You are lucky. You will be in pain for a few days. You got thrown around pretty good."

"My seat belt was on." I laughed again.

"She is in shock. Will you be driving?" The doctor asked Marshall.

I heard Marshall and the doctor talking and eventually they allowed Marshall to drive me home.

Reluctantly, I called in sick to work the next day and advised my immediate supervisor that I had been in a wreck and would be out a few days. She inquired if I thought more than three days and I told her, No. I had been through worse. This was nothing.

I rested with Marshall at my side, doting on me for three days and returned to work. I began to get horrific headaches, migraines and started having night terrors again. Marshall pushed and insisted that I get into the Doctor and get therapy. Finally one morning I woke and was not able to move my neck. I was in intense pain. I agreed, drove to my doctor's office and got a prescription for physical therapy.

I first went to one physical therapist and it was not at all what I anticipated.

"Roll your head to the right ten times, to the left ten times. Lift your chin up and down ten times. Then the therapist would move on to one of the next eight or nine people in the same room.

I called my son that night and explained to Colby what happened in physical therapy. Colby asked me, "So you are going to group physical therapy?"

"Yeah, Colby, it was pretty messed up. I don't need an insurance company paying for that. I can do that at home."

"Mom, that is messed up. Get another therapist."

I found am adept therapist named, Tracey. She came with high recommendations. She did a procedure called dry needling. It hurt really badly but I endured the four to six minutes of pain because afterward, it was immediate relief. I could see the muscles between my neck and shoulders deflate after her therapy.

Although the physical therapy helped, I was a wreck emotionally, mentally and spiritually.

During my accident I had gotten it into my head that at the time of my son's accident he had known he was going to die when he did. What a last minute torture on earth? I thought of another family member who had time to known he was going to die before he did. I began to obsess on the pain and fear that they must have felt. I had horrific nightmares. I was consumed by irrational fears. I would dream that my animals would be hurt by other animals. I was unraveling.

Memorial weekend was fast approaching and with it an increase of fear and nightmares. I would wake up in sheer terror with blood curdling screams. I was afraid of losing someone or something I loved. I would agonize from 3:00 a.m. until 6:00 a.m. praying for peace and sleep. Around six I would get up frustrated because I could not sleep. I was back to only sleeping three hours. You know you need sleep and have responsibilities but your head won't shut down. The thoughts are irrational and ridiculous.

I was going to a new therapist, that did muscle separation therapy, two to three times a week. I continued to stress to Marshall that I needed to have plans for Memorial Weekend or I would go crazy. Friday night I began crying and Marshall tried to console me. I pushed him away and continued to cry.

"It's been over five years, get over it." He mumbled as he headed to bed

Get over it!? I will never get over it and every year I had PTSD worse than the year before.

He left for work Saturday morning. I asked if we could make plans for rest of weekend and he did not answer.

I flew into a rage. I took cash out of the safe, grabbed my dogs and left. I got a beautiful room on the lake in Polson. I was okay for the first part of the afternoon. About 3:00 p.m. the memory of being told, "He did not make it." Haunted me and again the scream came back. I had to get away from people. I just wanted to cry. I went to my room, cuddled with the dogs and cried for two straight days.

I went home on Monday, Memorial Day. Marshall was furious and he was packing to move out. I did not want him to leave and I had huge abandonment issues after losing Anthony.

"Leave me! I don't care anymore."

"We are not a couple anymore." Marshall said quietly.

"We've been nothing but roommates for the last year. Move, I would be happier."

It was not fine. I did not want him to leave. But another part of me did. I was lonelier in my relationship with him than I was being alone. I hated the world. He moved out until he got laid off in October and then moved back in with me. He was trying very hard to help me but you can't just take a wrench and fix someone's crazy mind.

I went back to Dr. Lexi. She listened for well over an hour and suggested Risperadel. I took it the first night and literally felt brain waves waking up or moving. I seriously believe part of my brain did not work anymore. I woke up ravenous and craving food. I was amazed that I could feel the brain waves moving but was scared of it. I would not take it. I went back to Dr. Lexi and told her that I was losing my mind and was going crazy. I would never be okay again. I was too broken to fix. I explained to her that I have the same nightmare over and over of walking into the hospital room and seeing my son dead. I explained to her how I would wake up screaming and then how the scream would stay in my head.

I explained to her how nothing was fun anymore and I was always crying because anything I did that Anthony and I used to do made me cry. I felt guilty that I could still go rock climbing, boating, and fishing. I could not make his favorite dishes without stressing out and crying, upsetting myself so that I could not even eat. Dr. Lexi explained that everything I was going through was normal for someone with PTSD. I obsessed on the fact that I knew my son knew he was going to die. I obsessed with wanting control of my own last breath and not someone else.

I was seriously going mad. I was out of touch with reality, had lost hope, surrounded myself in dark thoughts and was fighting like hell to see the light.

I told my sister Donna I had no fight left in me. "I am tortured, Sis, with what I could have done, should have done.....I can't come out of it. I am too broke to fix."

My sister replied, "Please don't give up Sis. You can do this. You are strong, remember when you had surgery and made it like 20 minutes through the surgery without anesthesia"

"Yes and I would have made it all the way through surgery, had the hypnotist not started talking about himself to the surgeon. I lost concentration. But, I did hear everything, including the fact that they had lost a needle and could not suture me back up until they found it."

The surgeon was amazed that I made it that long and that after they did put me out that I heard everything.

"The mind is amazing doc!"

Now my mind was failing me. It was not strong anymore it was weak and I had no strength left to fight the demons that entered it around in the middle of the night and staying until the morning. Often it lasted through the day. Since the accident I had began drinking more because I was in pain. I also used it to get myself to sleep. I would drink, go to sleep, go to therapy, go to work, drink, and sleep, therapy and go to work. That was my pattern. My drinking was increasing and I was making my drinks stronger and stronger.

I had noted that close to my monthly cycle that the episodes or irrationality increased. My Dr. advised that I take a leave of absence intermittently during this time. I did as suggested and she was right. The irrational thoughts were uncontrollable. I was still waking up depressed but I fought to get through my work shifts. I loved helping the associates and my team. That is what gave me some happiness at the time.

In December of 2012, I told Marshall. "Lets get through the fun of the Holidays and quit drinking. The alcohol is hurting me and I do not want to drink anymore. It is only adding to my depression and I am drinking every night again. I am not living the life I want to live at all. I am destructive to myself and others. I am becoming someone I don't even know anymore."

"Okay, I agree with you. We will quit drinking." Marshall said with great support.

On Christmas, Marshall gave me the band to my engagement ring and wanted to set a date. We felt like a couple again. We had fallen in love all over again.

Well, Christmas and New Years came and went. I tried hard to quit drinking and he tried hard to support me but we had an uncanny way of talking one another into drinking. I will never blame or guilt him. Marshall had been depressed over family issues and his mother's recent death. He had his issues and I had mine. We all deal with things in our own space and time. I just knew I wanted alcohol out of my life.

I woke up January 22, 2013 with a foggy head. I did not feel right. Even as I spoke to Marshall my words seemed to be echoing in my head. I felt as if my brain was someplace else, yet my body was standing in the living room. Marshall's first instincts were to advise me not to go but he decided that I probably needed out of the house and get fresh air. I began driving the windy road up to the highway and was only about three-fourths of a mile up the road when I heard Anthony loud and clear "COPS!" I thought how bizarre and went to town.

I did some grocery shopping and met up with a few friends for a drink. They ordered a shot of fireball whiskey which I had never drank before. I drank it on an empty stomach. We had a few more drinks. I felt fine ordering a pizza and left to drive home. I swerved less than a mile from the house to avoid a deer and hit a tree. Imagine that! I woke up in ER with the nicest Highway Patrol officer ever. The nicest nurse and doctor. I loved everyone but myself. I wished I had woken up in the morgue.

I was issued a DUI, refused the breath test and Marshall had to come after me. I felt horrible. What a stupid dumb mistake. Nobody could beat me up more than I beat myself up. I was so thankful that I had not hurt anyone. But so mad at myself and was more determined than ever to get help and quit drinking.

I was hurt pretty bad with lots of facial bruising and swelling. I could no longer feel the left side of my face in the jaw area where it had been previously broken. After resting for a few days and Marshall doting on me again, I asked him.

"So when is it coming. When are you going to get angry with me for doing something so stupid?"

"It was stupid. The truck can be replaced. I love you and am glad you are going to be okay. We will get through this, together."

I swore off alcohol. Hired an attorney and did what I needed to do. I went to classes ahead of time that would have been court ordered, anyway. I had every intention of pleading guilty. I was guilty and needed to be responsible for my errors.

I attended the alcohol class in March prior to going to court. I was honest on all my paperwork because I knew I needed help and I wanted help. I could have easily answered all the questions vaguely and dishonestly and convinced my counselor that I only drink a few times year and had no drinking history. I could have state that alcoholism did not run in my family. I did not lie at all and was blatantly honest. I was ready to stop drinking.

I completed my alcohol class and had my evaluation. The counselor was awesome and stated she would love to help me because she could tell I really wanted to help. I explained to her that in the last two years, there were only a total of about six weeks that I did not drink. I normally had a few vodkas with club soda after work. I did advise her that towards the end of the year that I was making my drinks stronger and that a few had turned into three or four before bed.

We talked for a long period of time and I left her office with high hopes that I found someone who I could relate to it would be able to help me. I scheduled counseling with her to begin the latter part of April.

I told my son during his visit at Easter that I had quit drinking. I explained to Marshall what my counselor had told me about mixing antidepressants with alcohol and the dangers. We both agreed to quit again. I had to face the cold hard reality that I was an alcoholic and in all honesty probably had been for a while. After my first counseling session, I agreed to join an alcohol support group. It was a roller coaster of attending alcohol group classes and abstaining for a period of time and then finding myself drinking again. Back to support group, again abstaining for a period of time and back to drinking. It was maddening. How could alcohol have so much control over my minds?

Mother's Day weekend came around and on the following Saturday there was a Spartan race that I wanted to go to in Bigfork. It was rare that I had Saturday's off and had asked Marshall to go volunteer at the races with me a week before. He agreed. The Friday night prior to the races, Marshall came home and said, "Sure would be nice if you would hike the horse with us tomorrow."

"What do you mean hike the horse? We had plans to go to Big Fork."

"Well, B wants to hike the horse." He said adamantly.

I said a few choice words and went back to work. I stewed about it all night. I did not go to sleep. He knew that I rarely got a Saturday off and that I had really been looking forward to the Spartan races.

When he got up that morning, I began crying and advised him that I thought it was sad that he could not spend a day with me. I also explained that we had had plans a week ago. I threw a big uproar about us never doing anything, never getting involved in community events and that I felt we were roommates again.

Upset and knowing that he was still going with B hiking, I offered an alternative through tears.

"Why don't you go this morning? I need to sleep anyway because I did not get any sleep last night. What time do you think you will be home?"

"We should be home no later than two." He replied.

"Ok, go have fun. We can catch the end of the races if you will be home by then." He dressed, packed up his back pack and left.

Exhausted I fell asleep on the couch. I woke up and it was around 4:30 in the afternoon. I knew the races would not be going much longer and was hurt that Marshall did not keep his commitment. I gathered up the two dogs and decided to go take them on a hike along the River in Bigfork. Marshall later called and asked if I wanted some company. I broke down in tears and told him that I wanted the relationship over. This was not the first time he had made other plans. We no longer did anything together anyway. I explained to him that living with him was lonelier than living alone and asked him to move out.

I spent Mothers day weekend alone.

We still talked daily and we still cared very much for one another. He agreed to come to the lakeside house and watch the two dogs while I went to Butte Memorial weekend to spend with my family.

Another dreaded Memorial weekend was coming up. I made sure that this year I had plans to be with my son and my mother. We had a great weekend with lots of laughter, memories and tears. We had one of the most beautiful weekends that I had had in the last two and a half years. On the drive home I had a lot of time to think and decided I no longer wanted to run away from the pain. I missed my family and my friends. I am used to, no matter where I live, having a large social network of friends. I did not have the large social network that I was used to in Lakeside.

I drove myself back to Lakeside and as I turned off of 93, and began the long windy road to my house my breakdown started. The minute I walked in the door the loneliness overwhelmed me. Living in this beautiful remote location and working from home I rarely left my house. Marshall and I got into disputes over him not spending time with me outside of the house participating in local and community events and fundraisers I was always anxious to attend the event and he always found something else he wanted to do. I thanked him for watching the dogs. He began packing more of his items and I lost it again. I explained to Marshall that all he was doing right now was triggering my abandonment issues and asked him to get his belongings later. I asked if he wanted to spend the evening together. He stated he had too many things to do and was going home. I did something I had never done. I picked up his cell phone sitting in the living room and noticed he had received a text from a woman asking him to join her to play cards. His response was, "I'm on my way."

I really couldn't blame him since we had broken up earlier in the month, but it still hurt. I was also angry that it was rare to get him to do anything with me. With an uncontrollable emotional roller coaster starting, I did what I knew how to do to kill the pain and went to Lakeside and bought a bottle of vodka. I drink that evening and cried myself to sleep. The next morning I woke up and tried to use my cell phone which was no longer working. I called Marshall briefly from my work phone to ask him if he had shut off my phone. He replied, "Yes."

Stressed out, I took one of my prescription drugs for anxiety. I was ticked about the phone. I had no other phone other than the work phone which is recorded. My girlfriend Cathy had been sending me messages via Face book asking me to come back to Butte for the weekend. I told her that I might make it.

## Chapter Ten

It was the seventh of June and I needed to go and purchase a phone. I put the two dogs into the truck and headed for Kalispell. As I was pulling out of the driveway I again heard very loud and clear the word, COPS! I did not heed warning simply because I had not been drinking. I came around a corner. The roads were wet and the dogs were jumping on me. I slid into a tree.

A woman came running down the hill quickly opening the door allowing both of my dogs to run in different directions one headed towards the highway and the other back towards the house. I pursued my dog which in all reality I am sure looked like I was trying to run from the scene of the accident. One of the EMT drivers' raced to get the other dog running for the highway. I was strapped to a gurney and into the ambulance. The EMT gentleman was kind very polite and offered to take my dog's home I explained that the house was unlocked and to go ahead and just put them in the house.

Arriving at the ER I was of course met by Highway Patrol. The Highway Patrol officer was sitting next to the scene in the sterile area swinging his legs and chewing gum. He was quite young. He stated that he could smell alcohol on my breath wanted to know how much alcohol I drink that morning. I advised him I had not drunk any alcohol that morning but I did the night before. He asked for a blood alcohol test and I declined. He advised me that he was going to take my license which he did reaching into my purse and taking it.

"I could take you to jail." He said quite cocky.

"Go ahead. My mother was a jailer. I'll just meet interesting people." I answered with an attitude.

"I will let you go home. I had your truck towed. It is not drivable. I am going to however, issue you a ticket for a DUI because you are refusing the BAC."

I did not have a cell phone and the only person that I really knew was Marshall other than a few girlfriends. I refused to let them call Marshall. to come and get me. I called a taxi to take me home.

Upon returning home I immediately fell into a dark dark abyss. I hated everything. I did not want to be alone out here in the woods, by myself with nobody to enjoy it with. I started drinking, taking Ativan and blacked out. Apparently in that blackout, I called my precious daughter-in-law and said mean things to her and lied to her. I called a counselor in Big Fork begging for help because now I was suicidal. She had no information on me and I did not give her enough information for her to do much.

I quit answering anyone on Facebook. I called my boss and he was very calm and helpful. I do not remember my conversation with him, but I had enough sense about me to advise him I needed a leave of absence and not intermittent. I drank and cried, drank and cried. If I ran out of alcohol I took the hoopty to Lakeside to get more.

I called the court Tuesday morning and advised that I was sick and asked to reschedule my plea for the next week. They agreed. I again had a plan of suicide. I was not starting over again. I was not going through another failed relationship and I would never beat this alcoholism. It was stronger than I was. I couldn't quit, I tried and I tried hard, it had become an obsession. I could not hear Anthony anymore and figured he was so disappointed in me, that he had left me too. I had not kept my commitment to Colby. I was not living the life I wanted to live and the alcohol had won.

I got back to the beautiful lakefront home and walked through the whole house looking at all the packing I would have to do, to move again. I gave up. I simply said to myself that I was done, between fighting depression, PTSD, alcoholism, another failed relationship and then hurting someone I truly loved, and being alone up here. I was not living anymore. I simply existed in a body form. I looked in the mirror and did not recognize myself. I did not know who I was anymore. I found the pain killers that had been given to me back in 2012 when the woman struck me, the first accident. I still had a full prescription. I took all of them and downed a lot of vodka. I barricaded the doors so that nobody could get in. I went to sleep. I woke to Ruger barking and got up in a daze to let him outside. As I moved all the chairs and misc that I had barricaded the doors with, I heard someone. I looked outside, saw a large white car and thought it was the cops. I figured I was in trouble for not going to court on Tuesday. I opened the door and there stood my girlfriend, Cathy, with a large bouquet of flowers. I could not believe it was her. I honestly thought I was dreaming. How could she really be here? She did not know where I lived.

She came in and I told her everything. She was scared. My pupils were huge and solid black. She saw no color in my eyes. She wanted to call an ambulance because she knew I was in really bad shape. She did not know if I had insurance or not and I was not making any sense. She asked me to lie down and rest. I was so tired that I did not hesitate. The next morning she stated that numerous times throughout the night I would sit up and scream and then go back to sleep. She checked on me periodically through the night. She encouraged me to drink water and make sure that I was starting to eat. By the time Cathy got to me I had been drinking non-stop for probably five days, most of it was a blackout. To this day, I truly believe had she not arrived when she did, I would have overdosed and died. She found the house hidden in the woods by talking to the locals.

Cathy, knows me very well, knew my PTSD was out of control and was upset Marshall left me alone at this time of year, knowing my abandonment issues. I told her that he did not know how to help me either and he had tried. He was a great guy but our relationship was simply over. I explained to her that I broke up with him in early May. I was too broke to ever fix and I was never going to be okay or be able to enjoy living again.

Cathy drove me to Wal-Mart the next day so we could deal with the cell phone. We also had to find out where my truck was and get it towed back to the house. I wanted alcohol and bought a six pack of beer. Cathy did not say a word. My hands were shaky and I am sure I was going through withdrawals. We got to the house. My head was a foggy mess from all the drugs and alcohol. I drank my six pack of beer and went back to bed.

The next morning, Cathy had basically made a list of things we needed to deal with. We found the number for where the truck was, called the guy to inquire on where to pick it up at. He said that I had no insurance on it. I advised him that I most definitely did.

It was now the June 16th and I had not spoken to Marshall at all. I figured it was a mistake. When I bought the truck a few months earlier, I got a quote online with Progressive and was going to simply put the insurance in my name. Marshall stated not to, that it was less expensive for him to put in his name. So now tow truck man is telling me I owe him 800.00 for towing and storage for a week.

"Great! This is more than the insurance policy would have been." I was ticked and taking all the will power I had at this point. I sent Marshall a text.

"Did you cancel the insurance on the truck?"

"I am sad to say that, yes, I did cancel the insurance when you threw the truck in my face. That's when I canceled the phone and the truck. I wanted to check on you but I had no way to contact you. Can I ask what happened and are you okay?"

I was hot and called him. "What the hell?! You do not ever cancel a major policy on anyone without advising them."

"I had no way to contact you."

"That is an unacceptable excuse Marshall and bull crap. Number one you could have called me prior to shutting off my phone and advising me that you were going to shut it off and cancel my insurance. Secondly you could have driven over here and left a note stating not to drive the truck that you had canceled my insurance. Thirdly, you could have easily called Ben or Amy, and they would have made sure that I knew you had canceled the insurance!" I hung up in anger and received another text from Marshall.

"I am sorry that I failed you. Please forgive me. Rest easy and know you are in my thoughts and my prayers."

Rest easy? I will take full responsibility for my actions. However, I was not drunk that morning and it was an accident. He had several ways to notify me that the insurance was canceled.

I called my friend Ray, a local Sheriff, and also my therapist that was doing muscle separation therapy. I explained to him what had happened. Ray had become my confidant. When Marshall made the remark, 'get over it' in regards to Anthony's death. I quit talking to him about Anthony. Ray listened and I had become very close to him. We had developed a great friendship and we did have an interest in one another. He advised me to talk to my attorney on Monday. He stated that the insurance company and Marshall both had a legal obligation to advise me that the insurance was canceled. "You do not ever cancel a major policy on someone no matter how mad you are at them. You tell them that you will give them a month, a week or even 24 hours but you give them a chance to get insurance before you cancel. What the hell was he thinking and had you hurt someone else? Let's just be thankful you did not."

I thanked Ray.

Monday morning I was on the phone with my attorney, Scott.

"Scott, I really messed up and I got issued a second DUI."

"You called me last week and left me a message. You sounded in really bad shape and I've already talked to the prosecutor. It is not as bad as you think. We have not gone to court yet on the first DUI and we can plead with two first offenses. Do you think that's what you would like to do? You sounded horrible, you sure you are okay?"

"Yes, let's just do that and get this put behind me. But, Scott, I was not drunk on the second DUI charge. I had been drinking the night before. I don't know my head is still really foggy I have to come into court tomorrow morning I'll come and see you after court and talk about it."

I was still a mess. My head was foggy. My girlfriend Cathy, set things in motion, had made a list and prioritized it.

I printed off my leave of absence paperwork and she drove me to my medical doctor. I advised Dr. Lexi of everything that was going on. Dr. Lexi referred me to counseling and advised that take 6 to 8 weeks off work. She discussed suicide with me. She wanted to be sure that I was not suicidal before she let me leave the office. I advised her that I was not suicidal at the moment and that I had a friend with me. She advised she would fax the paperwork to my employers and stressed for me to get into counseling.

I got in the car. "Do you have your medical report from the hospital for this accident?"

"No, but the hospital is right here. Let's grab it so that I have it with me when we go to Scott's office."

I picked up the medical report and Cathy and I both reviewed the documents. There was not much on the medical report other than an accident, the basics of a general checkup, and a boldly printed notation stating, not intoxicated. Cathy and I both sighed a sigh of relief and went to Scott's office.

I took the paperwork into Scott, he immediately called the prosecuting attorney, and advised that we would not be pleading to two first offenses on a DUI. He advised the prosecuting attorney that he had medical documentation stating that I was not intoxicated. The prosecuting attorney stated that he needed time to review the documents. At this time he was not willing to drop the charge.

I advised Scott to please get my first DUI charge to court immediately so that I could plead guilty and get moved back to Butte to be closer to my family and friends. I advised Scott that I wanted to start outpatient treatment immediately for alcoholism and grief counseling as well.

On Tuesday, Cathy, drove me to the court house to plead not guilty on the ticket for the second DUI charge. We went before the judge I pled not guilty and he stated he would schedule a date for hearing. He started to fill out a form and noted at the bottom that I was to get a Scram bracelet on immediately. Cathy advised the judge that I would be leaving town and relocating and asked if we needed to do it immediately if we could wait till we got to Butte.

This judge was a no-nonsense and informed Cathy that I better have the bracelet on by five p.m. Cathy contacted the office to see if we needed to schedule an appointment. She was advised that I would need a landline before we could put the bracelet on. I contacted the court house and advised the clerk that I was unable to put the Scram bracelet on that day but would do it early the next morning because I did not have a landline and had to have a landline. I got a landline installed that afternoon and first thing Wednesday morning we were at the office to have the Scram bracelet put on.

Jimmy, the gentleman who put my Scram bracelet on was also one of the EMTs that had arrived on scene on the second accident. He was very polite and very inspiring. He told me that he could have been in the same place that I am now a few years back. He advised me not to use any lotions, hairspray, body wash or anything else that contained alcohol. He advised me on how to download the system if it did not do an automatic download and that it would monitor me at approximately 3 o'clock in the morning and to make sure that I was home and within 20 feet of the device. He gave me his cell phone number and advises me to call him if I had any problems whatsoever.

Cathy and I walked across the street to the courthouse to be sure that the judge knew that I did get the scram bracelet on. It was approximately 9 a.m. and the judge had already had an order out for my arrest. The clerk advised the judge that I'd had completed his request and the judge came out of his quarters to talk to me. Apparently the day before when I called to advise that I had to have the landline installed first the clerk relayed the message to the judge that I was refusing to wear the bracelet at all. Cathy and I both advise the judge that's not what was stated. The judge had a few sentences to state and he stated them firmly. My girlfriend, whom I have never seen intimidated by anyone was intimidated. We left the courthouse got in her car and I told her, " Holy Moly! That is one judge not to tick off. He scares the crap out of me." And I was being honest he did scare me to death. I felt as if I were to screw up again he would put me in jail and throw away the key.

Cathy had made arrangements with the tow truck driver to return my truck to the house. He delivered the truck and I paid down $800 for the towing and storage. I was so mad at Marshall One phone call to advise me that he was canceling my insurance and I would've spent $417 for a full coverage policy versus the eight hundred just to have it towed. The damage to the truck looked quite minimal. The right side front end had been hit, no damage to the grill, engine or anything other than the tie rod completely damaged and the frame was possibly bent.

I listed the truck for sale on Craigslist and figured a local mechanic could easily fix the truck. Within a few hours a gentleman showed up. He was a mechanic and gave me an estimate to fix the truck which was more than what I had originally paid for the truck. Stressed out and not wanting to talk about it I went back into the house to ask Cathy what was next on our list. I thanked her for being such a wonderful friend and for being there to help me. I was thankful and yet at the same time in a really bad mood. I was overwhelmed. There was too much to deal with and I honestly didn't want to do with any of it. I encouraged Cathy to go ahead and go on home. I advised her that now with court out of the way until I had to go back I would be fine.

Cathy simply smiled, "I don't think so. I will not be leaving here without you."

"No really, you can go home. I am fine, I will go to counseling and back to work."

"You are not staying here in Lakeside," She argued. "You have no license for six months; your truck is not drivable. How will you get back and forth to counseling? You will have your job, this beautiful home that you can easily afford on your own, but you won't have any support."

"But...," I quibbled.

"Not an option!" she said adamantly. "You will be going home with me one way or another. Call Scott and see if he got the court date to plead guilty to your DUI in January."

Man, could she be a bossy little thing. Scott advised that we were going to court the next week and we would plead guilty to the first DUI and push for a trial on the second. Scott advised that they had nothing to go on the second DUI charge but the prosecutor would not drop it. I told her that was fine we would take a second to trial because I had not been drinking that morning and I did have medical documentation verifying that I was not intoxicated.

I really wanted a drink and had become very short tempered and impatient. Exhausted Cathy and I went to bed early. I got a call early the next morning from Jimmy. Jimmy stated that my bracelet did not download and that I needed to do a download immediately. Trying to find some light in my current situation I told Jimmy, It did not download because I cut it off."

"You what?!"

"Just joking Jimmy, what do I need to do?"

"You concerned me. You do not know how many people I have that cut it off as soon as they get a block away from the office. Please do your download."

I followed his directive on how to manually download. It was quite simple; you plugged the device in directly and held a magnet to it. Now I was fascinated by this device and thought it was pretty cool.

Jimmy confirmed he received the download. "Remember no lotions hairspray hair conditioner shaving gel anything with alcohol next to that bracelet it will read positive for alcohol.

Cathy and I began searching the internet for rentals in Butte so I could return home. Most did not allow dogs. I was depressed and wanted to drink. I continued to think it would be so much easier to just stay where I was at and go back to work. Even I didn't have a license for six months I could simply save my money and by the time I have my driver's license back I could buy a new vehicle.

Cathy would hear nothing of it and went to get boxes and start packing. I continue to encourage her to go home because I was miserable and in the back of my mind had suicidal thoughts.

I found a wonderful counselor named Theresa in Bigfork and scheduled an appointment with her for the next day.

It was towards the end of June and it was hot. I really wanted to get into the water but I could not immerse my bracelet. Marshall contacted me via text and asked if he could take Cathy and I boating. I advised him that I would really appreciate and asked if we could go to wild horse island. I wanted to hike the island one last time before moving from Lakeside. I also advised Marshall that we did need to get together to discuss a time frame for him to get completely moved out of the house. I advised him that as soon as I found a rental that I would be returning to Butte. We agreed to maintain our friendship. Cathy and I went about packing up what we could.

Later that evening, without thinking I put on lip balm. A few minutes later I panicked.

"Oh no! Cathy this has alcohol in it! Crap!"

In a panic I ran for my cell phone and dialed Jimmy.

"Jimmy! This is Lori." I said frantically, "I put lip balm on and it has alcohol in it!"

"Did you eat the whole stick?" He answered with slight humor.

"Well, no."

"I think you will be just fine." He reassured me."

"Cathy, I will never make it through this. I do not have the energy for it, I am mentally physically emotionally exhausted I have nothing left."

"Yes, you will. You do not have a choice."

She could be so frustrating. Again I reassured her that I would be okay if she wanted to go home and check on her family. I knew I was wasting my breath. She had made up her mind that she was not leaving until I moved with her.

The next few days were miserable I was still short tempered I wanted to drink. I wanted to get to court and put that behind me. Marshall moved most of his remaining belongings. He took Cathy and I boating for a hike on Wild Horse Island. I had hiked the island many times and had never seen the wild horses. This day I finally got to see the horses. I actually felt a sudden glimmer of hope and renewal. Maybe I could get through this.

We went to court the next week and I pled guilty to my first DUI. I advised the judge that I had already attended the alcohol classes that were being court ordered provided him the certification verifying that I had attended the classes. I advised him that I was seeking professional private counseling. He asked me if I was prepared to spend 24 hours in jail that was mandatory. I stated that I was. Twenty-four hours, no big deal. Well, what I had in my head and what happened were two different things.

I had been to my mother's jail many times. People associated and talked, played cards. I was not worried about it at all. I told Scott and Cathy that I would be fine. I would meet new and interesting people listen to their stories and the time would fly by. Plus I had a prescription for Ativan, I had taken one and would most likely sleep for a few hours anyway.

Like a brave soldier, I was ready. I left the courtroom, gave Cathy all my belongings, except for my prescription that had two pills in it. I was allowed to take one every eight hours as needed for anxiety. A jailor came through the elevator doors and assisted me back to the elevator and into a general booking area. They were pleasant. I told them my mother was a sergeant at a jail in my hometown. We joked about some common general issues. They made the booking as unpleasant for me as possible. The nurse advised me that she normally did not give a controlled substance to an inmate but that she would give my Ativan to me in eight hours.

Then they opened the door to a tiny little cell. "I do not want my own cell." I said with a smile on my face. "I would like to go to general population and be with others."

"You are only here for 24 hours and general population is for long term inmates."

I really did not like the term "inmate" "Oh my god! I am an inmate!" The reality mortified me.

I quietly went into the cell and there was another young lady in there. She was pregnant and sleeping. I did not want to wake her. The jailor gave me a few books to read and advised they would check on me periodically. Well, this is so not what I expected. I wanted to be around others. Thank heavens for Ativan or I would have climbed the walls in the first three hours. I read the first book. The girl woke up and talked to me briefly.

"Whatcha in here for?" she asked.

"I got a DUI. I am doing my mandatory 24 hours. You?"

"I am here for three days. I got in trouble for theft and meth possession."

I looked at her a bit bewildered. "But you are pregnant aren't you?"

"Yes, this will be my third baby." She said quietly. "My other two were taken by the state."

"Do you do meth while you are pregnant?"

She replied yes and that the other two were taken because she had got caught previously selling meth.

"I need to go back to sleep." She said quietly.

I read the second book. I wondered how many hours had passed. I felt like I had been in there for hours and was going literally stir crazy. I had to pee and was so not going to go. There was a toilet in the cell, but also a cell window in which if a guard walked by they would be able to see me. I will hold it.

A period of time went by and I realized. I am so not going to be able to hold it so I watched for the guard to walk by and then hurried. I felt as if I was timing their walk by. This is not fun. This girl is not talking to me. I am bored and I want out of here. Pretty soon a guard came and handed us two trays. Oh my god, I am so not eating that. And what if I did and had to poop in front of this girl. Peeing was bad enough. Nope, no food, no water. I can make it 24 hours. Fortunately, close to bed time the nurse did as agreed and brought me my Ativan.

I tried to fall asleep.

"I love you Ma, everything is going to be okay."

Even though I was responding in my head, I still whispered. "Anthony? I thought you left me."

"Does not work that way, Ma. I never left you. You quit listening."

I drifted off to sleep on a cold uncomfortable matt with a sheer blanket that provided no warmth. What was I whining about? I put myself here.

I slept for about two hours and was awakened by a woman screaming.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned! The Lord is my Savior! Oh Forgive me Father.!"

She repeated this over and over and over until I wanted to scream out to her to "Shut up!"

Then she began yelling to the jailors, "I need a Bible!!! Bring me a Bible!"

"Oh lord, please let me out of here." I thought to myself.

I got up and spoke to one of the jailor's that had a sense of humor. He told me I only had seven more hours to go.

"Seven? I can't make it. You have to let me out now."

He laughed and each hour that went by, he would come to my window and flash his fingers as to how many hours I had left. I should have had three more hours to go but they opened the locked door and told me that I could leave.

"Seriously? Am I really free?"

"Yes, you are free. Here are your clothes, change and come to the front to gather any belongings.

I could not get dressed and out of that building fast enough. I also knew Cathy would be waiting promptly outside for me. I ran out the doors into the parking lot. I wanted that experience behind me. I walked around the parking lot. No Cathy. This was not like her and I did not have my cell so I could not call her. It took me almost an hour to find her. How you lose someone in a small parking lot, I will never know. She was parked right by the door that I came out of. I saw the car when I came out but there were two ladies leaning on the trunk of it so I did not think it was hers. Plus I could not see who was sitting inside of it.

We found each other and my pity party was over. Man, I was ready to pack and move out of this place and back to family and friends. Marshall called to see if I was okay and had survived the 24 hours. I replied, "I do not ever want to do that again!"

I would have to leave the Scram bracelet on until we went to court for the second DUI charge. At this point I did not care. I knew I would not get a DUI on that one with the medical report. I was determined to put my life back on track and Anthony was with me. Just knowing his spirit was close gave me a new determination. Enough to know my pity party was over.

Cathy and I gathered more boxes on the way home. I called Colby and asked him to look at a rental for me that I had found in Butte. Colby called me back and said, "You are not going to live in that neighborhood. I will find you something else."

That evening Cathy and I sat on my deck and stared out at the lake. It was like glass. I sat and admired the beauty and cherished my freedom! My night in jail had made me realize that is not how I wanted to live my life. I had not been living the life I was meant to live. I sat and pondered what on earth I was here for anyway. Why am I here?

Colby called a few days later and stated that he had found me a two bedroom place. "It has hardwood floors and it includes your utilities. I also bought you a car. You will need a car when you get your license back." I cried but this time happy tears and reassured Colby that I would be able to get my own car.

Cathy put a moving team together. I called U-Haul and made reservations for a truck and trailer to bring the truck home. I was ready to get settled, get into counseling and back to work. The company I worked for had been very supportive. I was very appreciative of their support.

## Chapter Eleven

On the third day of August the truck was loaded and I tearfully said my good byes to Marshall. I still loved him dearly. He was a wonderful sweet man but we just did not have enough common interests. I also knew I was not going to be able to be in a healthy relationship until I worked through my grieving issues and got sober. I gave him huge kudos's for trying. With my Mother, Cathy, and an amazing team, we headed to Butte. Colby, Jessica and a team unloaded the truck the next morning and helped me unpack and get settled. I started intensive outpatient counseling with a private counselor, Heidi. She is a licensed addiction counselor and was also known to be wonderful with grief therapy. The next week I joined a support group for alcoholics. Sabrina, who I took to her first meeting a few years prior, offered to support me. Sabrina was one of my best friends so I was not so sure it would work well.

Colby came to get me one day for lunch and I had on shorts. "Colby, are you embarrassed?"

"Embarrassed about what?"

"To be seen with me with this bracelet on? I can put on jeans."

"Hell no, mother. Honestly, I am glad you have it on. I am afraid without it you would have relapsed. A lot of people make mistakes mother. Let's just get you through this. You will be fine, I know you are strong. "

I guess I am Lohanning it for a while." I said quietly with a smile. Colby gave me a slight smile.

I was settled in by September and back to work. I had one more court date coming up in October and was anxious to put that behind me.

My long time pal Ruger had been diagnosed with diabetes in April. He lost his eyesight quickly. He adjusted to the new home quickly and identified the steps needed to navigate himself around outside and indoors. I had a walking trail by the college very close to the house and took the boys for walks daily. Ruger would be so proud of himself that he could go on these walks with me. If I stopped quickly he often ran into the back of my ankles. That would tick him off and he would sit for a few minutes refusing to go any further. It would not last long and he would be back up and marching on proudly, as if he was prancing.

One morning I woke to find Ruger next to me. His little body was hot. I rushed him to the vet. The vet told me that it was not good. I begged him to do what he could and asked about options. The vet spoke with me daily for four days and gave me a status update. On the fourth day, he advised me to come to the office to see if he would eat for me. Cathy and I took him down some food and he snatched it out of our hands so fast. The vet told me to take him home and gave me medications.

I woke up early the morning to prepare for court in Kalispell. Ruger was very hot again.

I called Colby around four in the morning and asked him to take Ruger to the vet as soon as possible. Then I headed out to Kalispell. Colby reassured me, "I will take care of the little guy, mother. Good luck in court and tell Cathy to drive safe."

Cathy and I had to be in court by 9 a.m. We arrived and checked in to find out that it had been canceled.

"Why?" I asked the clerk.

"The judge took a vacation day."

Scott, my attorney, showed up and I asked him if he was aware that the judge was on vacation. He said he hadn't known either. I was ticked. I could not get the Scram bracelet off without his ruling and it was becoming quite costly. But more importantly, I was upset about Ruger.

We headed back to Butte. The vet called and gave me news that I did not want to hear. Ruger was too sick and it was best to let him go. I made arrangements for that afternoon.

Colby joined me and we held Ruger for awhile, I kissed on him and reassured him that I was with him. The vet peacefully put him to sleep. Colby and I both cried and left the office shattered. My little guy that I had for ten years was suddenly gone. I had walked him the day before and during our walk, I had observed him taking pauses and sniffing the fresh air. He tired quickly so I carried him the majority of the walk and he basked in the sun. I was holding him that night and I looked at him. He was staring at me so lovingly with his brown eyes and I knew he was telling me good bye. I rubbed his belly and told him that he would be with me forever. I was not surprised that when I woke up that morning and he was running a high fever that it was his last night to sleep with me. I was devastated.

My attorney called later in the week to tell me that my case had been dropped to a reckless. They simply had no proof to pursue a DUI and we would not be going to trial. He advised I had to appear in court still the next week for the ruling.

Cathy and I drove back the next week, I advised the judge that I was in treatment. Jimmy advised the judge that the entire time I had the Scram bracelet on it was without incident. The judge ruled on a reckless, gave me a fine, and advised Jimmy he could remove the Scram bracelet. In the hallway outside the courtroom I received a pleasant surprise. Jimmy gave me a big hug and was absolutely excited that I was doing so well, and then the Judge came out and told me that he was very proud of me and he loved it that I was doing, "What was right!" I was shocked, the judge I had been petrified of! He was kind. Scott, of course, was very happy and he had done a great job for me on both occasions. Scott had become a very good friend and I would refer him to anyone. He was an amazing attorney.

I was glad that I was in counseling because my counselor, Heidi, was wonderful with grief therapy and helped me to start a healing journey over the loss of Anthony. I was also very glad that she was there for me when Ruger passed. Ruger's passing did trigger me wanting to drink. I still had a hard time with emotional pain and alcohol killed that pain for me. I did not drink though. The first two months after I quit drinking, I was a witch. I hated everything and everyone. I did not drink again because I never wanted to have to get sober again.

On a snowy cold day in December, I was bored at work and began questioning what I was on this earth for. Surely I had a purpose more than management and travel. Crystal clear I heard Anthony say, "Write your book! Just write your book, sit down at the darn computer Ma, the words will come."

This went on for weeks. I would hear Anthony in the middle of the night say, "Ma, get up and write." I would hear him while I was walking the dogs, "Ma, seriously write! Just write!"

So I did. It has been a painful journey one that has left me with scars. With a lot of counseling from Heidi Matlack, LAC, LCSW, the support of my family and friends, I finally began to find peace and solstice in his death. I know he was needed by God for other reasons. I can enjoy riding Harleys again and love the sound of thunder when a large group comes together. I see beauty all around me. I can laugh and enjoy rock climbing without feeling guilty. I am surrounded by family, friends, two lovely little dogs that I adore. But mostly for both Anthony and Colby's unconditional love. They stuck by me through thick and thin, life and death, AND in death.

## Epilogue

In 2016 I finally had the courage to ask about the accident that killed Anthony. Derrick , who was with him on that day gave me the following information.

Derrick did not want to go on the ride that day. He had a horrible feeling he would get hurt doing his usual wheelies. Anthony kept giving him shit about not going so he decided to go. Chris was there as was Lacy.

It was a beautiful June day along Map Rock Road that runs along the Snake River close to Highway 45.

Anthony raced ahead of everyone. Earlier that morning he'd told his wife Lacy to ride at a speed that was comfortable to her. "I'll come back for you."

Lacy said he flew past her. Derrick was behind her. His bad feelings that morning made him cautious. Lacy and Derrick came around a corner to a cloud of dust.

They saw Chris' bike down and Lacy thought Chris had wrecked. She saw someone running through a field and thought it was Anthony. It was Chris running.

Lacy and Derrick dropped their bikes jumping a fence and running for the canal. Derrick thought the worst case scenario is that he is in the canal. Derrick found Anthony and jumped in the water.. He took off his helmet. Anthony was breathing. The water was cold so Derrick tried to pull his clothes off to get sun on Anthony's body. He realized as he tried to take his clothes off that Anthony's right side was shattered. He ran to the road for help. His cell phone was not working because there was no service. He ran to the road and flagged a car down. An ambulance and Life Flight were called.

The police showed up and wanted to impound Lacy and Anthony's bikes. Derrick got into a fight with the cops and called their friend Johnny to meet him at the scene to get the bikes. Derrick was driving on suspended license and the cops were giving him a bad time. They would not take Lacy to the hospital. Derrick was pissed and left the scene to get a trailer. He flagged down a car to get Lacy home so she could get her own transportation to the hospital. Anthony arrived DOA at the hospital.

Derrick was at the shop getting the trailer and Johnny when he got the call that Anthony was dead. His lungs had filled with blood and they could not drain it fast enough. He bled out his nose, ears and mouth.

Derrick was holding onto Beth Wendell and looking into her eyes when she died in January 2007. Six months later Anthony died ten miles from the scene of Beth's wreck.

## ###

 http://www.legacy.com/guestbooks/idahopress/david-anthony-pica-condolences/88465850?cid=full

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