Masterpiece in Progress by Smith, TL (snow like ashes txt) 📕

friend met me at the car and got me in the house.  I hadn’t been home long when Pat (our friend and bartender) showed up and just let me cry until my other friend Debbie and Trish could get to me.

Debbie and I went later that evening to his mom’s house, where I finally met Alicia in person.  They had told me (in a later phone call) that he had a heart attack, but when I got there, Alicia was asking me pointed questions about drug use and her dad and did I know?  I was like, “Know what?”

I was reeling from his death and now this?

When he hadn’t shown up for work Monday or Tuesday they grew concerned, so they called the fire department and asked for a welfare check.  The fire department broke into his house and found him.

He was sitting in his recliner with a syringe still in the top of his right hand (he was right-handed so bruises on that hand would be easier to explain), dead.

He had injected a lethal dose of Demerol, morphine, and fentanyl.  They would later rule it an accidental overdose, but I’m not convinced.  To this day, I’m not convinced.  He was a NURSE; he KNEW what that would do to him.  Maybe that was why he “needed” to spend that Sunday with his family?

I will never have the answer and I miss him to this day.  Maybe even more than I miss Jerry.  I feel awful saying that, but what I had with Kenny was so different than what Jerry and I had.  His death affected me in a different way.

The days that followed were long and sad.  I spent nearly every day at the funeral home when the medical examiner FINALLY released his body.  The people at the funeral home knew my name and would speak to me each time.  How did they know my name?

I spent hours at a time there.  Thinking, talking to him, asking God why, crying.

I noticed he had a bruise near his forehead, like maybe he had fallen.  But they told me he was still sitting in chair, so he couldn’t have fallen.  Maybe he hit it before the OD?  There had to be a rational explanation, but each day, the bruise was growing.  I also noticed an unpleasant smell but didn’t attribute it to anything other than all the dead people in the mortuary.

The day of his funeral arrived and just like always, my sister and brother in law were by my side.  The stench in the funeral home was wretched and there was no escaping it.  It permeated every nook and cranny.  And when I went in to see him, his entire face was discolored.  I asked the employees what was happening, why was his face like that?  They kindly sat me down and explained to me that his body was beginning to decompose and that was the smell and the discoloration.  I dissolved into a fit of angry, bitter, sad, tears while my sister and daughter tried to comfort me.

Alicia arrived and handed me his cologne and asked me to please spray him, she didn’t want people to remember him this way, so I did and for a brief minute, thought it was all a horrible nightmare.  His cologne brought back so many memories.  I still can’t be around someone wearing it and NOT think of him.

But even that could not hide the smell of his body, so Alicia and I decided the casket should be closed.

If I thought I was broken before, what the hell was this?

I was a mess.  I was angry at God.  Why did He keep taking people away from me?  What did I need to learn?

My mom used to tell me, “God will keep putting the same obstacle in your path until you learn to get OVER it, not around it, not under it, OVER it.”

“Well God, what am I missing here?  You’ve taken my dad, my mom, my husband, now Kenny.”  “Tell me!  TELL ME!!!!”  Sobbing, “God I don’t understand.  Please help me understand.”

I abruptly quit my job at the City, determined to go back to school and make something of my life.  THAT was a mistake.  I never enrolled but did manage to find another job at a construction company.

Believe it or not, Jerry and E were really supportive and actually helpful to me through this.  I was incredibly lonely and sad.  Not even music could soothe me, and they saw that and welcomed me. I was grateful for that.  Weird huh?

Weeks later, on the spur of the minute, Jerry, E, Paige and I loaded up in the car and went to Six Flags in Texas.

Other than the two of them fighting constantly, we had a blast and by then, I was beginning to accept everything that had happened.

I even counseled her on Jerry’s drinking.  She was me in the beginning.  I told her to keep the peace, just to shut up and let it go while we were there, so she did, but not before she threw his favorite Dale Earnhardt limited edition, silver, can koozie out the window with his beer in it WHILE WE WERE DRIVING DOWN THE HIGHWAY.

The crazy with her was just beginning, but a much-needed distraction from my grief.

I visited Kenny’s grave often.  Did some songwriting.  Sang when I could.  Kenny used to play the guitar a little and the first song he ever played for me was James Taylor’s “Carolina in my Mind.”  It’s still a favorite for me.

Chapter 23

E’s Crazy

Jerry and E continued having problems.  Paige would tell me that she was literally crazy.  I realized this was accurate when she called me late one night.

She was clearly distraught (or so I thought) and told me she just wanted someone to know where to find her.  She was