Hello old friend.
When I moved to Sacramento to escape a horrible marriage that was full of both physical and mental pain. My life changed. I came from abuse but I had lots of resources, a house and I thought a very supportive set of friends. My friends have come in and out of my life, the true ones stayed. I was lonely and I read an article about a group called Meet-Up. You find something you are interesting and you join the Meet-Up group to find others who have common interests. I joined three groups. One was a Trivia group, another was Sacramento Singles, and the third was Chica's Latinas a woman's group who was devoted to doing community projects. I quickly learned that though I know lots of silly trivia, the people of the trivia group were not friendly and after a few gatherings, I decided it was not for me. The Sacramento Singles group was interesting. Their main goal was to go to bars, try to hook up and drink. I did not fit in since I was not a drinker and my luck with men was not great so I feared getting involved with anyone. The last group had promise. I went to the meeting and it was a cross group of women from their 20's to 50's who wanted to do things to change how Hispanic women get involved in the community. I was lucky, I connected with the group's founder and we became fast friends even with our age difference. I was much older and she was in her 20's. We had the same outlook on social projects and I filled my days volunteering at woman's shelters and other causes with women who had it worse off than me. Pity was replaced with a sense of purpose. I did not have much but I had the time to give to others who had less than I. It was a fork in the road for me. I took the fork and felt better for it. I still was dealing with cancer and chemo but I was channeling depression into feeling good about myself because I could listen and identify with the women at the homeless shelter. I had not been homeless but I had despair. I knew that starting over was hard but it was obtainable.
After helping out with various projects, I no longer sat alone in the apartment with Jennifer. I hosted small gatherings with the ladies I met. I found out that I could cook a dinner party with findings from the Dollar Store and Grocery Outlet. They brought the wine and I cooked a good meal. I could bake a mean dessert and life began not to suck as much. There were challenging days. I steal struggled with finances but I started saving small amounts and every once in a while I would sell a piece of artwork. I showed at every chance I got and my story of abuse and cancer helped me with producing some good photography and paintings.
The best part was I was also able to help my oldest with my first grandchild while she worked. I had a cancer break and the baby had colic and I was able to soothe her. I took her on outings to Gymboree and played with her and Puggles the puppy who turned out to be a great dog. They both made me fill loved. The love that had waned a bit in other places was being replaced with that of a new love of being a grandmother. I watched the baby for 6 months until I came out of remission. It was a wonderful 6 months. Somehow life felt different. I had a calmness now. I could deal with chemo and still do projects with the Chicas. My new friends invited me out when I could and I was starting to feel happy. A new feeling that had been missing for so many years. Jennifer and I had learned to live on less and found out that there are a lot of free activities to amuse ourselves with. I took over managing the apartment complex which helped with the rent and gave another thing to do. It allowed us to have a bit more money to go on side trips when we could.
I would babysit when I could and one June day after a session at Gymboree, I got a phone call from a number that I recognized was a Kaiser HMO number. I answered thinking it was an appointment reminder. But it was not. A woman who said she was a social worker with the hospital said Armando who after trying to divorce him was still my husband had been taken into the ER. She said it was extremely important that come right away. It was a matter of life or death. I had the baby and quickly dialed my daughter's office. I told her she needed to come get the baby and I thought something was extremely wrong with her dad. I had a feeling that he was dying. I told her something inside of me was telling me it was his time. He had been an alcoholic all our married life. Since he quit his job, the court ordered me to pay for his medical insurance and I knew he had been told that his liver was gone and that he might have stomach cancer. Armando had been told that if he had another drink he would die. He never listened to anyone so I know he was still drinking even after the diagnosis. He still called me in the middle of the night to berate me. Funny thing is when I started feeling better about myself, the horrible things he said did not hurt. He no longer affected my self esteem.
Marissa came for the baby and followed me in her car to the hospital. We went to the ER and told them I was his wife and had received a call from the social worker. The guard asked for ID and went back into the office. He spoke to several people and they just kept staring at me and my daughter. Finally the social worker came out. Her words were surreal. Another woman had shown up claiming to be his wife and was in the room with Armando speaking with the doctors. I showed her my ID and said he and I are separated, going thru a divorce but legally I was still the wife. She left and soon the security guard was escorting a Latina woman out. I saw her crying and it struck me, this was the woman who had claimed to be me. She sat down and I was escorted in. I saw Armando lying lifeless with a breathing tube in place. The nurse said he had been found on the ground soaked passed out and someone called 911. A doctor came in and apologized for the mix up and began explaining to me and my daughter that he was brain dead. His liver and stomach had exploded because he had been drinking. My torturer of all those years was now a vegetable on a table breathing with the assistance of a machine. He could no longer reach up and hit me. He could no longer hurt me with his words. I felt pity for him, and when I looked at my daughter in tears holding her baby I felt so sorry for her. The doctor said I needed to make a decision because no advance directive was in place. I thought for a moment and said I had another daughter and my husband had a brother that I wanted to speak with before I could give them an answer. The doctor said there was no coming back from this and I needed to make the best decision for his quality of life. I made a call to Jennifer's work and spoke to her boss. I told them that it was an emergency and Jennifer needed to come to the hospital ASAP. Jennifer did not drive so her boss offered to bring her. I called his brother and gave him the same news.
My daughter and I began to talk. She was the attorney. She was logical even in this highly emotional state. We both knew that her dad would not want to be kept alive. If there was no chance of bringing him back, he would want to be let go. I told her Jennifer needed to be there to make sure she was on board with this decision. She arrived within minutes. We huddled together and cried. We agreed that letting him go was the best decision. Miguel, his brother arrived. He started demanding that they do something. Surely there was something that they did not try to bring his brother back. The doctor said there was no coming back. He said he wanted him kept alive. The doctor informed him it was not his decision, but mine. I was going to have to pay for the care and legally I was his wife. At that point a receptionist came in and asked several questions. First off she needed the copay for his hospital admission and that there was a woman claiming she was more than the wife to Armando insisting on coming in along with his other family and friends. I said where is his wallet? I was going to use his money to pay for this since I had very little. I was informed that this woman had his wallet and was in the waiting room. Feeling indignant, I mustered all the strength I had and walked into the waiting room. I saw this woman being surrounded by Armando's friends and family. I asked her calmly for his wallet and checkbook. She said she wanted to know how he was doing. I told her in a very controlled voice that I need his things to get him checked in. She handed me the wallet. His family asked if they could come back. I said no. His daughters were with him and needed time.
Once in the room I opened the wallet. All his credit cards, debit cards and cash was missing. There were pictures of his daughters and his license only. I paid the fee with my card. The doctor came back in and asked if I was ready to make a decision. I said yes. I wanted him to be let go, in according to his previous wishes. I asked if it would be painless. He assured me it would be and they would be moving us into a family suite to wait. My oldest daughter was struggling with the baby and I quietly told her to say goodbye and leave. She needed to care for her baby and go to her husband. She looked grateful for that. She said her goodbyes and left. Then Jennifer and I stood there with his brother. He began calling his mother and other family members telling them what was going on. I asked Jennifer if she would be ok for a few minutes. I went out to the waiting room and confronted this woman. Who was she? Where were his cards? Where were the keys to his car? She said she had no idea about the money or cards. His friend said he had the car. I asked him if he would drive it back to the house and give the key to a trusted friend. Armando had been moving the weekend before. He had let our house go into foreclosure. There was a check from the bank with both our names on it to leave the house that should have been in the wallet. He had called me a few days earlier to see if I would sigh off on it and split it. The check was not in the wallet. I told this woman to get out of the hospital. That she would not be allowed to see him. I told her that the mere fact she pretended to be me was appalling and I wanted to give my daughter the last moment with her dad without her sordid involvement. She looked at me with hatred. She said I would pay for what I was doing and left. His friends and cousins asked if they could say their goodbyes. I said only his close family would be allowed in. This was not going to be a circus. I wanted Jennifer to have a peaceful goodbye.
Returning to the room was surreal. It felt like a burden was lifting but yet another was starting. I thought it would be minutes before he would be gone.......but his body hung on for hours. We stood there holding hands praying and wishing that it would be over. His close cousins came in and said their goodbyes and his sister came in. She asked if I would allow his body to be taken to Mexico for burial. I said yes but would need help with the expenses of sending him. They agreed that they would help.
Suddenly a gasp was escaping from Armando and within seconds he was gone. Jennifer screamed and asked the nurse to save him. It was over. His body had taken his last breath and he was gone. I cried, I felt a sigh of relief and prayed for God to forgive his sins. Jennifer and I clung onto each other and all of the sudden the room was overflowed with his friends and family. People were touching him, crying over him and causing such a commotion. Jennifer became hysterical. She shouted to stop touching her dad. I yelled for security and had the room cleared. A pastor came in and we prayed again for him. There is so much paperwork when someone passes. So many decisions to be made at the spur of the moment. Donor forms were put in front of me and I agreed that whatever could be saved should be taken to help anyone it could. I called my other daughter and told her that he was gone. I called my family and gave them the same news. Jennifer and I finally left the hospital and went back to the apartment. I called the bank to see if there was money in the accounts to help with the shipping of the body. They explained that hours before all his accounts had been cleaned out. I asked by whom. The bank said someone used his debit card and checks to empty out the accounts. The woman at the hospital had made good on her promise. She paid me back. The next day I went to our family home. I unlocked the doors and everything was gone. Even wall fixtures were missing. They took all the appliances, furniture, his clothes and even the bathroom vanity. It was an empty shell. His family and the woman must have stayed up all night to clean out the house. I secured the car keys and hid it at a friends house. I called his brother and said I had found the house empty. He said he had taken what belonged to his brother to pay for his expenses of going to Mexico. I asked for the items that were mine, left to me by my mother be returned. He said no. I asked for his suit for his burial, he said no. He said I will help you send his body to Mexico but that is all you get. I didn't know what to do. I called my daughters and they were stunned and said, we lived without those things for a while now, let them have them. I started calling funeral homes and found one to ship his body to Mexico. They quoted 10000 dollars for everything. I did not have that kind of money. I called Armando's sister and brother and told them the cost. They both told me, get him to Mexico as you promised and maybe we will help you. I drove to my oldest daughter's house with Jennifer. We sat around the dining table talking about what to do. My daughter's husband said he would take care of the expense. I will always be grateful for that gesture. The next day, after not sleeping we went shopping for a suit. My daughters bought him his final resting clothes. His body was prepared to be shipped to Mexico but it took 30 days to get all the permits and proper coffin. His family never paid a dime. They stole everything, demanded his final burial spot and never even let me have a shirt for him.
We were told after the arrangements were made that my daughters and I were not welcome in Mexico for the funeral my son in law paid for. It was ok because we did not want to be near them. We held a small service for him in Roseville. We said our goodbyes. The chapter of abuse was over. I cried because at one point I did love him. He gave me two daughters that mean the world to me. He also taught me that I could not be defeated no matter what he did to me. His beatings, his verbal abuse hurt at the time but in retrospect I became a survivor. I learned to value people over things. I learned that no matter that he called me ugly and fat, that I was indeed beautiful in my own way. That I did suffer from cancer, lupus and depression but I was more than my diseases. My life mattered. I mattered. I raised two daughters alone and even with all our imperfections we were good people. My spirit had suffered over the years but God was still in my life and that sustained me. I was getting a do over in life. I could stay bitter over all that had happened or I could move on and see what the future held. My life started over that June and it was a good start.
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