Pseudo Suzi

Reading back over my previous post I find it kinda ironic that I thought I had hit a limit of sorts. Needless to say, I had no idea what life had in store for me.

To give you some background, in early December Lomee had started drinking heavily (in secret) to deal with emotional issues related to his family. After 2 months of begging him to get help and going through a version of hell I never expected to experience, I finally left him mid-February. I could not see myself continuing to live in the life he was choosing and I felt as long as I was around to clean up the mess, he would never stop and/or get help on his own. I didn’t stop loving him; I was removing myself from a seriously bad situation. I could go into the details but they are pretty ugly. I’m sure you can draw your own conclusions and you may not be far from the truth. I was trying to be a loving, supportive wife at the risk of losing my own sanity. Needless to say, it was difficult for me to objectively look at the situation I was in, so after much discussion with family and friends I returned to Chicago.

Those 2 or so months when he was drinking were so opposite from what we had been living the previous 5. I felt blindsided and had no clue what to do or how to react. It was so stressful trying to pretend everything was fine when I was at work or talking to family, but having this feeling of unease about what was going on in my personal life with my husband. I’d drive home from work crying, wondering what was waiting for me when I got home.

He stopped coming to bed to sleep, claiming insomnia and needing time alone. When I started find empty vodka bottles I figured out he was staying up all night drinking and passing out in his recliner. I started searching around and would find some with booze in them. I’d dump them out if I felt like fighting or fill them with water if I was too exhausted from trying to make him see what was happening to us. When I’d confront him we would have a huge fight with it always ending up with him promising to quit.

He was unmotivated: stopped cooking, started going into work later and leaving earlier, stopped playing guitar, gave up showering on weekends, watched DVDs for hours and days on end. So, he didn’t stop drinking…just tried hiding it better but the signs were easy to see once I knew what to look for. After a huge blow-up and my meeting with a therapist only to hear what I already knew, I started talking more with my sister about what was happening. On Valentine’s Day when I had made plans for us, he decided not to come home from work and went out with a friend. He didn’t come home for 2 days. My sisters and family were down there that Saturday to pack my stuff and head to Chicago.

I spoke at length with Lomee over the next week. He had stopped drinking (for the moment) and was depressed because he had a meeting with his work with the result being that he was to go into the EAP program and get well or it would cost him his job. He accepted these terms, however rejected every offer of help in order for him to keep his therapy appointments. He canceled and rescheduled 3 appointments over the next 4 days, never making any of them. Ultimately, they ended up terminating him because of this.

We discussed him finding a new job and us reconciling once he was in a better place. He had a couple leads from friends on jobs in other parts of the country and was talking to a head hunter. He seemed down but was level-headed and motivated. He wasn’t feeling well and said he was going to get some rest and would talk to me later. I wasn’t able to reach him the rest of the day and night so the next day I had the police do a well visit check. He was home and said he knew I was trying to reach him but he wanted to be alone and would call me later.

I didn’t talk to him for a few days and was getting worried so I had a neighbor go over and check on him. The neighbor couldn’t get an answer to his knocks, noticed the mail piling up and called the police. I received a call later that afternoon from his sister saying that the police were able to get into the house and they found him dead at the bottom of the stairs. It looked like he had started throwing up blood at the top of the stairs and collapsed, sliding down to the bottom. The cause of death was cardiopulmonary arrest due to diabetes and pancreatitis.

I was instantly dropped into a state of surreality that continued for quite a few weeks. I went back to our home to handle a minutia of tasks that I never expected to have to deal with. So many friends and family members helped me along the way: taking me to the airport, paying for my ticket, picking me up and making a 2 hour drive to our town, giving me a place to stay so I didn’t have to stay at the house where he died, opening their workplace to me so I would have somewhere to make calls and send faxes from. My close friend Dana flew in from Chicago for a couple days to not only be with me but also help out with packing and the many phone calls that needed to be made, thereby making my life a little easier which allowed me to start grieving in a place where I felt safe and the comfort of a good friend. My mere words or actions cannot express the gratitude I have for the people that helped or offered assistance. I am eternally grateful for every prayer sent my way, not only during the immediate days after his passing but also continuing through today.

Lomee had many friends throughout is life that thought so highly of him, as he did them. He expressed many times how much he loved my family and was amazed by our closeness and the laughter we share so easily. He enjoyed watching movies about the triumph of the human spirit, which always left him in tears but didn’t stop him from watching them over and over again. You only had to look into those amazing blue eyes and listen to his soft southern voice to know his faith and see his dreams; they were both such an integral part of his very existence. Despite the problems he had, he was a very sweet man with a warm, loving heart and an extremely kind soul, a man I know that will be truly missed by many. He played a kick-ass guitar, had a brain like a computer, was damn near a chef in the kitchen and loved me more than I thought was ever possible.

In: Life, My Sweetie, Sadness | | #