5:12 A.M. - Saturday, Jul. 08, 2006
What to do now?
This was one of those I can't sleep nights when the mind is like a runaway train. Well not a train because it never stayed on track, must be more like a wild horse let loose. Yeah that was it.

My mind is divided, should I do this, should I do that. Should I do nothing, Lord I need some peace.

Little pieces of the puzzle came from hubby during his few hours of wake time, enough to get an idea what is going on within his mind. He had called the coroner, the state police; his ex wife the list is endless.

The person he believes lent a hand in taking his daughters life and knew she was gone before exiting their own house in the middle of the night leaving his daughter upstairs alone until his youngest son and her daughter found her early the next morning. The home should have been a crime scene, instead it was raced through by friends, family, neighbors and those that lived there that had come back to clean up after his daughter was taken to the morgue. By the time tests were run and authorities realized that something wasn't right there was no "crime scene" only people to question that had conflicting statements. This might explain why the police report or coroner reports never were sent as promised. The one that took my husband's daughter life, (why can't I say murdered/killed) has a brother that is a state trooper and that person works in the children and youth department. Now that is a chilling concept.

This all took place in a small town, one known to "bury" certain things when locals might be involved, much easier than facing the truth, allot less messy. The cause of death in the report�not accidental as once thought, not suicide as once thought, asphyxiated someone took the breath from her. The details of how they found her are too ghastly to write, too painful. They believe she was dying after being given pills that were prescribed to someone else and chased down with liquor to help ease the pain of recalling the suicide of her fianc� the father of her children that took place two years ago. That someone might have panicked and "helped" her along. No phone call to 911, no call for medical assistance, a personal decision that ended a life of one much too young to leave this life while leaving three young kids to be without either parent.

Who for sure did this, hubby thinks he knows, authorities think they know, but here is no way to prove it, the investigation that should have taken place was non existent. Just questions, so many people were questioned, no solid answers, the time span were too distant from the time of death and many had already talked amongst themselves.

For now hubby has decided not to go, although I told him I felt he should go. Not for revenge but to be close to his family and sort things out within his mind around those he shared a life with until our move here. Maybe he can find closure if possible, maybe to just get away from this place and be close to those that love him. I want him to go, I too need some time to sort things out, some time that I can go to work and not question all the way home what I might walk into.

The pain and sorrow of the last few days have cut deep; drinking has caused many hurtful things to unnecessarily be spoken. I'm tired but understand his grief, his confusion, and his inability to function. But I no longer want to remain in the battlefield of his anger.

Had this been the first or even second time I could most likely dismiss it, but the call to the bottle rages within him when things spiral out of control. I have seen this many times from the time we relocated to this part of the world. The lack of work, the isolation with the numerous hours I must work to make ends meet, lack of money to finish this place, and devastating news from his home town has all brought the bottle to his lips. Will it end as each time he promises? I feel those words are as empty as the bottles that lay beside the trash.

No tears fell this time, no angry words were hurled back at him, just a sadness over the devastating news from far away and a crushing place in my heart wondering was this the final blow. No fists are ever involved, never have been with this man, but the pain of words have cut deep and mending of the heart if possible will take time.

I want him to leave, I want to leave, he needs peace, and I need peace. Time, such a futile word at this moment, but for now it is all I have. Debt is chaining me at this moment, so I work theses next three days and decisions will be on hold. Decisions, decisions�

Sandyz

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