Just Breathe Again (3 page)

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  For seven months she lived at St. Cecelia’s, talking to her husband and pleading with God to let him live. She prayed, begging God to work a miracle and bring him back to her. She longed to see Vince’s beautiful dark eyes, and hear his voice one more time. She wanted to hear him call her name. Hearing his voice again wasn’t meant to be. Little did Jeannie know, the last words she would ever hear from her husband, he said before he left on his motorcycle that beautiful fall day.

  The swelling in his brain wasn’t improving like the doctors had hoped. Each day the realization became inevitable what had to be done. She kept telling herself Vince would get better. He pulled through everything. Yes, he may be a little banged up after this and take a while to recover, but to Jeannie he had to live. He wasn’t going to leave her like that, devastated and alone. He promised to always be there with her forever and he didn’t go back on his promises. Vince didn’t give in or call it quits on anything in life. She knew he would come back to her and be her husband again.

  Jeannie and the kids spent most of their time with Vince talking, singing to him, and sharing holidays as he lay there unresponsive to anything. They spent Thanksgiving eating with Vince in his room while his favorite football team played on the television. Jeannie brought turkey and the sides from the local grocery store, and they ate together around his bed. The kids insisted Vince have a Christmas tree, so Jeannie bought him an artificial and they decorated the tree for his room. On Christmas day, they spent the entire day with Vince in the hospital with the three of them singing Christmas carols, and opening his presents they had purchased for him.

  By spring, Vince’s health was beginning to take a toll on them. The kids knew everyone on staff and loved spending time with Vince yet longed for their old lives back. They were doing poorly in school, and Lydia missed out on running track. They were exhausted from staying at two houses and not knowing what would happen from day to day. They didn’t want to go home or leave their dad’s side and when they were at the hospital, they didn’t want to be there. It became both physically and mentally draining on everyone. On the days when the kids were in school and Jeannie had to work, Marsha and John helped with homework and dinner so Jeannie spent her evenings with Vince. Some nights she would sleep in the room with him and get up the next morning for work still exhausted. She ran on adrenaline and caffeine during those awful days.

  The bills piled up from the hospital and suppliers for the business. They had a crew of men needing paid, projects needing finished, and Jeannie had no idea how she would manage. The bank account dwindled away fast and Jeannie had to use their savings to pay what they owed.

  Seven months after the accident, Vince still wasn’t making any progress. He wasted away lying there and soon became unrecognizable. His once toned and perfect body turned into a bag of bones, not moving or responding to anything. After a long discussion with the doctor, he determined Vince wasn’t going to get better and would stay in a coma for the rest of his life.

  “Mrs. Franklin, I know this is difficult for you and your family. Vince is not improving. He may not come out of this coma. This is difficult to say to you. His organs are beginning to fail. I’m afraid you have a decision to make.”

  She hung her head down and looked at the ground. “I know.”

  “We can keep him alive like this for a while. The end results are not good.  He won’t have a normal life again, and possibly never leave a hospital. I don’t think Vince would want that life if he had a choice. Nobody wants to die. I have not met a patient happy to die or one that would want to live poorly either. This is a tough decision, Mrs. Franklin,” he said.

  Jeannie knew what had to be done. She asked Marsha to keep the kids that night. She needed to be alone in order to accept the inevitable and make the best decision for Vince. The night passed in waves of screaming, crying, and sleeping in the darkness of her room alone. She laid in bed and screamed his name, hoping maybe somehow his soul would hear her. When she couldn’t scream anymore, she cried. She cried from the depths of her being. Why? If he would have waited a minute or two longer to leave, this wouldn’t have happened. If he would have not gone, he would still be with them. And out of total despair, Jeannie wished she would have agreed to go too so that she could die along with him.

  Even though he couldn’t speak, he could still breathe. She would lie next to him in the hospital with her head on his chest and listen to his beating heart. She talked to him and read him motorcycle magazines out loud. She told him how the kids were doing, what the weather was like. To Jeannie, if he was breathing, he was her husband, and life flowed in his body. She didn’t want to give up on him. If for some miracle he did survive, he would be a vegetable and have no real life. He would not be able to speak, walk, or take care of himself. She had to consider him and what quality of life he had being hooked up to a machine. Jeannie knew Vince would have been pissed to be dependent on people for everything. She had to let him go and let a part of herself die. Stopping the machines that kept Vince alive was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She couldn’t comprehend the fact she was going to end her husband’s life in a few hours. They wouldn’t grow old together, share milestones in their children’s lives, or watch their grandchildren sitting on the front porch. Was she making the right decision? What if he came out of his coma? What if by some miracle he survived? She stayed up crying and pacing the floor until the sun rose the next morning. She screamed for God to give her a sign. She begged for anything to tell her what she was about to do was the right thing. As the morning light broke through the dark bedroom, no sign came.

 That morning, they went to the hospital to do the inevitable. Lydia was so upset, Jeannie had to pull over and let her throw up twice. A horrible morning she wouldn’t want to relive. A morning she couldn’t get out of her head. With a shaky hand and tears streaming down her face, she signed the papers stopping her husband’s heart from beating. She would feel the last and final beat early one rainy morning. She talked to him before they did turn off the machines and told him how much she loved him, how much she was going to miss him, and what a wonderful husband and father he had been. The kids said goodbye and poor Lydia hung on to him as tight as possible, begging him to stand up. John and Marsha were there with her. John had to pull Lydia off her father and take her out of the room screaming and crying.

  “No, Daddy. Please wake up. Please don’t leave us,” she cried. Michael hung onto Jeannie and screamed.

  “Mommy, don’t let them take Daddy. Please make them stop. You promised he would be okay. Mommy stop this.” That morning was an unspeakable walk through hells door. The kids were led out of the room and it was Jeannie, Vince, and the nurse when the equipment to keep him alive silenced forever. Jeannie kept her hand on his chest and stared at his face as his heart slowed down and eventually stopped. The long beeping noise told her Vince had left. In her life, ending her husbands, had to be the worst thing she ever did or ever would do. When it ended, they took Vince away and gave her his belongings he had on him the day of the accident. Everything he wore, and anything left in his motorcycle, was put in a bag and given back to Jeannie. She took the bag home, put it in her closet, and couldn’t bear to look at it till much later. She couldn’t look at his things and smell his cologne, still lingering on his clothes.

  Jeannie had to figure out a way to pay for his funeral. Her mother, Victoria decided she had time to come up after Vince died. She stayed for two days in a hotel. Jeannie’s mother offered to pay for the funeral. She offered to pay the funeral expenses, including the plot of land needed to bury him. Distraught and desperate, Jeannie accepted her offer without an argument. The only other option she had was to have him cremated and bring him home in a box. Not what she had in mind for the love of her life. Jeannie went with her mother to the funeral home to pick out a casket and a plot near his parents in Cedartown Cemetery. His plot was under a tree and while they were purchasing it, Jeannie’s mom purchased two more plots, just in case. The day of the funeral pulled at Jeannie’s stability. She was wrecked and tried to keep it together to get through the day. Jeannie made it through the mass and to this day, she doesn’t remember much of the service. Once the funeral ended, her mom wouldn’t let her forget what she did. Victoria didn’t let things like that go when she did anyone a favor. Jeannie didn’t care. Just to get through the days was hard enough. She couldn’t worry about what she owed her mother or how she would pay her back.

   The next day, Victoria had another excuse to leave in a rush. This time it was a small surgical procedure she was having and could not cancel. Her mom’s quick departure was overwhelming to Jeannie; her mom didn’t stay and help her with the kids. She didn’t even offer. It was more like “I told you so” attitude she had and did not want to stick around to be asked to help in any way. Jeannie had no intentions on asking for money, she needed her mom’s love and support and nothing else.

  Lydia and Michael were a total mess. They didn’t want to go to school, church, or anywhere. Michael cried in his sleep and Lydia stayed in her room under the covers. For the longest time they blamed Jeannie for letting Vince die. They thought she should have left him alone and maybe, he would have woke up. She was alone, broke, and devastated. As the weeks went on, the devastation of their lives took hold. That’s when Jeannie’s world came crashing down on her even harder.

    Jeannie fell into a deep depression and could not keep up with the bills. Within a year they lost the house, land, the cars, and everything they worked so hard to keep. Jeannie refused when Marsha tried to give her a loan. It wasn’t her responsibility to help with their problems. To spend time with the kids was one thing; giving them money was something different. She had to take the kids and move to the one place they could afford. Marsha insisted they move into her guest house for a while. Jeannie considered, but couldn’t accept. She had to depend on herself and it was a big imposition to move in on her best friend. Through someone at work, she found a trailer to rent for next to nothing. She couldn’t imagine living in a trailer ever in her life. Her mom would have said she told her so, but what anyone said didn’t matter. Jeannie had to do what she could to keep a roof over their heads, and food in the refrigerator.

  Moving day was the second hardest day of her life. To sell, pack up, and leave the home Vince built ripped at her already broken heart. To watch her children once again lose something they loved, tore her apart.

  Their new home was white and aqua, with a small porch you walked up to get to the door. The ancient trailer came with two dying shrubs out front, a busted up faded gnome with no nose, and a scrawny cat that ran every time you came near it. The trailers next to them were almost touching. Each one as pathetic as the next. A rusted car was usually in the driveway, the lawns were dirt, and the people that lived in them seemed to always be outside. Walking into the small living room, you could see the entire house. A kitchen taken out of the 1970’s sat behind the living room and down the hall was two small bedrooms and one bathroom with a cracked tub.

  When the SUV she drove had to go back to the bank, Marsha sent John with her down to by a car at the “buy here pay here” place.  She bought a 1995 Jeep Cherokee, covered in rust and a clanking sound she had no idea what it could be. For the money, John said the piece of shit, was better than any of the other pieces of shit they tried out. He wanted to go and buy Jeannie a car himself and she refused to the point of getting angry. Something she bought would have to do. It was a car, and the car took her to both jobs she needed, to keep the kids in a home and fed.

  Her first job, other than working with Vince, was at CXX Trucking Company. They hired her to work in dispatching. She spent a good portion of her day in a cubicle with no windows, and in a garage that smelled like diesel. The men were rough and tough, and she had a hard time telling them what to do without being treated poorly or hit on. Two nights a week and most weekends, she waitressed at the local sports bar. Her legs and back hurt every day and she was in a constant state of dread. There wasn’t a day that Jeannie didn’t get up already exhausted, even on the weekend. Her problems showed when she looked in the rear view mirror noticing the dark circles forming under her puffy eyes.  It was life. A life she didn’t ask for, just one she had to live. Her husband’s death changed her in ways she never dreamed, but it was just the beginning to what lay ahead of her. This is the story of a woman that walked through hell barely hanging on. A woman that never knew she had the strength to pull herself up and go on again.

Chapter 1

“
L
ydia, are you coming?” her mom yelled through the thin bathroom door.

  Lydia tried to move her aching body and get enough strength to speak. “One minute, Mom.”             

  Lydia’s body didn’t want to cooperate. She tried to tell her body to move, though nothing helped. Nothing would register from her brain. The pain took over everything.

  “Your brother has to use the bathroom before we leave for school, so please hurry,” Jeannie yelled, this time knocking on the door.

   As the pain passed through her head and down her body, all she could do was whisper. “Okay.”          

  Jeannie was becoming more frustrated by the minute. “One minute is all we have Lydia then I’ll be late again, fired, and we will be living in a tent. Please move a little faster. It’s school, not the prom.”         

   For the past few weeks, Lydia made her mom late for work every day. Jeannie had no idea her daughter wasn’t feeling well again, and not telling her. She figured the procrastination had to do with not getting enough sleep, studying, or on her phone. Jeannie feared Lydia’s behavior could be a sign of rebellion or something worse. What if she was taking drugs or worse yet, dating some degenerate, or pregnant? Lydia was a straight-A student, track star, and involved at her church. She liked boys, but had not yet dated a serious boyfriend. She would have known if that was the case. Jeannie had no idea what was happening because Lydia didn’t want to worry her. Jeannie had been through too much the past year and finally getting back on her feet. Lydia didn’t want her mom to become concerned with her headaches. They had enough to worry about since their lives had changed so drastically. No longer could they run to a doctor when they felt a cold coming on or a headache. They had no medical insurance, or money to go to a doctor. Lydia didn’t want her mom to have another bill she could not pay for even though she said going to the doctor didn’t count. Lydia saw the “didn’t count” from her dads hospital stay piling up on the counter and her debt didn’t need to get bigger.