September 2021: July and August were filled with several heated and repetitive conversations. I spent a lot of time making laps around the parking lot at work listening to my mom cry about her beloved drug dealer husband leaving her. The drug dealer himself called to try to share his side of the story.
I am not sure why he thought I would want to hear his side. Our conversation exploded when I confronted him on the fact that he had been cheating on my mother for over a year on the phone that my husband and I had been, for nine years at that point, paying for. Once he realized there would be no further relationship with me or my family once their divorce was finalized the drug dealer went on the attack. He accused me of forcing him to marry my mother after they had been together for eighteen years.
Side Story: In 2019 the drug dealer was arrested for, hold onto your hats, dealing meth. I know you are so shocked. While he was in jail, he had a cardiac event that resulted in him being released ROR with an external defibrillator vest. My mother was in hysterics, and I had a conversation with both of them about what would happen if the drug dealer dropped dead. I suggested he either marry my mother so she would legally have the rights to stay in her home of eighteen years, or the drug dealer should put her on the deed to the land and trailer. Keep in mind this was phone conversation had while I was in Utah, and they were in Texas. This is the conversation the drug dealer is referencing when he says I 'forced' him to marry my mother.
December 2021: My mother had been living in an RV on a friend's land for a few weeks when I received a call stating that she was screaming and wailing all day every day and her friends no longer wanted her to be there. Options being limited, I loaded my kids into our car and drove the twenty-two hours from Hill AFB to Temple Texas.
Once in Temple I was confronted by a version of my mother that flashed me back to September 2000 when my mother was mourning her disastrous second marriage. She was raw, wounded, and attacking everyone within reach. I kept my eyes focused on the end goal of getting her divorce finalized, getting her back to Utah, getting her stabilized, and then getting her back on her feet.
My sisters and I came together to work out a game plan. I was to take my mom back to Utah with me, get her taking her meds regularly, give her some structure, and get her emotionally stabilized-ish. Once the holidays were over we agreed that our mother would then go live in her RV in College Station near my youngest sister. We chose that location so that my youngest sister and her husband at the time could help her get to doctor's appointments, get her groceries, and give her the opportunity to be near some family.
March 2022: My mother came and stayed with my family for six weeks. I got her organized, on her meds, and as emotionally stabilized as I could. Middle of January I put her on a plane back to Texas and she moved back into her RV in College Station. Unfortunately, my sister had not been completely forth coming about her family situation. In March my youngest sister opened up about the state of her marriage, and her struggle with alcoholism. Her life was hanging on by a thread. I felt for her, but I was also furious that she accepted responsibility for my mother when she was barely keeping her life together.
My middle sister was not in a place to offer help to either our mother or our youngest sister. I was left to not only juggle my responsibilities as a wife and mother while my husband deployed, but I was also working in a new career, getting ready for a move, trying to help my mother navigate getting approved for social security disability, and trying to fill in the gaps as much as I could for my youngest sister's family.
July 2022: My family moved to Nellis AFB. During this move I had many hours on the road to think about the state of my sister's lives. My heart was broken for them and the pain they were in. I began replaying conversations and situations that led them to where they were just trying to figure out what could have been done differently to steer them down a different path. All of that thinking kept circling me back to our childhood and their unresolved issues.
September 2022: I began making TikTok Videos. The first video I made was titled Ketchup Sandwiches. I received an outpouring of love and really great responses. As the videos progressed, I began to feel more like I was pouring into and stirring up the trauma pot rather than helping. After a lot of thought I stopped making videos and prayed about how I could share my story while also helping. I wanted to show that healing was possible.
January 2023: I was praying and doing some free writing just trying to get some thoughts out of my head. About an hour later I reread what I wrote and was shocked at how my thoughts had come together. Finally, God had shown me how to share my story while spreading hope. From there the book began to take form, and that is how Ketchup Sandwiches came to be.
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