Hold My Halo and Pass the Wine

With any long-term relationship, there is usually a natural evolving into the next stage. Additionally, to just dating each other, there is the addition of meeting each others’ parents, bringing your girlfriend/boyfriend to regular family gatherings, inviting each other to holiday festivities, and just having dinner with each others’ families. All of these things were happening with Mark and I. Things were going well. However, there was an unforeseen event about to happen that would shape exactly how our relationship was going to evolve over the next few years.

It was probably at the beginning of 2002, we were called to a Mark-family meeting at his older sister’s house by his dad. I remember sitting there with his sisters, his brother-in-law, both of his parents, and his infant niece when his dad told us the news that his mom had recently had some testing done, and they had found a mass in her brain. This was the beginning of my mother-in-law’s two year battle with Stage 4 cancer in her brain, lungs, and liver. She underwent surgery to remove the mass in her brain, but the cancer was too advanced at the time it was discovered. I will not go into details of her battle with cancer, however events surrounding her illness should have been huge red flags. These are the details that I will focus on when sharing this part of my story.

I loved my mother-in-law and I wish I had more time to get to know her. I also wish I had been able to help her. I wish I had the insight that I have now to be able to support her. This experience is probably one of the reasons that drives me to not only share my story, but to help others be aware of the warnings signs of psychological and narcissistic abuse. Remember earlier when I emphasized that family matters? I had no idea what was about to happen or what I was about to witness in his family.

Once my mother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer, it ignited a series of events that can best be described as dismissed warning signs. I knew the relationship between Mark’s dad and his in-laws was well… non-existent really. I had been told of altercations between Mark’s dad, Chris, by not only Mark, but also by other family members, on both sides of that family. Looking back on some of those stories, maybe I should have paid more attention to the demeanor of the person telling the story. For example, if it was Chris’ brother telling the story, it was in this joking context, almost like he was excusing the behavior. When it was someone on my mother-in-law, Debbie’s, side, the attitude was one of disgust when recalling the same behavior.

Chris had a physical fight on the front lawn with his brother-in-law, he had a verbal argument with his father-in-law, there were the countless rants and arguments in the car to and front events at his in-laws. The list of conflicts was long, that could not be denied. But it was the behaviors that I witnessed first hand that should have had me packing my bags and running as far away from this family as I could. But naive, twenty-two-year-old me, stayed, especially after what Mark did during this time.

We had been talking about getting married. We had been dating for more than three years by this time. I was almost finished with school, he had a good job, owned his own house, and in the best school district. All of the things were falling into place, so marriage seemed like the next step for us. However, with his mom now battling cancer, he did not feel the timing was right. He did not want to set a date as her prognosis was uncertain. It seemed like a reasonable request, and so I was content to wait.

It was probably just shy of the two year mark of Debbie’s diagnosis that Mark did ask me to marry him. The proposal is a story for a later time, but for this chapter, he proposed and we were at his parents’ house within twenty-four hours. He told his mom what he did, and that I had said yes, and made sure that I showed her the ring. She was very weak by this time, but I remember her looking at my left hand and mustering a smile. I was pleased that she was pleased. She knew her son would be taken care of, and he would be okay. Of course we couldn’t set a date. Mark said he would not plan a wedding date not knowing when his mother was going to pass. The thought of her passing right before our wedding was not going to happen. He insisted that we have a summer wedding, and since he had proposed in November, the following summer it was. Thus was the beginning of our near eighteen-month engagement.

Now, getting back to the topic at hand – the interactions and events that occurred during the time Debbie was sick. To say there were signs that I refused to see would be an understatement, but I will slightly defend myself because I was young and I had no idea what I was even observing. First, I had never experienced anyone in my family undergoing major surgery, dealing with a cancer diagnosis, radiation, chemotherapy; all of these procedures were new to me. I was simply doing what everyone else appeared to be doing – “following the doctors’ orders”. After several weeks of planning for her surgery, I remember going to the hospital with Mark, his sisters, both grandmothers, and some aunts and uncles on Chris’ side of the family. I honestly cannot recall if any of Debbie’s siblings were there or not. I just remember going back with Mark to see her after the surgery. It was a short visit, and then we were going home, back to Mark’s house. The surgery had gone well, but visitors were limited so there was no need for us to stay, is what I was told.

Over the next couple of weeks while Debbie recovered in the hospital, Mark had asked me to go sit with her for a couple of hours. He told me that no one else in the family could go, he had to work, his dad was back at work, his younger sister in college, his older sister was now a mom of a newborn, and her family was unavailable. So I did. I emailed a few of my professors, as I was still in college myself, and let them know I would be absent from class due to the situation at hand. They were very understanding, and so I went. I remember thinking to myself yet again, here I am, killing this girlfriend thing. I am filling in to sit with his mother because the rest of his family “doesn’t have time”. That is what he told me at least. Everyone else had things to do, and not once did it occur to me that, well I also had things to do. I had class. I had homework. I had work. I had obligations. But Mark needed me, and so did Debbie, so I went.

When Debbie was released from the hospital and returned home, things went back to normal fairly quickly, other than Debbie needed a lot of home health care, and would continue to need it for the next two years. It was during this time some very concerning behaviors from Chris, started to surface. Chris and Debbie lived in their house that was next door to Chris’ mother. While Chris was at work, Grandma would come and sit with Debbie, take care of her, and keep her company. I am not sure how the conversation was brought up or honestly how I became privy to the information, but eventually I was made aware of what was going on. Mark and I were visiting Debbie one afternoon, Grandma was there and so was Mark’s younger sister. I then overheard her grandma say, “Don’t forget to erase the caller ID”. I said nothing, but as soon as Mark and I were in the car driving back to his house, the question came spewing out. “Why did your grandma remind your sister to erase the caller ID?” Mark told me that his dad was not allowing his mom’s family to visit her. He did not want them calling her. His reasoning was that she needed to rest, they didn’t need to keep her awake with their visits, and the last statement, her family was not allowed in his house.

I remember thinking how awful! This woman was given months to live, had undergone a very invasive surgery, and her own family was not allowed to see her?! Mark must have sensed my horror at this news and followed up by telling me, but his grandma was allowing the family to come over while his dad was at work. She was also allowing them to call while he was at work and his sister had taught her how to erase all of their numbers off of the caller ID on their landline. While I had some solace in knowing her family was getting to see her, I did not feel good about what I had just learned. How could someone do that? How could he dislike his in-laws so much that he would block his wife, a woman he loved, from seeing her mother, her siblings, even her friends? The thoughts raced in my head, and I would feel physically ill. I fought to not put myself in her situation, to not feel the pain she must feel. I watched from the side-lines as this family, refused to confront this man, this horrible, cruel man, and instead danced around his insane demands and control over everything. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But I knew I had no power, no say, in any of what was happening. I wasn’t even “real family” yet. This was how Debbie interacted with her loved ones until the day she passed.

Another scenario that presented itself during this time was between Mark and I. I still lived on campus and at my parents’ house during this time, and Mark owned his own home not very far from my parents’ house. There were nights I stayed at Mark’s and there were nights I stayed at school or at my parents’ house, depending on the time of year and weekdays versus weekends. I mention this because this was probably the beginning of Mark doing to me what his dad had done to Debbie. Mark would call me on some nights, very emotional, very upset. He was alone. His mother was dying and there was no one there to comfort him. He would ask me to stay at his place more often, and so I did. I mean, I could not imagine going through what he was going through – losing my mom at such a young age, I would be a mess, and here he was holding it together pretty well, I thought. He would then make comments about how I should just move in with him, we were going to get married, he loved me, it would be easier, I was staying there several nights anyway, what did it matter. Well, my parents did not want me to move in, but they were understanding and let me be my young-adult self, but I did want to respect them and so I was not moving in with Mark.

Then the middle of the night phone calls started. I was startled awake one night by mom saying that Mark’s older sister was on the phone. Debbie had been taken by ambulance to the hospital and she could not reach him. So in the middle of the night, I drove to Mark’s house, woke him up, and off we raced to the hospital. After sitting for hours in the waiting room, we were told she was stable, but staying a few days so we were to go home. I remember returning to Mark’s house early in the morning, barely passed sunrise, both of us exhausted. Mark would go back to bed. But I was in my junior year of my teaching program, and I had to class, or complete classroom observation hours. If these were not met, I would not graduate on time. At the time, it never occurred to me that Mark, my fiance, was not the least bit concerned about my commitments, nor that he seemed to even consider the stress and strain he demands of always attending with him were putting me through. These middle of the night emergencies occurred at least four more times, his sister calling my parents house, never my cell phone, waking up my parents to wake me up because well, Mark was a heavy sleeper and never woke up to answer his phone, so I needed to drive to his house, wake him up, and tell him that his mom was being rushed to the hospital again. After about this fourth time, I don’t remember officially moving in with Mark, I just remember not going home. A few months later, my parents delivered a large box to me at Mark’s that was most of my belongings that were still at their house. Now, I do not think my parents “kicked me out”, but I know they were not thrilled, but again, let me be my young-adult self, and without much effort, we were now living together.

Debbie passed a little over two years after that family meeting. With funeral arrangements, I remember attending with Mark, but none of her family I remember being there. Maybe her mother was, but I am not certain. The whole thing was a blur to me as I could just not wrap my head around what was happening. My fiancé was distraught, my future father-in-law would not stop complaining about and degrading Debbie’s family. There was a conflict in just about every planning category, down to where the gathering after the funeral would take place – her family was not permitted at his house, and he refused to plan anything at any of their houses. So Mark volunteered his house as a place of common ground. The funeral seating arrangement was an issue, although I do not remember the details of this, I vaguely remember Mark telling me something of it and that was that. Of course this was not the only controlling thing that came from this situation.

I cannot remember exactly when the next incident occurred, I just knew Mark’s two sisters had to conspire with each other to get this task accomplished. Mark’s older sister wanted access to all the family pictures. Chris not only refused, he basically threatened anyone who took anything from his house would have violent consequences. (I will ask the reader to make a mental note on the photo situation – this will resurface later.) Since Mark’s younger sister was still living at home, she had access to all of the photos. So the two sisters worked together to take small piles of photos in increments. His younger sister would take them and pass them off to his older sister, who would then scan each photo to make a copy, and then once that pile was scanned, the pile would be returned and the next pile would be taken. I believe this took place over the course of a year or more, and eventually all of the photos were scanned and copies of the flash drive were made and given to Mark and his younger sister. Copies were also given to some of the extended family members on Debbie’s side so they could have those early pictures of her and her family as well.

Eventually the relationship between Chris and his two daughters became non-existent. Of course Chris claimed it was because Debbie’s family stole the girls away from him. Her family hated him, and they had always spoiled the girls so that they would like their side of the family more than his. Mark’s relationship with his dad during this time grew stronger though. In fact, the relationship with his sisters suffered tremendously. He constantly told me how horrible they were to his dad, and only listened to his mom’s side of the family. They liked her side of the family because they had money, and one aunt and uncle always took his older sister and her family on vacation with them, paid for everything, they bought his sister’s loyalty, and so on. Basically Mark and Chris would make the same statements about Debbie’s side of the family. And I just listened. I obviously didn’t like what I was hearing, but that was their situation. It did not affect me; this I would later realize was a huge misjudgment on my part.

This dynamic with Debbie’s side of the family and Chris’ side of the family continued even after Mark and I were married and divorced. It wasn’t the family members themselves, however. They always seemed to get along when there were family events that did have both sides present. All of the animosity seemed to come from Chris and even Mark. Chris passed away a few years later, but it still continued. Now, now only was Mark constantly making comments about his sisters and Debbie’s side of the family, it was not Chris’ brother, sister, and sister-in-law making comments about Mark’s sisters and their “preference” of Debbie’s family over Chris’. And this occurred over years of family interactions and gatherings.

In the attempt to not drag out the details of this situation, I will summarize it this way. To this day, I still wonder why I was not more attentive to the fact that this man, who was the father of the person I was marrying, was so incapable of putting differences aside, differences to me that were very trivial, and act in the manner that was in the best interests of his dying wife? What kind of person is so selfish that they will hurt their spouse in order to have control over others. What kind of person would continue to stir animosity between people, turning his family against his wife’s family? How could someone tell so many lies and create such conflict chaos and then not seem to care?! Now, I know.

Why did I not think that the behaviors of this man did not and would not have an effect on his children? I was studying psychology and child development in college, so the reason why I refused to see this red flag we will be discussing very soon. I do not, however, think that every child that is raised in this type of environment is going to grow up and become a mirror image of their parent. I do not think every child that is raised in this type of environment learns from the poor behaviors of their parent and will be the complete opposite either. What I do know is that family dynamics and how a person is raised should be very important to know when you begin to date someone. For the person to tell you, “I am not as bad as my parent,” still implies that they know their own behavior is inappropriate. While not all individuals raised in this type of environment become abusive spouses, repeating the same indiscretions as their parent, I feel it is vital that I share these observations from my own experiences and share what I have learned, so others may possibly see and avoid what I permitted to come into my life. While there was never a concrete diagnosis of my father-in-law, there were many conversations with both of my sister-in-laws and Mark that they believed their dad was bipolar, and that is a strong possibility. I also know now that a lot of Chris’ behaviors were also symptoms of borderline personality disorders that lean towards narcissism. It is also known that narcissistic parents can, and usually do, raise future narcissists.