I will forever have to accept the fact that as long as Kevin is alive, he will continue to try to quiet me and our children-who are now 21, 19, 17 and 15. “Not until they are 18” is a distant statement that holds no ground anymore. I know everything I need to know. I know all of the happenings and lies that were told after I was absent. I know about all the manipulations and threats that if any of our kids spoke my name or tried to contact me…there would be consequences. Today-the kids are ready to speak. I know about the harassment to others that are associated with me and I have apologized to them for the hate ensued by the people that want me to be silent. So, having said that-I am re-focusing on my story and will continue to heal my soul by speaking out loud.
Let’s return to Fayetteville NC. We had just moved from Fort Leavenworth Kansas and are getting ready to settle in our new home in Fayetteville. This was the year of 2004.
We moved in and 3 days later, Kevin returned to Fort Leavenworth to finish Cass Cube. Once again, the children and I were relieved that he was not home. We had the entire summer to ourselves without having to walk on eggshells around Kevin.
It was odd not living on post, but our home on Hamersley Road had a pool and a lot of kids in the neighborhood. The children and I stayed pretty busy unpacking things and getting familiar with our new town. Their schools were only a bus ride away and because I had worked at Gold’s Gym in the past, I got a discount at the Gold’s Gym nearby. We settled in nicely and when Kevin arrived, the entire home was unpacked and we were ready to begin…AGAIN.
Kevin and I both knew that at the end of the year of 2004, he was going to deploy. I was prepared for that transition. During the summer of 2004, I received a phone call from my mom. I could hear fear in her voice as she proceeded to tell me that a lump was found in her breast and that it was cancerous. The doctors were going to have to do further test to determine what next step to take. Being that there was no history of breast cancer in our family, this came as quite a shock. I had called my siblings and we all decided that we were going to do research on our own to try to help my mom through this.
Let me take a step back here for a moment. Since Kevin and I were a military family, I made it a commitment to call my family and HIS once a week being that we averaged seeing our families once a year. I called my mom and Becky(Kevin’s mother) once a week and our conversations lasted a least an hour. I was close to my siblings and close to Kelly(Kevin’s sister) and Brian(Kevin’s brother). I was the one who reminded Kevin of his families anniversaries, birthdays, ect. It was a real effort for me to help him engage with his family in the same manner as I engaged with my family. Kevin had always told me that he felt closer to my parents than his own. Kevin shared with me that he was NEVER close to his father nor mother and my impression was that his parents were very judgmental and prejudice of people…especially African Americans. It frustrated him being that he served with awesome men and woman of all different races. I was not raised prejudice so my beliefs ran off onto Kevin. Kevin felt more at ease with my family because there was no judgment of him and my parent’s home was a lot more laid back. My children felt the same. So, having said that, let me go back to my current thought.
I had contacted the Landers side of the family to inform them of my mother’s cancer and had asked them to pass along her story to their church. I knew prayers would be powerful. I had shared with Kelly my fears and she gave me John’s work number. She told me to call him because he worked with doctors all the time and could maybe help find the best care for my mother. I did call John, and him and I had long conversations about my mom. My mother’s cancer was progressing and chemo was the next step. John gave me lots of information that I passed on to my family and friends. I had contacted a few of the doctors John directed me too and it was very helpful to understand what my mom was going to have to face. John was nothing more than a medical resource that was trying to help because I asked him to. This moment in time-was the most I had ever talked to John in my 18 year marriage to Kevin.
As fall came, the children had started school and my mom was getting ready to face the chemo. Kevin was learning the ropes on Fort Bragg and I was holding down the fort at home. It was a hectic, scary time. I was more distracted these days with the possible thought of losing my mom and the changes that we were getting ready to face. It was starting to become exhausting. I was emotionally and physically tired. I was not sleeping well as my mind would not let me sleep. I would re-run in my mind the fear my father had in his voice over his wife-my mother. I could feel the sadness from my mother’s heart as she faced the possibility that she may never watch her grand-children grow up. I laid in bed at night with Kevin snoring next to me, re-evaluating my whole life and my marriage to him. With the possibility that my mother may not survive the cancer, my thoughts became graphic and upsetting. I started thinking about me as a wife…me as a mom…me as a lost woman in the hands of a man that really did not love me. I was his cook, his housekeeper, his daycare provider, his whore, his property…but I was not his wife. I was not the love of his life nor did he treat me much better than he treated our dog-Bell. For a long time, I thought Kevin needed me, desired me…would be lost without me, but for the first time in the eve of my mother facing the biggest battle of her life-To Kevin-I was another piece of property like his tools, his motorcycle, his new truck…his material things. I was a piece of material to him-a non-feeling, non- breathing thing that he could control and knock around if I did not exist the way he wanted me too. He could just throw me a way like a piece of garbage, and rest assured, he would dig me back out of the trash when he was ready to play nice. My illness was that I sat patiently in that shit until he was ready to acknowledge my existence because he needed something from me. He did not miss me when he left. He would not miss me when he deployed. He ONLY missed the control he had over me when he was in my face. I started to feel a loneliness I had never felt before. There was an emptiness of the idea that I gave my entire body and soul to one man who was disgusted with my existence. I started to ask myself WHY was I holding on so tight and for so long to a man that could really care less if I lived or died. You can replace a housekeeper, a daycare provider, a cook, a whore, and yes-even a wife. But there is no replacement for the eternal love of a soul mate like my mother was to my father. I was a soul mate to no one. I was 37 and I had wasted almost half a life away on to a man that I called husband. A life that was filled with more punches and kicks, than hugs and kisses. I had a life that was filled with more lies and betrayal than love or commitment. I shared 4 beautiful, wonderful children with him, but he did not treasure them along with me. All 5 of us(me and the kids) were trophies he would pull out when it made his image look good, but behind closed doors…when the “show’ was over…he locked all of us away and closed the blinds to the outside so the world would not see the truly, ugly reflection of Kevin.
I had started to become depressed on the inside but painted a pretty good picture on the outside…or so I thought.
John and I were still talking about my mother and my family, but John started to sense there was something more going on with me. Over the years, John would inquire about a bruise I had on my face or arm and I would lie to him. One time in one of our visits to Georgia, John inquired more than usual and I looked at him and told him to mind his own business. After that-John did not ask about markings on me again for awhile. But, in one of our conversations, he had asked me about how I was doing. Up to this point-I NEVER talked about me to most people. I would distract conversations to Kevin’s career or the children in fear that maybe someone would read my mind. But John was different. He had testified concerning the origin of bruises of persons in court for years. He had a strong intuition that I was not doing well and it ran deeper than my mother’s cancer. For the first time to anyone before-I felt safe talking to John. I knew he would not share my secrets to anyone and little by little, I started to heal by talking secretly to John about my abuses by Kevin. Once I started sharing pieces of my hidden world , I started to feel more alive and free. Once I started, I could not stop. It was like a leak in a damn that slowly started to crack open and then the waters came rushing out. I cried, and yelled and laughed and understood more than I had ever before. John was my confidant and he had started to become more than a brother-in-law. He became one of the best friends I had ever had. A friend that would not betray me, hurt me and accepted me regardless of my flaws. John and I usually talked in the early morning of the hours because neither of us could sleep. John discussed my issues with Kevin and offered an all expenses paid retreat to address me and Kevin’s differences. John was not a threat, because he wanted me and Kevin to be ok. John did care about both of us. I remember in November 2004 how John took Kevin to the FLA/GA cocktail party in Jacksonville and discussed Kevin’s infidelities. Kevin confirmed his infidelities to John, but at this time denied ever being physically abusive to me. As I started to look for marital advice, John was quick to share with me that he and Kelly had a marriage” on the rocks” and suggested that I seek professional help for my marriage. Over time-John started to open up to me about his relationship with his wife. I was not prepared for the things he shared with me as I always viewed John and his wife as the ‘perfect couple.”
It has been said over and over by Kevin and Kelly that John and I have been together for years. Being that I saw Kevin’s family once a year and John was NEVER home-this can be proven a lie. There are phone records that show that in 2004-2005, John and I did talk A LOT on the phone but it was nothing more than two people, worlds away, trying to understand two people that came from the same parents-Kevin and Kelly. It was shocking how much Kevin and Kelly were alike but, being that they were raised by the same parents-everything started to make sense. All the abuses, the words, the controls, the hates came from the same source. John and I had something in common-The “Landers” mentality and how they treat others. So much time and so many words started to make so much sense to me for the first time in my life. I had decided to open up my soul and speak it out loud. 18 years of staying quiet to protect the one man I thought would have done the same for me. 18 years of taking the punches and the blows. Listening to hateful words and viewing actions from my abuser hoping that I could change him by trying to love him more. 18 years of bottling things up inside my mind to protect a human being that did not view me as one. Kevin-my husband-had treated me like shit, treated my kids like shit, and for the first time-I used my voice OUTLOUD!!! I felt empowered. I felt truly emotionally strong and untouchable in the wee hours of the mornings talking to John and my soul was alive! John had helped me “wake-up” and face my demons. I felt safe knowing that someone on the outside finally knew my secret world with Kevin. On the flip side-someone-John-knew my secrets and now I had to face them. I was terrified so I started to back away not sure of how I was going to handle my openness with someone- a family member.
Thanksgiving had come, and we spent it with my sister in Virginia. Kevin in a rare occasion, showed his anger. The men were watching football, and me and my sisters had just cleaned up the kitchen and sat at the dining table. In all good fun, we started throwing peanut shells at our husbands because they had watched non-stop football. My sister’s husbands complied in funny pursuit by getting into a “peanut shell” war, but Kevin got very angry and started whipping peanut shells in me and my sister’s faces. He was hurting us and my brother-in-law Jeff had to intervene to stop him. I was so embarrassed as my brother in laws were having fun. Kevin was out of control. I became very sad and distant after that. A part of me hoped that my family could see how he was with me most of the time. I was not sure if they saw what I lived and I was too embarrassed to say anything. No one said anything-and I did not say a word to Kevin about his antics. So, once again….I felt like a fool…a weak soul…embarrassed to protect my husband from his erratic behavior. Even my brother-in-laws took notice and kind of stepped away from him. I started to feel embarrassed and isolated.
My mind raced every single day on how and when I was going to leave Kevin. I did not want my family to suspect anything so I remained distant from all of them. Christmas 2004 was a good one for the kids…but I still worked hard to try to reason with Kevin. I really wanted a sign he would give me to change my thoughts of leaving him, but he gave me no hope in his behavior. He was preparing to leave and I struggled with telling him that I wanted a divorce. I struggled because of the fear of his reaction. I kept holding on for a sign from God…and then I got one. It was a cool evening in late December and there was one action that he did to my oldest son that sealed my fate. God gave me a sign and it was not a positive one…Kevin, the father of our children, went after his oldest son. Kevin had never physically abused our children and as much as he tries to tell lies about me-he never physically hurt our children to my knowledge, but, this particular night-I feared for my oldest son’s life and I knew what I had to do to stop all of this insanity. By Kevin leaving, I knew he could not hurt me with fists…or manipulate me with words. In his deployment- I still hoped for one last sign…I kept holding on for a hope that we could work this out. Once again…I got a message and it was very clear-
“How many years can some people exist before they’re allowed to be free…”– Bob DylanFor me, Catherine, it was 18 years...
Stay with me-
REST…REGROUP…RETURN…
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