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Truths that pictures tell

I do not usually post things like this but it's been on my mind off and on.  The fact that I feel that I cannot be honest on my own blog because it's not nice or proper or might hurt someone's feelings.  I already guard my posts on FB and Insta just to be sure I do not harm anyone's delicate littler feelers.
But I decided after getting bored enough to scroll TikTok that if people can make videos of what ever ails them, I can certainly post to a blog that nobody reads.

I was married before.  It lasted from 1990 to 2009.  I was 18 when we got married and he was 38.  He had two little boys that he had full custody of; we did not have children of our own.  It started off all well and good, and full of hope but it did not stay that way.  It was not a good marriage.  Or at least the last 10 years of it was not.  I know now, that for at least the last seven years of it my former spouse was cheating.  Before that he was just a controlling narcissistic bully.  I will call him Tim, Tim Skipper.  His name.  I protected him enough while I was married; I do not have to any more.

Let us fast forward through years of bullshit to 2007.  Tim and I had bought a second home in Honduras.  Tim, as a son of missionaries, grew up in Honduras and wanted to retire there.  The home was on a lake and it would enable us to retire together, supposedly.  We had gone to Honduras together in June, our usual time, and despite taking preventative medication I contracted both Malaria and Dengue Fever.  To say I was miserable and very ill would be a huge understatement.

I was scheduled to fly home alone, with Tim following two weeks behind so he could "close up the house".   I did not want to fly home alone.  I begged him to come with me.  He being passive aggressive turned it into me asking him to spend an enormous amount of money to change his ticket so being the good wife, I relented.  I mean really, if I didn't give in, then I was just wrong.  He would quote some ill cited bible verse that it is better to live in the mountains than live with a nagging woman.

So I board the plane in San Pedro Sula.  The flight attendant stops me to ask me if I am ok.  I lie through my teeth that I am just dizzy and "giggle maybe I'm pregnant".  I was terrified that if anyone knew how ill I was with a communicable disease they would not let me enter the U.S.  My ears were ringing from the large doses of Tylenol and Ibuprofen.  I landed in Miami, went in the bathroom, took my temperature, 102.  Dosed up more and trudged through customs.

When I finally arrived in Portland and got into the doctor she gave me two choices: go immediately to the hospital or agree to come to the office every morning and a phone call with her every evening.  With the added agreement that at any time, if I deteriorated I would call 911.  The health department began their required interview and contact tracing.  It was a mess.  I WAS ALONE.

I called Tim in Honduras.  A woman answered the cell phone, I hung up.  He called back minutes later with some story about someone else answering his phone by mistake.  I knew what was up, but he just kept telling me I was imagining it.  Or that maybe I needed to "up my depression medication".  I again begged him to come home.  He did not

He finally flew home two weeks later.  And a few days after that I found an email of him talking to a friend that he needed "sopa de viagra" to keep up with his amore.  That started the painful and abusive end to our marriage.  It was filled with his begging for forgiveness, promises, lies, manipulations..blah blah blah.

Why does this matter now.  Oh well because now, Tim is a missionary.  Now Tim quotes the Bible, only in the KJV translation because that is the only "true translation". Because didn't you know that Jesus spoke old English (sarcasm). Tim and his "amore" Carolina, his wife now, are very devout Christians.  They spread the gospel by going out to eat and posting on Facebook.  And one of those pictures he posted this last week

He and his love at the beach in 2007, while his wife was home, ill.  But look at the picture.  I mean look at it.  Does she look happy?

I know the ride she is on.  She is Tim's fourth wife.  She has grabbed onto someone who can provide for her with his police pension and home bought by his parents.  But her ride is bumpy.  Now she has to walk the line.  The line that if you cross you are "sinful".  I don't know how it feels to go from being a mistress to being the wife.  Can you ever really trust?  Not my problem, nor is it my shame, it's his and hers.  

To me this picture is justice.  


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