Moment of Truth - Chapter 3

We moved into an apartment in Brentwood in Oct., 1985. The fighting continued even worse. I was in a strange city not knowing anyone. My son was going to stay in NC to finish his school year, but missed me alot, and my parents brought him to me in November. So as my husband travelled, I was busy working and taking my son back and forth to school and to sport events and practices. Every time the phone would ring, my husband to check on me and Craig, it would end in fighting. When he would come home, we would fight. The fighting was so bad that the neighbor who lived underneath us would beat the ceiling with a broomstick. I never believed a word he would tell me. It never added up. He was on the road 255 days a year for almost the entirety of our marriage.



In March, 1985, we bought our house in Nashville. He was on the road when we moved, so my father and brother-in-law drove from NC to Nashville to help me and my son move. I didn't like this house. I missed my home in NC. I missed my family. I missed my life. A few weeks after we moved, I discovered I was pregnant. I was so excited but scared. I did not want to raise another child alone. Craig's father also abused me badly. I left him when Craig was 8 months old. With my husband travelling so much, I knew I would go through the pregnancy alone. Then one day, when I was about 7 months pregnant, my husband came home and told me he wanted a divorce. Just said, "this isn't working for me". I cried. I begged. He left and went back out on the road shortly after this conversation. I remember being outside and mowing the grass. Tears running down my cheeks. I did not know what I was going to do. When my husband came home, we made up. Our son Anthony was due December 26. My husband (actually my ex which I am referring to him as husband because that it what he was at the time, I'm sure anyone who bothers reading this can figure that out), anyway, he was gone that month on a Christmas tour in CA. He flew his mother from CA to TN to stay with me. It was terrible. She told me I was a hard person to live with because she would hear me fighting on the phone with my husband. She also wanted to clean. She had me lay on my bed as she went through my closet throwing out what I didn't want. She had me on the floor below her while she was throwing out things from my attic. I was crying. At the time, I was in labor and did not know it. I remember she actually threw out my remote control to the t.v. by mistake. I found it in one of the throw away boxes. When she was finished in the attic, I went to the bathroom. I thought I was just peeing but it turned out my water had broken. It was 9 a.m. I wanted my husband with me. He said he would fly home when I had the baby. We got to the hospital and I told the doctor to prolong the labor...I wanted my husband with me, not my mother-in-law. It could not be prolonged, he had to speed it up. At the time I did not know why. My son was born at 3:46 p.m. My husband arrived around 10, which is the first time I got to see my son. He was having respiratory problems and was in the incubator.



We came home the next day. My husband left to fly back to CA. My son was 10 days early. He came on December 6. My mother-in-law stayed. My husband came home right before Christmas, and left New Year's Eve.



During this period of our lives, the fighting grew worse. Anthony had the colic. He couldn't stand the crying. After Anthony got older, my husband would joke that Anthony almost cost us to get a divorce. A few times when we would fight, I would take Anthony and run out the door, down the street, and hide in the bushes. I stayed home with Anthony until the year before he started kindergarten. I was miserable. I wanted to work. Anthony did not like daycare. It was difficult.

Before Anthony was born, right after we first moved into our house, we got in a fight. I grabbed my keys and purse and left in my car. I actually got lost and had to call one of the guys in Gary's band to help me find my way back home. I would do that a few times until he would beat me to it. He would take our cordless home phone, (didn't have cell phone then), my keys, my car and purse and leave me alone in my house.

One night after work, my husband was home and wanted to go out to eat. I did not want to. I was tired and felt "ugly". He insisted and had Craig babysit Anthony. At the restaurant, he was his normal charming self. Flirting openly as he always did with the waitress. I was embarrassed. I was hurt. Afterwards, on the drive home, we got into a fight. He was driving down interstate and was hitting me. I was telling him to pull over so I could get out. He wouldn't. I was trying to open the door. It was opening and closing. That's how bad I wanted to get away from him. Finally, blue lights behind us and he pulls over. I take off walking. The officer yells, "stop". I kept going. My husband yells, "Holly, stop, he's got a gun pointing at you". I stopped. I told the officer what had happened. The officer said we could not leave together. One of us had to go to jail. My husband told him he was on probation. The officer said he would go back to prison. So I was arrested. Illegal to walk on interstate. I was held in a holding cell until my husband sent a friend to get me out.

Then, shortly after, I find out that my father has colon cancer. Was given a year to live. All the attention was then focused on my dying father. Yet, the fighting continued. He never comforted me.

A year later, my husband had his mom once again fly to Nashville. This time she stayed with my kids while my husband drove me halfway to NC, where my brother-in-law, met us and took me the rest of the way. He then left on the road. It was horrible watching my father die. Having to change his diapers. He died a week later. My husband came the day of the funeral and took me home right after it was over. His attitude - done, over with, get over it.