For those of you who know me, you are aware that I had three beautiful sons. I lost two of them. Tyson, angel that he was, died in 2000 from melanoma, a lethal form of skin cancer. He was only 23. He was graduating from Laurier University with majors in physics, computers and math. His whole life was ahead of him but a thief took him in the night.
Damon was 35 when he drowned at his father's wedding in 2011. He was a Major in the airforce with a brilliant career ahead of him. Damon was the rock of Gibraltar, the salt of the earth. He fell madly in love with Tyson's nurse, Carla, whom he met at the hospital where his brother lay dying. She was pretty and seductive. She was smart and with her career, she was a perfect fit with him, because, in the air force, he would be moving from time to time. He was emotionally vulnerable and she was ripe to start a family. He was hopelessly in love. This was the girl of his dreams. Or so he thought.
They were married for 9 years and had three children. Damon carried on like a true soldier as his personal life unravelled around him. We could see it from the outside, but he was in denial, denial to accept his true love didn't love him truly any more. He gave up everything for her including a career in flying. He belaboured that she had to put up with his working in Kingston, a two hour drive away, amongst other 'hardships'. I beseeched him, "But who's taking care of you?" The question fell on deaf ears as he unselfishly continued on the path that was to lead to his personal devastation.
If Damon were the kind of person who could accept failure, this wouldn't have been so completely devastating. When he could no longer hide from the lack of love she had for him, he agreed to separate. This meant to him, loss of his family as a unit, loss of the promise of everlasting love, the loss of being a father, the loss of his home, the loss of his kids growing up in a family. It meant total failure. He was destroyed. I think his job must have given him a reason for living and he trucked on, alone, living in a basement apartment near the base, visiting his kids in their life apart, on the weekends.
As his parents, Don and I felt his wounds more deeply than he.
Carla had a male 'friend', and even as just a friend, he caused Damon much pain and untold suffering. We all did our best, Carla, Damon, Don and myself, but it turned out everyone's best was the best for no one. Damon wasn't cold in his grave when this 'friend' moved into Damon's side of the bed.
After 6 months, Damon had barely found his new love when fate intervened. Why is telling you about Damon's life important? Because of the impact Carla's character plays in my life. She was the wife of my son. Never being accepted by her was as shocking as it was painful. It was like I lost the daughter I never had. She is also the gatekeeper to my grandchildren. Since she didn't care for me, she meted out the time I could see them. I feel she has committed the worst kind of theft, the theft of a relationship between a grandmother and her grandchildren. They know who I am but they don't know me. We just didn't have enough time together, just the way she likes it.
This has been an arduous adjustment for me. As you can imagine, life with out my boys is enough of a trial. It would be such a blessing to be able to be a wonderful grandmother to my three grandchildren. It would feed my soul. However, I have to learn to live with it just as I have to learn to live without Damon and Tyson.
But then this is not about Damon or Tyson, This is about me. I am writing these memories for my three grandchildren and for my son Brandon.
