October 28: The Night She Snapped.

I remember the night of October 28, 2006 like it happened yesterday. No matter how many brain cells have been microwaved since then I can picture it vividly. Have I forgiven and moved on? Most likely but I don’t think an October 28 will ever pass without the memory flooding back.

Earlier that year I had asked for a divorce from the childrens mother. Twenty blogs worth of crap went on between the initial separation and that late October night but this was the Rolls Royce of crap events. The kids stayed with me and she had gone back up north at the end of the summer. This was all prior to any real court litigation between the two of us.

I didn’t even realize she was in town that night. The kids, who would have been a respective 7 year old Jeremy and 3 year old Lex and Linds, were fast asleep as was I. I woke to repeated doorbell pushes and wraps on the door. The time was 2 something in the am so technically this happened October 29 but whatever. I stumbled downstairs, put the light on outside and looked out the front door. No one there. I went to the back door and popped on the light. It was apparently burnt out so I cracked the door open just a smidge and the perpetrator pushed their way inside. It was a piss drunk soon-to-be ex-wife.

She took off her shoes and started slurring about how much she missed me. She asked to use the phone and she’d push a button then forgot what she was doing. The alcohol was just burning out of her every pore. After a couple minutes of this I told her she needs to go. She could barely walk so I walked her towards the door. I remember opening it, throwing her shoes on the step and then I cautiously walked/guided/pushed her out the door then locked it.

I proceeded to turn the kitchen lights off and made my way to the stairs leading back up to bed. I took a couple steps up then SMASH!! I stopped in my tracks. SMASH! And then again! I was a deer in the headlights, completely frozen up. It registered to me that she was breaking all the windows in the kitchen but I was just frozen.

In retrospect, I wish after that first hit I would have thrown on my shoes and called 911 then tackled her before she did any more damage. But that’s not how it went down, at least until a bit later.

With me still on the stairs she took to the side window in the living room. SMASH! At that point I remember climbing the stairs to check on the kids. Thank God they were all still sound asleep. SMASH!! She was at the big front window with many panes. Then it was silent and the cold night air began creeping in. I recall standing by the front door when I finally called 911. Right after the call was placed I look outside to see her at my vehicle, smashing the back window.. with my snow shovel! She had done it all with a snow shovel.

At this point I was present enough to take her down until the cops arrived and that’s exactly what I did. She swung the shovel at me, I ducked then tackled her and pulled her to the ground hard. I remember her swearing and biting at me and thrashing and calling me racist things, as though I was holding down a hellbent demon fighting for its life. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep her subdued.

Meanwhile, I look up and there are pretty much every neighbor within a blocks radius staring at the scene. And then four police cars pulled up, lights and sirens blaring. I rolled off of her and they took her into custody.

The whole thing was so surreal, I think that’s why it haunts me to this day. The fact that not only did that happen but that the kids slept through it. My other fear when all was said and done in trying to go back to sleep about 5 am or so was that what if one of them goes downstairs before I wake up first? Luckily they came in my room first. But can you imagine? Winters air flowing in and broken glass everywhere?

We were blessed that night as we are tonight. Our enemies have missions to carry out against us but we live to fight another day. I bear this alone; this event is something at least my girls have no memory of, only from hearing me tell the story. My son probably remembers but its not like we reminisce over it. Scars like this remain to remind us how good we have it. And that nothing, even raving terror like that, will never get us down.

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