Don’t call us, we’ll call you

October 5, 2008

17 July–My second family member interview

Filed under: Jail study — Tags: , — llcall @ 5:03 pm

This is the first family member interview I’m conducting in which I also interviewed the man in jail. I really like her right from the start. She is a straight-talking, congenial person with a great Midwestern accent. She’s just plain funny. She starts out letting us know that it is over between her and her estranged husband, the man in jail. She says it matter-of-factly, there is no question about it. I already knew from his interview that they had separated before he came to jail, and he said it was mainly because of his alcoholism. She tells the same story…that he’s a destructive monster when he drinks and it’s time to end it completely.

Although she prefaces the interview with the fact that their relationship is completely over and she does not care what happens to him anymore, some of the first questions in the interview begin to paint a different picture.

I feel guilty when I get out of the house to do something enjoyable while [MAN] is in jail…

I feel it will be difficult if not impossible to carve out my own life as long as [MAN] needs my help…

I feel incapable of establishing new friendships right now…

These first three questions are easy for her. Of course, she doesn’t feel guilty when she gets out of the house; they haven’t lived together for a year. She has her own life. She is always ready to make new friends. But as we get to the next questions, her answers become considerably less decisive.

I feel I cannot go anywhere without first thinking about [MAN]’s needs…

Sometimes I’m not sure where [MAN] fits in as part of the family…

I often feel mixed up about how much I should be doing for [MAN]…

I put [MAN]’s needs before my own…

She struggles to answer, and occasionally interjects statements like, “Whoever wrote these questions was good. That’s a good question.” When thinking about how he fits into the family, she breaks down in tears. She explains that if it were just about her, it would be simple. But the grandkids (children of her biological daughter, his stepdaughter) adore him, they miss him, they ask about him. How can she cut off that tie?

This acknowledgement seems to open the floodgates. And as she continues to answer our questions, it’s clear the situation is not as cut and dry and she first said. She tells us, almost pleadingly, if he would just stop drinking, things would be okay. He is such a wonderful man when he’s sober. She explains that she has never been unfaithful to him, never even so much as looked at another man. She tells us of how they first met; she sounds happy and peaceful for a moment. A new wave of tears begins as she tells us that all she ever wanted was to have a good, lifelong marriage. She shrugs and gestures, as if indicating, Look how far I am from that.

We’re nearly done now, but she keeps winding off topic as she thinks about him. She asks if we have met him, and I acknowledge that I have. She asks me, “What did you think?” She sounds hopeful that I will have good things to say about him—she seems so far away from the person we started interviewing who had written him off forever and didn’t care about him. I explain that my interview with him was very pleasant, and she begins to tell us again how charming he is, how sweet when he is not drinking.

I’m heartbroken for her as we leave. It’s clear she still loves him, despite all he’s done to her. It’s clear her initial language and demeanor are defense mechanisms to save her from continued torment. It’s clear nothing will ever be simple or uncomplicated in this situation. It’s clear she would do ANYTHING to get him to stop drinking and using drugs, so that they could have a nice, normal life. In fact, she has done many things already. Managed his money once they separated, taken him to AA and NA meetings, helped him get a job, hired an attorney now that he’s in jail. Part of this is to protect her house, which he is still a part owner of despite the fact that she says she paid for all of it. But we can tell, too, that she desperately wants him to change so that he can be a husband, father, and grandfather again.

So although she first says that it is not difficult to carve out a life on her own, her later words belie that statement, while simultaneously revealing the devastating impact of alcoholism, drug abuse, and incarceration on families. Collateral damage, indeed.

7 Comments »

  1. How sad!

    Comment by Vickie Blanchard — October 5, 2008 @ 6:08 pm

  2. Keep blogging, Linds! -holly

    Comment by holly — October 5, 2008 @ 8:47 pm

  3. Linds-love your writing skill and this is an adventure!

    Comment by helenwho — October 5, 2008 @ 10:29 pm

  4. I loved this. Keep writing!!!

    Comment by bookncurls — October 6, 2008 @ 3:55 am

  5. Thank you for taking the time to share your work. I feel so sad for this family. Wickedness never was happiness…and unhappiness spills over to other family members. It is terrible when bad choices affect so many others.

    Comment by Sharon — October 6, 2008 @ 5:43 am

  6. [...] been thinking about that second family member interview I wrote about here and how that’s exactly what she was dealing with…an ambiguous loss in which she could [...]

    Pingback by Ambiguous loss « Don’t call us, we’ll call you — December 18, 2008 @ 7:50 pm

  7. [...] 25, 2009 · No Comments I wrote about my second family member interview here and here and here.  If you had asked me during the summer which interviewee would have the [...]

    Pingback by Limits of our loyalty « Don’t call us, we’ll call you — January 25, 2009 @ 11:08 pm


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