Grad 1984

 

So, it is June 1984. I have just told my husband he is not welcome to return after completion of his summer military training program.

It must have been horrible for him. It was for me too. I was crippled with fear and I had not a soul to tell. The decision was terrrifying. I knew it was the right decision. I had been trying to muster the courage to do so for years. 

I had been a difficult relationship. We were too young. It was for the wrong reason (pregnancy after only weeks of dating). It was frought with emotional trauma. Succinctly put, Wes is a psychopath. He put himself first regardless of the outcomes to others. He was cruel. It wasn't just that he had a mean asshole personality, he intended to be a mean asshole. Things just didn't accidentally happen and people get hurt in the fall out, rather he intentionally hurt people and that included me. The examples though don't belong in this story for this story is about the first joy and acceptance I felt in my entire life. How sorrowful that this did not happen until I was 27 years old.

I was alone that spring and summer but all that people knew was that my husband was away on a military contract. I made the decision with the help of the military and civilian assistance. The Family Resource Center was a wealth of resources. They were entirely unsurprised by the nature of my relationship. I guess Wes had been well known as a hurtful man. He had a reputation for it in fact. The resource centre was able to get me in touch with a military social worker and it was from there that a plan was made for me to get back on my feet. Even though a military man, with me living on base, he had restrictions as to his movements. He had bankrupted me and, without my knowledge, failed to pay his portion of rent and utilities for a year. The social work officer was able to help me with that. I could not tell anyone but I lived rent and utility bill payment free for 6mos in order to pay back that which I owed. 

And that is how I found myself in June 1994, penniless and in fear with two children. I was not in a very good emotional state. I don't remember joy in the months leading up to my ten year reunion. I don't recall doing happy things with or without them. 

My mom seemed to recognise I was down. I could not tell her that I had left my husband. First of all she liked the man. As with everything else, the break up of my marriage would be deemed my own fault. But she did recognise I was alone for whatever reason. She knew about the grad reunion. I must have let it slip even though I had had no thought of going. Between the lack of money and the fear of rekindling past pains simply was no way in hell.

As the end of June neared, she stuffed money in my hand a grabbed my children saying I was not getting them back until after the reunion. And THAT was one of the few gifts - the only in today's memory - she gave me.

I think it was the Kmart at Market Mall that I stopped at to by a few clothes on cheap for the occasion. This is important to note. I had not given myself the freedom to buy myself clothes in years. My then husband did not tolerate my spending money on myself. This was difficult considering the vices he spent money on each month leaving nothing for the household. Even if I had wanted to spend it on myself I couldn't afford it. I had a few civilian office appropriate clothes I rotated out each Friday. But I certainly couldn't show up in the Okanagan the 1st of July wearing them. For $50 I came away from Kmart with 3 days of outfits. The remaining money mom had given me would be enough for gas in the car and off I left.

The whole drive westward I was terrified. I do not have good memories from my youth. But I got their and things were different. I was respected. People apparently like me, they actually enjoyed my presence.

You know who didn't like my presence and fact I got chummy with the popular boys now men? The rish bitchy popular girls. They hadn't changed. But we regular girls had and the boys had. When I drove back home after the three days I did so with a smile on my face. I was accepted. Better than accepted I was liked.

More importantly, I was apparently well liked by Gary Taylor, the biggest catch in my high school class. Gary hadn't dated anyone in high school. As he would quietly tell me as we sat alone for hours talking together, he had been too nervous to. He was aware of his popularity mong the girls but intensely afraid that he would never measure up. I seemed he was as intensely lonely as I was. It was very clear our like for each other was pressing. But we were star crossed. I had just left a relationship, he was just leaving one. The timing was off. How would I explain turning up with a new man in hand given the circumstances of having not yet advise everyone I was single. How would he. He was making his break from his own situation how could he explain the same. But nevertheless, a connection was made, a strong one.

We would never hear from one another after that. We simply said goodbye come the end of the reunion and went our separate ways never to be in contact again. But our instant friendship was noticed by others and not all approved. I'm pretty sure the dance we did together threw the others for a loop. Those rich bitches were clearly upset. Gary had belonged to the same popular VIP group as they had and I was the outsider. I could feel their angry fiery eyes on me, the venom they were spitting. And the other men? We garnered more than one knowing smile.

I cried afterwards tears of various sorts. I cried that we hadn't connected all those years ago. I cried at the wasted year between. I cried because I knew we would never see one another again. I also cried tears of joy because, for the first time in my life, I knew I was a worthy person. Thank you Gary.

I cried with my friend that night as we returned to her home at which I stayed for the three nights. She had seen. She knew. She had suspected about the falling apart of my message. She said she and the other no name girls that weren't part of the ruling class in highs school were cheering me on as Gary and I sat talking that night away. And that dance? It was one of the most electrically charged moment I had ever felt. The only other time I felt this was the pivotal night Peter and I attended the Celtic night at Fionne's.

That night was pivotal. I drove back with the resolve to finish what I had started and not allow my ex to take a foothold in my life again. I was a far stronger person driving back to Saskatchewan.

And apparently he had experienced the same thing. Neither of us knew where the other was and we simply went on with our lives. My friend, and he, had been part of the group that had attended the 2009 (25 year reunion). My friend said he made a point of asking her after me. Where was I? Was I happy? Apparently he had done just what he had said he would. Apparently he returned home and made his separation and then divorce a permanent one. Perhaps he drove home to the Fraser Valley somewhere with the same feeling of being worthy - and happy.

I searched for him afterwards and numerous times since. But such things as social media did not yet exist. In fact, in 1994 the internet was still ground breaking. A sear for his name in Surrey and Vancouver came up with a hundred Gary Taylors.

And that 2009 reunion. I had no idea it was happening. I wouldn;t have gone back yet even to see Gary again for things had changed. I once again had no self worth - and I had memories come to me of something very bad. I was getting memories of being gang raped on grad night.