Logan’s last year of pre-school was a difficult one. Everyday at the end of the day if I wasn’t there to pick him up, he would sob. It didn’t matter that Phil was still alive at this time and would be the one getting him, no, Logan needed his mom. Sometimes I would be able to get him if my schedule allowed and if I drove like a crazy person to get back to town from the capital city. It was a hard year for us both and ultimately made me come to conclusion that I was needed at home more than I was needed at a job an hour away.
This was when my resentment for Phil truly began to build. He was healthy enough to work and cleared to do so by his doctor, but he never really tried to get the kind of job that could make me dial back on the 16 hours days that I had been doing for years. It had been a deal that we had made early on, that once I got us into our forever house, I would be able to dial back on the crazy work hours and focus more on the kids. Only, it never happened and then the summer before he died, he lost the okay-ish job that he had found over a stupid fight about a cup. I remember when the call came in that he was fired as we stood in the driveway, having just gotten back from the lake with the kids. Phil was very good at name calling and put downs when he was mad, but I believe if you love someone you don’t talk to them like that even when they hurt you or are mad at them. Words can do more damage than you think.
After he got off the phone with his old job, I looked at him full of rage and disappointment as this was the first summer I had taken off and had completely trusted him with the house. “What is wrong with you? You have absolutely fucked us, I hope that you know that.”
He looked at me like I had said the worst thing known to man and he walked away to call his friends to complain about how I spoke to him and how he was so hurt. I wanted to hit him. I didn’t, but that was one of the times in our marriage where I thought about the satisfaction of punching him in the face would feel like. By the next morning, I was delivering groceries and trying to scrape together any money that I could get my hands on to get us through until I was paid in September.
By August, I was thankful for the job offer that came in which meant that I was going to be able to pick Logan up from school. I felt like I could breathe again until my old job said that even though I was resigning in August that I was going to be held for 60 days as per my teaching contract. At first, I was rage-filled about it, but looking back I can see the hand of God in that. I was able to go back to work and pack up my things, I got my first full paycheck and then the next morning, I woke up to my husband collapsing and dying at my feet, but because I had been held to 60 days, I now was able to use all of my personal time and be written out for the rest of my holding period. I never went back to the classroom that I had managed for over 10 years.
And then I arrived shell-shocked and traumatized to my new job. I remember the briskness of the day that I arrived and having to sit in front of my new supervisor and tell her what had happened, asking what paperwork I had to redo since I was no longer married. I was in front of new people, new work and out in the world for the first time in three weeks since our tragedy had found us. I remember how the fuzziness of the world around me seemed to dwindle and for the first time since that Saturday morning, I was looking forward to life again.
It is almost poetic in a sense that I am now leaving that job for something new and have had a summer of grief and turmoil leading up to it. During my time here, I started to date, I fell in love, I thought I had a future with someone, got my heart broken, had to give away my dogs, had multiple surprises with cars and my house and somehow, made it through it. And next week, I will be sitting at New Teacher Orientation learning about what the next chapter of my life is going to be. Maybe it’s the hand of God again, maybe it’s the end of a cycle—either way I am hopeful today as I am trusting in the magic of new beginnings.
Katherine Kuzma-Beck 
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