“How well you cross a storm of life determines your testimony about it.”― Sunday Adelaja
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Most of you already know my story, but for those who do not, I’d like to share this magnificent testimony. It starts out with a story of betrayal, lies, pain, and suffering that has, with time, found some solace and redemption. A journey of healing.
This is a trilogy of events spanning over four decades, each date in time very significant.
7/11~Today is the first significant date of my testimony. On July 11, 2013, I confronted my now ex-husband about his affair with the waitress from his country club. I discovered that the sorted affair had been going on for many months. He had been coming home drunk after golf, saying he was with his buddies. Then, he went on several weekend “fishing trips” with friends. Once, he even said he had to take some business people to look at factories in Oklahoma, when he was really at the casino with her. He actually had the nerve to call me every night to check in and say what a great time he was having “fishing,” or he’d be late because the guys wanted to have dinner. Really, who does that? Always ending the phone call with, “Love you, bye.”
I had only suspected something “fishy” when I came home from a trip to Chicago to visit family, and found absolute proof. I won’t go into all the details, but the summary is I found his bragging emails to his buddies on his computer, phone logs, hundreds of texts, disgusting photos, and a half empty bottle of viagra. There was so much more that I can’t even mention. You get the picture. So, when he came home that day, from “drinking with the guys,” and two little blue pills were missing from the hidden bottle before he went out, (yes, I counted them) I confronted him when he staggered in the door. I was smart and recorded the conversation. He denied everything, lied right to my face, said I was crazy, and tried to talk his way out of it. Finally, he said she meant nothing. We argued. He went up to the guest room. The next day, he wanted a divorce. Obviously, a call to his girlfriend that night sealed the deal. She wanted him. She could have him!
That was 7/11/2013, a day that will live in infamy. I couldn’t believe it. This from the man who said family was the most important thing in the world. We had been together 43 years, married 38 at the time. Forgive my French, but when a little tramp waitress on the prowl for a new sugar daddy starts her maneuvering, anything can happen. She literally set him up to get caught. She got her wish. I was in such pain, no sleep, I couldn’t eat or think or breathe. All I did was cry, vomit, and cry some more. I ended up in the emergency room. There was no attempt on his part to repair the marriage or the damage. He refused counseling or even discussing reconciliation. He wanted the slutty waitress. Divorce proceedings began. It was messy, ugly, and heartbreaking, at least on my part. He moved out with a couple of things, a few boxes, and left me with 38 years of stuff and memories. It took over a year to sell the house and finalize the divorce. 7/11, was the worse day of my life.
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12/5/1970~ This was a special day, the day we met on a blind date. We were still in high school, and we immediately hit it off, fell in love and were inseparable. Fast forward, 12/5/1974, he proposed on the same day four years later. We always celebrated 12/5 every year. We called it our un-anniversary, always going out to dinner or exchanging cards. It was a very special day. But, in 2013, when that day showed up on the calendar, I cried. I was alone, miserable, and still dealing with trying to sell the house, while he was shacked up with his girlfriend, partying like a teenager, and more.
I had many friends and family members to lean on, but my greatest comfort was my church. As horrible as I felt, I knew God would not abandon me and would take care of me. When I prayed, I didn’t ask for anything special. I just said, “Thank you for your strength.” That was my mantra. It was difficult at first to watch the young families or elderly couples come into church holding hands, children smiling, reverent prayers and hymns filling the air. I often found myself crying, and wiping away tears as I sang. It was almost a year before the tears subsided and the hymns were joyous. 12/5 was still a sad day.
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8/23/1975~ This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life. I married my first and only love, the man that I planned to spend the rest of my life with. When I stood at the altar on that steamy August day, I swore to God and to myself that I would be the best wife ever. We knelt at the altar, we exchanged vows, and both promised to love, honor, and cherish till death do we part. Well, we all know how that turned out. Now, I am able to joke around and say the vows should have been, “Till death do us part, or until something better comes along.”
On 8/23/2013, I went out with a bunch of girlfriends. I requested that he come over to the house and watch his dogs that I was temporarily stuck with. He finally figured out what day it was as I walked out the door. Oh, 8-23. It would have been our 38th wedding anniversary. Instead of dinner with my husband, I was having pizza, and drinking beer with my girlfriends. That lessened the pain a little, but not much. 8/23 was still a sad day.
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NOW FOR THE TESTIMONY: THE TRILOGY OF REDEMPTION
When I told some of my friends how these three dates, the only three painful memories in my life were given a new lease on life, every one of them said, “That is an amazing testimony. You need to share it.” I couldn’t help but think, what are the chances that these three days c ould become happy memories? I believe it was a God thing.
*8-23-2014~ The year between 2013 and 2014 was an agonizing blur. The house finally sold and closed on 8-20. The court date and final divorce decree was 8-21. I closed on my new house 8-22. Everything went like clockwork. I spent weeks packing, purging, and crying. Then, the best part, I moved into my brand new house on 8-23. A brand new house and a brand new start. My youngest son came to help me move. My friends came to visit with food and to offer help. Last year I had a huge anniversary party at my house. It was the anniversary of my new home and my new life. I just may have a party every year. 8/23 is a great day.
*7-11-2015~ The previous year I was busy getting unpacked and settled into my new house, meeting neighbors, trying to adjust to being alone, with all the worries and responsibilities. After the divorce was final and he handed me the papers in the driveway of the home I was forced to leave, I never heard one single word from him, not one. I still haven’t, three years later. How can you say you love someone for 43 years, then not say a single word to them? While we were going through the divorce, he said, “And we can get together sometimes, talk about the boys, maybe have lunch.” When we all went to the Norte Dame game together in October with the boys and friends before the divorce was final, I said, “Well, we’ll never be doing this again!” He questioned what I meant. I said that we wouldn’t be going to football games, or sitting under the Christmas tree, or having Thanksgiving dinners together. He actually said, “Why not?” Seriously, did he say that? He hasn’t spoken to me in three years.
7-11-2015 is a wonderful memory now. My son got married on 7-11-2015. When he told me the date, he said they picked it because 7-11 is a lucky number, like in Vegas when you shoot craps. Those are the lucky numbers. He had no idea that that was the worst day of my life. But guess what? Now, it’s a happy date. A day of celebration. I danced with my son at his wedding, and I cried tears of joy on his shoulder. I danced all night with friends and family. God washed away the tears of sadness and replaced them with tears of joy. 7-11 is a great day.
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12-5-2016~ This was the last painful date that was given a second chance. The trilogy completed. It was Sunday night, 12-4. I hadn’t heard from my son. He calls every Sunday without fail. I finally called him that evening. His wife answered his phone and said they were on their way to the hospital. She wasn’t feeling well, something was wrong. The baby wasn’t due for another two weeks. I had my plane tickets for the 14th, baby due the 18th. I tried not to panic and just asked them to keep me posted if they could. The next morning he called and said they might have to induce and take the baby early. I prayed and prayed. “Please, Lord, let everything be ok.” I didn’t realize what time it was much less what day. I called Mom and some friends and asked for prayers. I called my neighbor and asked her to pray. Trying to console me and divert my worries, she said, “I’m sure everything will be fine. If the baby is born today, her birthday will be December 5th.” She didn’t realize the significance of that day. That’s all I could think about.
A few hours later, my son called and said,”It’s a girl, I’m a dad. Mother and baby are fine.” Those were the most beautiful words I ever heard. I cried. I was a grandma. 12-5 is a great day.
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The trilogy now complete. I have three wonderful days and memories that have erased the painful ones.
This is my testimony. What are the chances that all three of those days would turn out to be so wonderful? What are the chances that a moving day, a wedding, and a baby being born would all happen on that particular day? Not the day before or after, but that exact date. The odds are astronomical.
This is my testimony. Thank you GOD!
Toni Andrukaitis 