The small room was filling up on this very warm, and humid July South Florida morning. Old friends and family from New York had arrived at Palm Beach International Airport on the same flight without knowing they were heading to the same destination.
The backroom saw the family standing by Maddie Gibbs, draped in black and for the first time in her younger son’s memory, with no jewelry.
As the Rabbi looked on, he lifted his head and said, “It’s time.”
The family slowly walked towards the front row and sat on the pristine, shiny bench with the Rabbi standing on the bimah looking at the chapel and reciting Psalm 23.
As Dean stood, reciting the prayer with the rest of the congregation, he looked to the left of the Rabbi and saw the pine box, the traditional Jewish casket he had identified moments earlier. His father, the strongest influence in his life was to be buried nine days after the birth of his son.
Yet, Dean was not feeling the loss that others were feeling. He was not looking at his mother knowing he had to be strong for her. He was not looking around at his parent’s friends and relatives, people who had been integral in his life understanding when one of their friends passed away, it reflected their own mortality, leaving each with the thought they could be next.
He was not looking at his nieces and nephews who loved their grandfather. How, at such young ages, can they understand what today represents?
He was not thinking about his son who would never know such a wonderful and generous man and never see him cheer him on at school plays, music recitals, or sporting events.
He allowed his mind to escape to the lunches his father asked him to attend since he was old enough to drink. Two Bloody Mary’s and Dean’s problems were solved.
During the first, and his father’s first scotch on the rocks, he learned of his sister’s issues and how much money his older brother had asked to borrow. The second round saw William Gibbs’s interest turn to his third child.
“So tell me about you? You married yet?”
“The former? Job issues making me nuts. The latter? I’ll let you know. Nothing on the horizon.”
“You’re a bum. “
Dean asked his father why he was pushing him on marriage, learning that the line, “You’re a bum,” came from an old Sinatra movie. His father loved the movies.
“Son, I’m not getting any younger and neither are you.”
He loved those lunches with his father and was going to miss them, but sometimes the advice came at a price.
“I married a woman because HE was running out of time. Not a great move. I really must start thinking about an end game.”
He was looking at his wife of one year. It was another struggle. Another day he was told, “You always make things about you. Stop making this about you.”
No feeling for him. No concern of what he may or may not be facing. Guilt. Frustration. Loss leading to that part of you that dies inside when a loved one is no longer in your life.
He married a narcissist. Narcissists do nothing but create a vortex of drama that leads life into a cesspool. He never loved her. His mother introduced them during his father’s early diagnosis of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. After two dates, he wanted to move on.
His father insisted they go out again. After the third date, Dean explained that it was not a good match.
“Nonsense,” he was told. “Bring her to the house for Friday night dinner.”
As instructed, he invited her. She had been pushing to meet his family since their first date and was ready to marry him before they ever met.
Dinner was a match made in heaven for his parents and what he assumed to be the wife of their choice.
They loved her. She brought flowers, homemade cookies and a smile. She made it her business to hold their son’s hand every time someone looked at her and to ask questions about all six of their grandchildren.
Prior to leaving, his father asked if she would like to meet them at the club next week for dinner. Dean was uncomfortable, but she was in love…with his parents.
As the weeks went on, she met his friends and the rest of the family. They witnessed her grandiose sense of self-importance, the sense of entitlement, and her need for constant praise and admiration.
He tried to explain his unhappiness to his father but was told he was afraid of marriage and at 35 years old it was time. Time for him to start a family. “I want more grandchildren before I die.”
Dean was uncomfortable the way she demeaned, intimidated, bullied, and belittled his friends and family when they were alone.
His parents etched the foundation of guilt in concrete. He lost friends and his family was sliding further and further away. His sister insisted she was not a good fit for him.
After explaining to his new girlfriend that either she makes some changes, or they needed to break up, she smiled. “We are never breaking up. If we do or if you bring it up again, I will drive to your parents’ house and explain what a horrific person you are. I am the most important person in your life. Not your sister. Not your friends. Me.”
And that was it. His father insisted Dean buy an engagement ring and instructed him when to propose. The engagement would be short, and the wedding would be beautiful.
He loved his family and friends, but the more she stayed with him, the less they saw of him.
He was aware his life was changing, and she was the cause. He was unaware there was a name for the abuse he was living. She was a true narcissist, and he could not break free for fear of hurting his father.
His father watched her smile as she placed his son on a pedestal while dropping off homemade soup to their house.
His parents never saw the other side. The side that he saw all too frequently. She would engage in insidious, manipulative abuse by giving subtle hints and comments that resulted in Dean questioning his own behavior and thoughts. She never took responsibility for relationship difficulties and exhibited no feelings of remorse.
Her jealousy was causing him constant pain. It was a different jealousy than he was used to. She was jealous of his friends, his family, and his job.
She met her supply when she interrupted his calls or spoke negatively of his mother and sister. The “Narc” forced him to take a stand against his sister, whom she believed was too close to Dean, forcing a family division that could never be corrected.
The division continued with his friends, his brother, and two jobs.
Yet here he was. Sitting in a chapel in fear of his next move. Could he stand up to his wife? Could he tell her it was not about him but about his mother? Would his fear of the narcissistic abuse relegate him into a bigger coward than he had already become?
How could he allow her to destroy everything he had worked so hard to accomplish? Now that he was a father, could he just walk away? Would he decimate his father’s memory by leaving her?
“How can I leave? We just had a baby. I have to stay.”
Dean Gibbs remained with the narcissist. Over the course of the next 19 years, she alienated him from his family and friends. She cost him multiple jobs and finally threw him out with nothing but the clothes on his back.
She alienated him from his two sons and ostracized him from his neighbors as she spoke about the abuse, he caused their family.
The narcissist was a game player, and she would not shy away from brinksmanship either, and until she saw that clearly, he was pretty much toast. When an honest and caring person like Dean Gibbs went up against someone more than willing to lie, happy to manipulate, and, at the end of the day, didn’t care about him, he never stood a chance.