• Jeth Weinrich


Updated: Sep 26, 2021

I wrote all these words after I ran into the girl who I thought was the love of my life after a disaster of a situation that broke her heart first I imagine, and was a part of me thinking I was doing some good by making a film about a very dangerous world i had discovered and got in way over my head with. My sister tells me that this day was 17 years ago. To me it often feels like not even a year ago. Evidence I guess that time is irrelevant in a God given Universe.

I wrote this at ground zero of a time when I found myself at the mercy of an unfathomable dependency on a powerful little substance and at an age when one might think it impossible for such a story to unfold. But it did unfold and I had come to the place to have to face the reality of it, and come clean and reach out for help, or live in a kind of death dance I would wish on no one. .

So seven years in on a relationship that I figured we were lifers, and would always be together, I went to her and laid it out in the open. I was terrified, uncertain what lay ahead, but did the thing every one says is the first step. reaching out for help.

What I didn´t know at the time was that she and my future ex business partner, he paid for the trip with my credit cards, had taken the love of my life to Vancouver where he helped her to get an apartment so she could settle in and study landscape architecture at Simon Fraser. He knew that by doing that he would essentially be sticking the blade one final and mortal time into my heart to end me pretty much. For sure that was his only intention. She I don´t think thought much about it either way. That´s what happens when addiction pushes people to their fringes, either the addict or the co-dependent partner who feeds off it, at some point the music stops and someone won´t have a chair to sit in.

Im not going to say I don´t blame her, because I do blame her for doing what she did, she was as guilty for lying and betraying me as the night gets dark. You cannot justify any action with, ya well, they lied to, and still walk some noble road. I don´t blame her though for giving up on me. You can´t blame someone for that.

I say that but when I do I always remember seeing the country singer Allan Jackson on the Oprah show with his wife. And Oprah asked his wife, so when Allan was out on the road and the news came back of women and drugs and drinking you knew all that, it must have hurt, why didn´t you leave?

´Because´ She said, ´love is not 50:50 like everyone says, love sometimes is 100-0.

And when I said I do, I did.¨ Allan Jackson was blessed beyond most people´s comprehension. But if you like any Allan Jackson song write to his wife and thank her.

If all this story was, after this last paragraph, was all this story had to offer, I´d just fold the cover shut and not read anymore. Because it might only sound like someone who wrote it is bitter and angry, can´t let go of the past, or it´s another what it took for me to rise out of my addiction stories, and well, enough already, or maybe even worse it sounds like they want the person they are writing about to feel suffering still, to hurt them back, so they understand the hurt of that betrayal that day.

I know there are people who are saying, ya but you gotta own what you did and the poor girl did what she had to. I own what I did, because it owned me that day, that because of what Im telling you next led to me having everything I owned embezzled out from under me, with twenty Calgary police officers lining my drive way like an honor guard, and me, all alone in the world, for real, because not one friend, not person in my family, no one showed up that day to my 2.5 million dollar mansion, to walk with me down that drive way. Where I was ordered to never come within 100 yards of that house again.

It was the single most greatest day of my life because, and I´ve told this before, and I´ll tell it again, because on the street at the end of my drive way, with seven dollars in my pocket, I realized that for the first time in my life I was truly all alone.

Even my mother, who later in a book she wrote, wrote on the last pages, for every mother who has a son lost to addiction, don´t ever give up because I did and then my son showed he who he was coming back stronger than when he had left. He showed me the power of his faith in God which I had tried to teach him, only to abandon mine in the face of my sorrow and have come and teach me what faith really is. I didn´t get to read that until after my mom had passed away. .

Unfortunately this where the story gets way worse, way more dark. And in that darkness is maybe where the story finds it´s truth worth sharing and reading about. I have removed names to protect the guilty, accept my name, I am Jeth Weinrich, guilty as charged.

So, on a day that the intensity has never totally repeated itself and I´ve had gnarly bad days since that particular day, a five year old girl who Jackson and I came to treasure, and was to be the actress in a video I was about to shoot, was accidentally murdered, drowned in a swimming pool by her moms boy friend just a few days before our shoot. Life is truly gnarly.

So on that day that I asked the girl to help me, the two closest friends to both my mom and my sister and I, I even called Claire my cousin, they came to take me out for lunch. When they arrived I was deeply focused and in the conversation with the girl who already had made up her mind, done the act of betraying me and had justified it. It was my fault that she had become fork tongued and deceitful.

She knew all this but still just stood there while my cousin and her mom asked me out for lunch and she didn´t say a word, like, no go, we can finish this talk later. So instead of going for lunch I indulged this girl who had no intentions coming with me to Spain for three months where I could keep my head straight, and her there to help me, to which I had added, and if that fails I will go to any rehab place in the world she and my mom could send me.

So instead of giving up my time so that I could give it to two people who deserved it, who I deserved to have given it to, instead she decided it better that she let me waste that afternoon on her pretending that she agreed and was going to go to Spain with me when in reality in six days she was moving to Vancouver..

So on the day that I reached out for her to help me, my cousin and aunt came to take me to lunch but I declined and off they left to go their own way.

I´ll never forget the look on Claire´s my cousin´s face the way she shook her head like what is going on with you. I´ll never forget that look on her face. It´s the last thing I ever saw of her.

About an hour and a half later we got the call. Claire and her mother had both had been killed in a horrible August car accident on Deerfoot Trail in Calgary. Because i didn´t go for lunch they and their two dogs were killed along with a woman in a van they hit. She was pregnant.

It´s a very intense place to be when all the air gets sucked right out of the sky and the percussion of the reality you have just heard has jolted you from the reality you exist in or thought you did.

I went off, totally just lost my mind with shock and grief, I remember putting my fist through the boards on my moms picket fence until I couldn´t punch another board, and all the while the girl just watched. I remember it clearly because I was on my hands and knees sobbing and drooling nose drooling too, and I looked over and I saw her shoes, because she was standing next to me, close enough to touch me. I didn´t realize that her heartbreak had turned her long before through the journey of hating me, to now, total apathy towards me, where she didn´t do anything but stand there watching me..

She did though take that opportunity to break up with me, you could say, officially, after I pulled myself together.

There I was trapped in some loop of total fucked up ness. Did she not get the brutal tragedy that had just knocked all of us right off our feet. Or did I not get the brutal tragedy of how whatever dreams of who I was and who we were to her had let her down and now she was someone who had to live with her choices within that. I don´t know. I remember just walking away sobbing up my mothers street and the last words I said to her were, where did you go, and she with no emotion she said to me back, ´no where did you go´.

I know where I went next, to a crack house two blocks away, and for the next two days I just got totally fucked up and no one saw me until the day of the funeral when a drug dealer drove me to the church.

i showed up because I had promised Claire that if she died before me I would go way out of my way to embarrass her at her funeral. That´s the total truth. That is the only reason I showed up.

So, a few days removed from my seven year relationship finally cork screwing into the ground, after two days that I don´t remember a detail of, I got up on a stage and walked to the microphone, took it in my hand and I said, ´Hiii. Im Hunze From the Cherman mens gay chatline. I just vant to say zat I met claire on zee chat line which was hilaaarious because well it was only us Gay Chermans and this lovely canadian girl, Claire.

Ya hanze was a recurring character who used to call the chiropractors office Claire worked in praying that her boss would answer and then i would go heeeeloo Dr vaneirght its hanz from ze cherman mens gay chat line is claire free´. And she would answer always laughing, ´are you fucking crazy´. she would say.

Ya i just remember the look on my sisters and my moms face looking up at me in total disbelief as i pranced around the stage in front of Claire and her mothers caskets.

The look on my sisters face was enough to suggest I could move on, perhaps not embarrassing Claire, but for sure embarrassing my mom and my sister, so I got it together and pulled off a pretty emotional love filled thank you and good bye to two of the most beautiful people my family were ever friends with. People came up and thanked me and hugged me and I was even mentioned in the Calgary Herald for a very moving and interesting last words to two very loved people. That church had a thousand people in it.

The lousy thing was that I had been waiting to tell Claire that I was going to offer her the position of being vice president of my company because she was the only person I trusted in the world at that moment, especially in the light of that evil business partner who using my addiction against me embezzled millions of dollars out from under me, which i still had yet to discover the total dastardly details of it all, and with some evil little laugh had taken my girlfriend to vancouver behind my back to help her get an apartment to go to landscape architecture school, to push the daggers deep into my chest.

Maybe all that will be another blog. Or maybe another rant.

So now cut to years later, many years later, and a year or more removed from the day my mother had died, and I get a phone call from the girl to ask me if I might be so kind as to meet her for coffee.

I had seen her once since the week my cousin and aunt had been killed, which was easily ten years or more now, and that was at my mother´s funeral. That day she had turned her back on me, in anger even, her crying away, pushing me away even as I approached to give her a hug. Her reason. ´I was angry at you for how treated your mom´.

I could feel my mom turning in her grave at that. I know my mom enough to know she would have been out right pissed right fucking off at someone doing that to her son at her funeral.

My mom though would also have expected me to go for coffee with the girl as well. So I did, and she talk away she did, and crying all the while too, saying that she felt this huge amount of guilt because after I left Calgary, after the two casket funeral, to Montauk NY where I rehabbed for five years and slowly claimed my life back, in that time she got married to a totally controlling abusive guy who forbid her from being friends with my mom, which kind a hurt my mom a little, enough that my mom had brought it to me concerned and asked me why I thought the girl would have done such a thing.

I told my mom the story that day at how I had not gone for coffee and had I gone Claire and her mom would still be alive. I also told my mom that for weeks before the accident I kept having this recurring dream that I was on my back looking up and out the front broken windshield of a car, and it was a bright and hot sunny day. It was so disturbing that I didnt get in a car for those few weeks as well. My mom told me that she had been having the exact same dream as well all the way up to the day of the accident.

So ya, I was by now, sober, moved on, even doing ok over my mom´s passing away, who on the day my mom died, I had the longest emotional tear filled talk with, where my mom told me not to stress about anything to do with her, that she couldn´t have been more proud of me for the person I was, for what I went up against and who come out the other side.

Cut to Starbucks, and the girl looks at me, and she says, ´Can I ask you a question?´ í´m sure I said ok, and so then she asks me if I thought my mom would in the after life or in heaven or wherever she is or was, whatever, that did I think my mom would still be angry and hurt by what she had done when she ditched my mom at the command of her abusive husband. I thought for a long second and then I said, ´Ya you think? Maybe? Of course she´s pissed off. Would´t you be. Im sure she´s sitting up there next to God right now as a matter of fact going who the fuck does this girl think she is. You have a spare lightening bolt I can borrow. Time to shock some ever loving sense into her.´

I´m kidding totally i didn´t say that at all. Instead I said, no, my mom loved you and she understood what you were going through. Don´t sweat it. It´s all good´.

Truth was it all came tumbling down and around me at the moment, every feeling and hurt, and every emotion, and everything that ever led me down one road, that tried to end me on another, and i was reeling a thousand emotions and all together I didnt know what to feel.

So I went back to my hotel room and with my dog Jackson looking at me while I paced around and talking to myself the whole while, and cursing and all that, so dramatic I was that he decided to go hide under the bed.

I was so freaking upset and filled with something that was like, I am done apologizing for my life, or for what everyone feels. And thus, i just vented out these words and scribbled them on a piece of paper. and i think I typed them out later and put them in a facebook post.

Now cut to a few months later and KJ who I had known awhile and who had been friends with my mom for like 15 years, who my mom really liked KJ, always felt she understood the suffering in his heart and knew he was good in that heart of his too, anyway, KJ says, Jeth, check this out, I edited and created a spoken word piece to what you wrote and posted it.

I was like what, because for me that rant was my testament to all the lousy and great things my life had led me to and into and around and whatever and that my life for the good and the bad for the heartbreak but for every triumph as well, and mostly to the faith in God my life had led me to, that my life had exceeded my dreams. I thought it was interestingly written and all that, But I didn´t really want someone to make a film out of it.

Anyway I hit play and watched it.

I couldn´t talk for an hour after, just sat there staring off, and then i called KJ and was like wtf KJ this is really really good. Like this fucking super awesome, but one for always making things better, I added, maybe just clean up one line or two that you stepped on but fuck it, its super powerful´. I still chuckle at that part.

So to be clear, my part in this very cool film was just me venting for half an hour over a spoiled little girlfriend and the life we made together that spiraled into a total disaster that was the direct product of every shallow choice both her and I made, but it was KJ McCusker who put the genius into it and made it a cool film

Amen Evidence of God which is the title of a movie we want to make together, act in and he would direct, about two unlikely mafia hitman and their friend ship, one a total bible thumping Christian and him a full on card carrying first nations Cree Warrior shaman.

So KJ helped me put a book end maybe on stuff that had haunted me too long. And when or if you watch it you´ll now know the 20 years of life lived, and broken, and found, and lost, the miles of sorrow, and the joys too, that had to happen for it to be made.

So now I think this story was worth the words typed on it and the time for you to read it and for sure the time for you watch KJ McCusker´s film called ´Gyspy of the Open Road´.

27 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All