Life as I knew it shattered on November 17th, 2024. My husband, Vinnie—my soulmate of 22 years—passed away unexpectedly from a sudden heart attack. At first, I thought it was another seizure, which was semi-normal, as he was epileptic, but then he stopped breathing. When that happened, I was already on the phone with 911 and I did everything I could to save him, but it wasn’t enough. The EMS team worked on him for what felt like an eternity, but there was nothing they could do.
Since that day, I’ve been lost and broken, unsure how to go on without him by my side. Vinnie wasn’t just my partner; he was my everything. The love we shared was rare, so intense and true that I know most people will never experience anything like it in their lifetime. I’m grateful for the time we had, but losing him so suddenly has left me struggling to find a reason to move forward.
Love and Loss:
Vinnie and I met 22 years ago in a dark, dingy little club. He walked up to me with a mischievous smile and asked for a French fry. From that moment, I knew he was the one. It was love at first sight for both of us, and from that night forward, we were inseparable.
He affectionately called me “Bear,” a nickname that always made me smile. Vinnie had a way of making everything brighter for me always- without even any effort. Together, we built a life full of love, trust, and laughter.
He was my rock, my protector, and the love of my life. Losing him feels like losing half of my soul. The giant hole in my heart will never heal. Now, I’m left empty in a world that I don’t want to be in without him.
Unexpected Challenges:
After Vinnie passed away, I couldn’t bear to be alone in the apartment we shared. A friend of ours, Matt—someone Vinnie trusted and approved of—offered to let me stay with him while I tried to cope with my grief. Grateful for the distraction, I agreed.
A few days later, Matt suggested we take a road trip to pick up his teenage daughter for Thanksgiving. It sounded like a good way to clear my head, so I agreed to drive. We brought her back to my apartment, and everything seemed fine. She was a sweet kid, and we spent the next day together, watching Vinnie’s favorite movie, The Crow.
But then, everything fell apart. Loud pounding at the door startled us, and before I could process what was happening, the SWAT team and FBI kicked in the door.
They stormed in, guns drawn, and I was handcuffed and led out of my home, completely confused and terrified.
As I sobbed and apologized to Matt’s daughter, a female officer reassured me, saying, “Sweetie, this isn’t your fault. It has nothing to do with you.”
Eventually, they explained: Matt had kidnapped his daughter and crossed state lines, making it a federal crime. On top of that, there were allegations of sexual assault. I had no idea about any of this. I was just trying to be supportive, completely unaware of what Matt had done. The officers were kind, telling me I wasn’t in trouble and was simply a witness, but the trauma of that day still haunts me.
As if that wasn’t enough, the very next day, my landlord issued an eviction notice. Despite knowing about Vinnie’s passing and my circumstances, the property manager showed no compassion. She lied, claiming she needed approval from a supervisor to lift the eviction, but I later discovered she was the highest authority.
December 26th—Vinnie’s birthday, of course—I was to be completely out of the apartment. The next day, the 27th, was to be a walk-through so they could assess damages if there were any to determine whether I needed to pay more money. I was advised that I could be there if I liked but it wasn't necessary. Instead of them showing up at 10:00 a.m. like they said they would, the landlord called me around 10:15, asking if I was going to be turning in my keys. I hadn't spoken to any attorneys, but I had done a little bit of research online. So I said, "I was advised that I am not required to leave until I am served with a court summons, and can go in front of a judge. The judge must determine the eviction." To this, she didn't sound very happy but she stated, "okay then, I will let my team know and get back to you." Since then, I’ve been living in limbo, waiting for the inevitable knock at the door.
Current Needs:
Right now, I’m struggling to survive and rebuild my life in the wake of everything I’ve endured. The financial challenges are overwhelming, and I desperately need help with:
- Recovering Vinnie’s ashes. His ashes are still at the funeral home because I can’t afford the fees. Not being able to bring him home feels like an open wound that I can’t begin to heal.
- Catching up on rent. I need to stabilize my current situation while preparing for an eventual move.
- Finding a new home. The costs of moving—deposits, rent, and more—are daunting when I don’t even know where I’ll go.
- Legal fees. I need an attorney to help with the eviction and protect what little stability I have left, but the retainer alone is $2,500.
- Registering my car. My car’s license plates are expired, and I can’t afford to get it properly registered.
Every day feels like a fight to survive, but I’m determined to keep going. While being in a world without Vinnie doesn’t seem feasible, I know that I have to keep trying. One day, we will meet again—I know this. A couple of years ago, Vinnie shared a post on my Facebook wall of two skeletons holding hands. It said, “I’ll find you again, wherever we end up next.” So, I will wait for that day with as much patience as I can muster.
I never imagined I’d be in this position, baring my soul and asking for help. But here I am, reaching out to anyone who can lend a hand, a kind word, or even just a moment to hear my story.
While financial contributions would make an incredible difference in helping me regain stability, there are other ways to help, too. Sharing this fundraiser, offering a friendly ear, or reaching out to learn more about my situation means just as much to me. I feel so alone right now, but every act of kindness reminds me that I’m not entirely forgotten.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. Your time and compassion mean more than I can put into words, and knowing that someone cares gives me strength to keep going. Together, we can create a small bit of hope in what feels like a hopeless situation.
Thank you for taking the time to hear my story. It’s hard to put into words how much I’ve lost and how deeply it’s affected me. Vinnie wasn’t just my past—he was my present and my future. There will never be a life that comes close to what we shared, and I don’t know how to move forward in a world without him.
Right now, everything feels dark, and I struggle to find meaning in each day. But knowing that someone is listening, that someone cares enough to read this, means more than I can express.
If you’d like to reach out, I’d love to connect. I’m not just looking for financial help—I’m looking for understanding, friendship, and support during this incredibly lonely time. Thank you for being here, and for considering helping me through this journey. My email is jenncombest21@gmail.com and once you reach me through there, I will possibly give you my phone number to speak more.
In case you are feeling generous, my cash tag is, $jcombest73 and my PayPal is, jcombest73.2@gmail.com and my Venmo is, @Jennifer-Lynn-8. I've been unsuccessful at making a PayPal.me link, I know that is the advised and recommended way to accept donations on here so if I can eventually get it to work for me, I will update and add it.
