It is truly defeating to see the spirit of a child break. Hope is abundant in them and they are always willing to look forward with it filling their hearts. I could always appreciate the brutal honesty and wonderment of a child. To say that I have enjoyed the journey of raising my boys would be an understatement. I love kids. They are amazing.
I am constantly working on myself and taking an inventory of all our happenings, in hopes that I can fine tune and better the version of Mom that I am giving them. I want to be the person that opens doors for them and makes opportunities. I want to guide rather than control and empower them to be the best versions of themselves every day. All the goodness in my life is wrapped up in the gleam of their eyes and I am the luckiest woman in the world when I think of it like that.
Sure there are ups and down. Beating yourself up, I think just seems to come with the territory. I obsess if I am doing enough or making the right decisions for their future. I plan, skimp, save and sacrifice my sleep and sanity. I cheer when I'm sick, when I'm tired and even when they are driving me crazy. I smile and make pancakes, because somebody has got to do it! Honestly, I wouldn't have it be anyone but me. I love them an immeasurable amount.
That's all normal right? What am I getting at you ask?
I know that I am not the only person that feels like this about their child and I know that it is the right way to feel. I am so lost to how people can NOT feel this for their children. How they can place themselves above them and hurt them without regard. Watching that light leave your child's eyes is so criminal... but then I guess you didn't have to see it did you?
I wished sometimes that I was never with their father. I mean what in the hell was I thinking? Surely it must have been one of those moments where there is a higher purpose at play. I had to suffer him to have them - it's how I know that they are destined for greatness.
He was 4 years my junior, but I wouldn't learn that until later. He was friends with my cousin, whom at the time I was really close with. He was shiftless and lazy, but I worked like crazy and kept odd hours and he was around. I could have walked away from him a million times; but I was in a dark place and didn't really care much about a lot of things. We were already separated when I found out that I was pregnant with my oldest son. I didn't even want to tell him. I kicked myself a million times over for having done that; but if I hadn't - I wouldn't have my youngest son.
The kids were very small when I finally ended things for good. I was buried beneath the mountain of debt spawned from his addictions and ready to cut my losses. I think he was pissed that I didn't just out right fail. That I didn't need him and no matter how bad things were that I was a survivor and would never come crawling back to him. He's tried many times since then to find a way into my life and in the midst of rejection his offers of agenda based kindness turn into something for him to turn the tables and throw in my face. Isn't funny how people remember things to suit them sometimes? He definitely has a selective memory.
I have tried over the last 15 years to make reasonable opportunities for him with the children. I have hosted numerous events and allowed consistent invasions of my privacy and resources in an attempt to foster a positive parent relationship with him and the children. He eats my food, invites his family and manipulates every avenue that he can. He has stolen from my home, ran my bills up and demanded rewards for spending time with his children. Nothing is ever good enough and if I protest I am subject to his verbal abuse and ridicule.
He has taken recently to calling regularly on Sundays ( only since Christmas). These calls were supposed to be before 6pm and he often waits until 8 or 9pm to finally call. I think it's because he wants to make me look like the villain and the best way to do that is to call late so that I refuse the call and then he can play the victim and say that I am denying him his children.
Tuesday my oldest son turned 14. It was a big day for him and he had a lot of high hopes. I had been saving for months just to buy him the shoes that he wanted. He opted to stay home from school and we went to lunch together and out to buy the shoes that he wanted. He had thought that he would hear from his father seeing as his younger brother had reminded him on the Sunday prior that his brothers birthday was on Tuesday. It was nearly 9pm and the children were headed to bed when the phone rang. I showed it to my son and he said no. He was on his way to bed and felt very upset that he waited all day to call. His father protested and blamed me for his lack of preparedness, so when I let him know the next day was a snow day - my sons hopes were raised again. No call. More excuses. In fact the whole week passed and there was no call... until Sunday evening...late... and he spent almost 40 minutes talking to my youngest son and although his brothers birthday was mentioned several times he ended the call without so much as a happy birthday.
We called back.
Like a petty insolent child he blamed everyone but himself and literally told my son that it was his own fault that he didn't celebrate his birthday. Can you imagine? It must be terrible holding all that contempt for everyone else to simply shift blame from yourself. He did a bunch of screaming and name calling... and just like that he sealed his own fate. He lost them. He lost his ability to be anything to them. Love for a child should not have conditions. It should not cause pain. There has been 14 years of suffering... it's bittersweet.
No comments:
Post a Comment