The end is the beginning is the end....
Sometimes, you are so filled with words and emotions that you don't know how to express them fully. My daughter is leaving this week for college, and the feelings I have range from pride, to fear, to happiness, to sorrow.
Every parent expects their child to leave the nest someday. From the first day of kindergarten, when they look back and wave and don't need you to walk them in anymore, to the day they have their first sleepover at a friends house, to the day they drive off alone; these are all things we try to prepare for.
What we can't prepare for, what we can't ever expect, is that the relationship between a parent and a child can fracture so badly that it seems irreparable. When you have children, your instinct should be to protect them, to nurture them and to guide them. However, sometimes that just isn't the case.
I have two amazing children. I love them more than I ever thought it was possible to love another human being. At the time they were conceived, I loved their father. I thought we would grow old together. Watch our children marry. Be grandparents together. But life choices and experiences on both of our parts made that impossible. I don't grieve the loss of my marriage. I quite honestly should have never married in the first place. I was 20 years old, missing my Marine boyfriend, and we married for all of the wrong reasons.
What I do grieve is the relationship that my children should have had with their father but they don't. I grieve for the little girl who thought her daddy hung the stars and the moon. The little girl who used to ask to go with him everywhere. Who used to ride on his shoulders and hang out with him at work. I grieve for the loss of her innocence. I grieve for the fact that a gift that she should have been able to give to the man she loves at the time of her choosing was taken from her. I grieve for the walls she's built up to keep people out. The mistrust of people. The fact that she has an aversion to being touched unless she's the one initiating it. I grieve for fact that she's become so jaded in so many ways; forced to grow up well before her time.
I grieve for my son; who idolized his father. Who would sit and wait for hours for him to come and pick him up; and he would never show. Who used to refuse to let me take him get his hair cut; because that was the only time he got one on one time with his father. Who had to come to me and ask me questions about the lifestyle choices his father made; and watch him process the fact that his father was unfaithful and will continue to be probably for the rest of his life.
In the beginning, all I wanted to do is rage against my situation. Beat my fists and cry. I was so angry I wanted nothing but revenge. Now, I feel more pity than anything else. I pity the fact that I have these two amazing children that I have been blessed enough to raise. I pity the fact that their father missed every parent teacher conference, every performance, every field trip and every birthday for the last 4 years. I pity the fact that he didn't get to see my beautiful daughter walk across the stage and graduate high school with honors; and that he won't be one of the dads that is dropping off his baby girl to college.
These are all memories that I have that are worth more than money. They are worth more than anything. Nobody can ever take those away from me. And no matter what, I will always know that my children will associate me with home. No matter how far away they move. No matter who they marry. I will always be home. And for that; I am grateful. Because the struggles that we faced and the challenges we have overcome have made us stronger than I would have ever imagined.
Every parent expects their child to leave the nest someday. From the first day of kindergarten, when they look back and wave and don't need you to walk them in anymore, to the day they have their first sleepover at a friends house, to the day they drive off alone; these are all things we try to prepare for.
What we can't prepare for, what we can't ever expect, is that the relationship between a parent and a child can fracture so badly that it seems irreparable. When you have children, your instinct should be to protect them, to nurture them and to guide them. However, sometimes that just isn't the case.
I have two amazing children. I love them more than I ever thought it was possible to love another human being. At the time they were conceived, I loved their father. I thought we would grow old together. Watch our children marry. Be grandparents together. But life choices and experiences on both of our parts made that impossible. I don't grieve the loss of my marriage. I quite honestly should have never married in the first place. I was 20 years old, missing my Marine boyfriend, and we married for all of the wrong reasons.
What I do grieve is the relationship that my children should have had with their father but they don't. I grieve for the little girl who thought her daddy hung the stars and the moon. The little girl who used to ask to go with him everywhere. Who used to ride on his shoulders and hang out with him at work. I grieve for the loss of her innocence. I grieve for the fact that a gift that she should have been able to give to the man she loves at the time of her choosing was taken from her. I grieve for the walls she's built up to keep people out. The mistrust of people. The fact that she has an aversion to being touched unless she's the one initiating it. I grieve for fact that she's become so jaded in so many ways; forced to grow up well before her time.
I grieve for my son; who idolized his father. Who would sit and wait for hours for him to come and pick him up; and he would never show. Who used to refuse to let me take him get his hair cut; because that was the only time he got one on one time with his father. Who had to come to me and ask me questions about the lifestyle choices his father made; and watch him process the fact that his father was unfaithful and will continue to be probably for the rest of his life.
In the beginning, all I wanted to do is rage against my situation. Beat my fists and cry. I was so angry I wanted nothing but revenge. Now, I feel more pity than anything else. I pity the fact that I have these two amazing children that I have been blessed enough to raise. I pity the fact that their father missed every parent teacher conference, every performance, every field trip and every birthday for the last 4 years. I pity the fact that he didn't get to see my beautiful daughter walk across the stage and graduate high school with honors; and that he won't be one of the dads that is dropping off his baby girl to college.
These are all memories that I have that are worth more than money. They are worth more than anything. Nobody can ever take those away from me. And no matter what, I will always know that my children will associate me with home. No matter how far away they move. No matter who they marry. I will always be home. And for that; I am grateful. Because the struggles that we faced and the challenges we have overcome have made us stronger than I would have ever imagined.
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