Comment Te Dire Adieu
I no longer worry about complaining when services or products don’t meet their promised standards. I am no longer reluctant to make a fool out of myself; people can think what they like, as long as those who love me think I’m generally an okay person I’m happy. I no longer have sleepless nights ahead of visiting the dentist. I know it will be uncomfortable and unpleasant but age has taught me that there is no use worrying about it. This too will pass.
As I say, with time and age, so it is that some things get easier.
When my ex-wife and I split up it was quite simply a very difficult time. A relationship failing is a tough thing to admit to.
Moving away from my kids though was on a different level of toughness. The first few months I felt a pain I had never previously experienced. A physical part of me was missing. I knew it and felt it with every breath I took. It was extremely raw.
It was right that the kids stayed with their Mum. They were settled at school in the area and no matter what had failed between she and I, she’s a great Mum.
To make matters worse I had no choice but to leave the area. The small rural community the kids had grown up in offered no prospect of work for me and was too close-knit for my ex and I to be able to move on.
The downside was that, from the point my marriage failed, my time with the kids has been reduced massively.
The kids and I have all worked hard to stay close, and we have succeeded. Despite not spending as much time together as any of us would like we (and in some ways, perhaps because of it) we are all much closer than kids and their Dad have any right to be.
I’m incredibly proud of the funny, compassionate and strong young adults they have become. They are some of my favourite people on this earth to spend time with.
The challenge of going through divorce as a Dad was that there very little support offered for the pain of suddenly no longer having my kids with me all of the time. Looking back I went through similar symptoms and phases of recovery to a bereavement; just without the same levels of support and understanding from society.
The expected behaviour of the divorced Dad is to make jokes about new found freedom and the promise of a new, much younger, partner. The reality is a cycle of pain and the rebuilding of identity and self esteem.
In reality my own pain had to be suppressed to ensure that I could still function as a good Dad when I had the kids with me, to help my kids deal with their own emotions from the divorce and to ensure I could continue to work and provide for them. It was only when the kids were back on an even keel and I met my new partner that I was finally in a position to work through this pain and find the amazing life I’m now blessed with.
Part of this new life is the very precious holidays I spend with the kids. Our most recent two weeks together is an example in point. We have laughed until our sides hurt and built memories together that will fuel me for years to come.
After these two amazing weeks the day has now come for me to drop my kids to the airport for their flight back to their Mum. I simply cannot describe how tough this is.
I go through the same process every time I do this. A few days before I start to feel physically sick. A pain deep in my stomach will form that can only be described as dread. I’ll take every opportunity to hold them both, tell them I love them, explain how important they are to me, try to make them understand that I think about them every minute of every day when we are apart.
On the day itself I take them to the airport. Feeling so sick I could vomit, if only I could breathe. We check into the flight. I buy them coffee and a cake. I want to enjoy and draw out every second with them.
Then we walk to departures and say our goodbyes. Its always jolly and loving. Those last hugs are the most precious things my arms can ever do. Every fibre of my being tells my body to hold them tight and never ever let go.
Then they walk through the gate to catch their flight. One last big happy wave. I’m amazed at how grown up they both now look (how did that happen) but at the same time, no matter what age they reach they will always be my babies in my mind. I see the child within them both and feel no older than one myself.
I go back to my car and I cry. I cry a lot that day.
My wife is amazing. She knows to give me space to let the kids go again. She knows that for a few days I’ll be awful to live with. Withdrawn, obsessed with any distraction I can find. I love her for that.
There are some things in life that get easier with time. Saying goodbye to my kids isn’t one of them.
If anything it gets more difficult each time I do it. I’m just learning to see this pain as a measure of how close we are and to accept it as a part of loving these amazing young people. I then count down until I get to see them again.
Four weeks and counting.
Comments
Post a Comment