Wednesday Reflection My daughter Cate is 13. Ive raised her for the most part on my own for the last five years. We started out as an intact family, me, G and Cate. But, over time, things were pretty obvious that staying together was like trying to stuff my size-11 into a size five Louboutin. So, fate and the recession did their thing and her father followed a job to the UAE. Away he went with promises of helping to take care of Cate, visits home, and a life that would be normal as could be. We dropped G off at JFK on an afternoon I cant even remember. It didnt have such an impact that I had to imprint a memory. It was just another day. Honestly, I knew it was coming from the day it all began. The one person who I felt didnt like or know me at all, just happened to be my husband and the father of my child. We had grown to be enemies. Two people sleeping on opposite sides of the IKEA bed. The day we dropped him off was frantic of course. He wasnt good at planning and I am anti enabling, so up until the last hour, he was packing bags to move to the UAE. At the airport we had a short, awkward hug curbside and said our goodbyes. Cate at nine watched her father go away. She cried on the way home for about 20 minutes. The tears were the type of sob that wracked her body in the backseat of the Prius. My heart ached for her, but I knew that Cate and I both knew it was for the best. It had never been easy for her to be caught within the strife of her parents constant warfare. She didnt deserve to fall asleep listening to our bitter and nasty words being traded all around her. She had seen us physically fight as a toddler and years of hateful arguments. I stared at her in the rearview mirror and in her eyes that look like mine, we knew that it was all good. We drove back to Westport in peace. The type that comes only after the hurricane has passed and the relief workers have come in to help. In the years since her father left, Cate has had her moments where the pain was so much that she couldnt hold it anymore. One night several years ago, she howled with grief when she realized that her father wasnt a part of her life and wouldnt be in the same way ever again. She kicked, screamed, and through a decades worth of tantrums she never had that night. I cry now at the memory of watching her consumed with such anguish. It was like watching a wounded animal hurt so much and you cant take away the pain. All you can do is watch. Cate is about to start her final year of middle school. Shes a young woman I adore to my core. Shes happy, has great friends, and I love and like her as a person. We laugh, hug, and find time to be with one another daily. Every day I get to parent her is a joy to experience in a way I didnt know possible. I know what it means to love and be loved in return through her. These days, Cate hasnt much contact with her father and that is her decision. The visits from him back to the US grew further and further apart. The calls that were once on occasion have now ceased. On Christmas and her birthday she waited for him to call. She cried a little, but shrugged her shoulders. Shes not angry, but has resolved that this is his path and story to live. I know shell be okay. Shes navigating this relationship and feeling her way in the world. This is relationship with her father is part of her journey as well as mine and we will forever be intertwined. I reflect on all of this from a place of gratitude. Though these years have been trying mentally, financially, spiritually, and emotionally, they have been the best years yet. Im grateful to G for deciding that this wasnt the life he wanted and moving when he did. Every day of this existence with Cate allows me to witness her growing into this woman who is strong and who will persevere. All I could ever want. JC
Posted on: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 22:51:34 +0000
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