To My Son: You Will Never Doubt You Are Loved
Sitting Alone at Midnight: A Late-Night Movie, Unhealed Wounds, and Being a Parent
I watched a movie tonight that was incredibly cute, but by the time the credits rolled, I was sitting alone in the dark at almost midnight crying my eyes out.
It was a good movie—a cute one, even—but it pulled up some deep, heavy feelings I wasn’t entirely prepared for.
In the film, a mother was fighting with everything she had just to prove she was worthy of even meeting her child. Meanwhile, the child's father had simply walked away years ago and never looked back. Watching that unfold hit me right in the chest, leaving me with a question that constantly haunts the back of my mind:
How can the father of two children just walk away and want absolutely nothing to do with them ever again?
The Weight on My Kids
It makes me wonder what all of this will mean for my children as they grow up.
My daughter’s stance is already clear—she basically sent him a firm "fuck you" email the exact day she turned 18. But what about our son? He was only four months old when everything fell apart (and don't worry, I will tell that story later).
Someday, he is going to have big, complex feelings about all of this. How do I help him navigate that when the time comes? His feelings will be completely valid, but knowing how to guide him through a void created by someone else is terrifying.
I truly cannot fathom never speaking to my children again.
I can't imagine not asking how their day was.
I can't imagine not checking in on their jobs, hearing about who they love, or listening to their latest adventures.
I can't imagine choosing to miss out on their lives.
My ultimate joy comes from watching their joy. I love doing the small, everyday things because I know those quiet moments make a massive impact. They are amazing human beings, and missing out on knowing them is a loss I can't even comprehend.
To My Son
To my son: I am so deeply sorry that your biological father did not feel this way.
I am sorry he chose to play the victim for eternity rather than step up and be a dad. My deepest hope is that the man I married—who loves every single one of us as his very own—will be more than enough to fill that empty space.
I know you will have questions someday. That's natural. But my promise to you is that even if you question why he left, you will never, ever feel like you missed out on being loved.
For those of you in blended families or who grew up with a step-parent who stepped up: how did you navigate those hard conversations with your kids as they got older?
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