I understand how much bullshit you have to put up with day in and day out and know how painful it is to constantly give of yourself as if you're a single parent and not have your sacrifices appreciated by the partner who should cherish you.
I get it.
You rock, you know that?
I love you. Give yourself a hug.
He doesn't deserve you.
Mother's Day was bittersweet for me.
As the day started, I sat on the couch with my morning cup of coffee. D walked out of the garage, past me on the couch, and into the kitchen. He didn't look at me or acknowledge me in any way whatsoever. A few minutes later, I walked into the kitchen to refill my coffee. D was in the doorway and moved to the side so I could pass. He avoided eye contact. Actually, he avoided looking directly at me altogether. As I fixed up my coffee, he disappeared into the garage.
The rest of the day was wonderful. The kids and I went to church, out to lunch, went to an outdoor store where my delicate flower of a child showed me some white water rafting gear they were saving up to buy. This kid had been on a few outings with a friend's family and has fallen madly in love with the sport. It was so much fun to see them all excited about this. I rarely get to see this kid so excited about something, and my normally quiet and reserved child talked up a storm about technical details with the clerk. While there, we learned the store is hiring, so excited kid grabbed an application. I'm clueless about rivers and rafting, so excited kid showed me around the store, explained items and accessories, and shared their love for this adrenaline-pumping sport with me. As we walked out of the store, excited kid said,
"Mom, I can't wait to take you to the river tours up in the mountains so we can go rafting together."
Hearing that was one of the best Mother's Day gifts I've ever received.
After we got home, rafting kid pulled up a bunch of rafting videos and showed me more about the sport. I get it now. Now I can't wait to go rafting this summer.
We had had a huge late lunch, so suppertime came and went and nobody was hungry. I puttered around the house, sorting stuff to donate and packing up stuff I'm keeping - I want to be ready to move out the second I get a job offer. While I was moving stuff around, my mom called. She lives out of state and announced that she's coming up to visit for a week in June. Yay!
At about 9pm I heard some banging in the kitchen.
"Is everything ok?" I called out to the kids.
"Yeah, it's dad in the kitchen. He's mad."
"Why? What's his deal?" I asked.
"He asked if anyone had made dinner yet. We said no, and he got mad."
"Oh. So he's cooking something as loud as he can?"
"Yeah. And sulking. He can cry more."
Ah, the wisdom of kids who clearly see that dad does not treat mom with respect, and certainly does not treat her with love.
(I do try to be respectful of him when talking about him to/in front of the kids. No matter how much I'm hurting or feeling dead inside, these are my feelings, not the kids'. I need to remain as neutral as possible because I don't want to poison their own feelings for their dad.)
After about 15 minutes, D hollered, "Food!"
I walked into the kitchen to see what he had been up to. There was a plate of cooked hamburger patties on the counter. D had already taken his food into the garage. I didn't see him for the rest of the night.
This morning I was up early. Made coffee, checked email, started applying to more job openings, and D came through the dining room.
He brightly greeted me with "Good morning!"
"Uh huh," I responded.
Psychopath.
He looked at my computer screen and commented on what I was reading, asked about the paperwork on the desk next to me, chatted about the pets, the sunshine, the birds chirping outside, his car, last night's sports...
Asshole.
I ignored him as much as possible.
I'm done.
If he can't acknowledge my existence on Mother's Day, then I don't see any reason to acknowledge his existence today or any other day.
No comments:
Post a Comment