I call them my children because I am here with them and I love them, more than they will know for a long time to come. They were created in my heart, not under it. I did not conceive and bear them, but rather came later to become a permanent part of their lives, to nurture and care for them, to teach them that there are no stars too far to reach. I only hope I can give to them what I was given as a child by my parents. Without a doubt, this is the toughest task I have ever undertaken, but also the most fulfilling.
I was asked to come into this family a little over a year after they were left on their own. I had known them for a long time before any of this transpired. We became friends through our close proximity of residence. I moved out of state for a time, but kept contact with them, sending packages of goodies for the kids whenever I could.
I was shocked to learn that my best friend and his children had been abandoned by his wife, the children's mother! She had taken a job driving a truck from coast to coast, and had apparently decided that there were more important things, and people, out there than family. I was bewildered! To end a relationship with an adult is one thing, but to leave the children you brought into this world is... is... I cannot begin to comprehend how one could do something that horrific to a child.
Do not get the impression that I wear the golden halo of an angel. I, too have done things that I am certain the Higher Power does not approve of, but nothing so offensive as rending the emotional fabric of a child's heart and mind. How could you hope to ever atone for that?
Deliberate if you will, my little girl's "Letter to Santa", written several years ago and sent to me by her Dad:
"Dear Santa,
Can I please have a little stuffed animal for
me please, a set of dolls, a bed tray. A little punching bag. Some boxing
gloves. A pair of slippers. A Mom that loves my family and won't run away
and a happy family."
Still, it is very apparent that they, the children, are being played as emotional pawns by the one who left to stack her own emotional righteousness. Guilt can be a harsh pill to swallow. Tell a lie enough times and it becomes truth in the twisted mental corridors of the teller. Young minds are the easiest to warp, but reality becomes clearer as maturity sets in. The path of the future is often forgotten in the turmoil of the moment. We shall see... we shall see.
Giving birth doesn't make you a Mom, only a mother. It takes a lot more to truly earn that title. It takes commitment, sacrifice, hard work, and it's filled with emotional ups and downs. When the going gets tough, and it does with children, the tough stick it out. We don't run and hide when the stress reaches fever pitch, we work it through. We are intelligent enough to realize that with every cloud a little rain must fall, and our reward is the brilliant rainbow that comes with the reemergence of the sun.
I am perplexed by the lack of support, both emotional and financial, that are sorely needed. The children are the ones who must suffer this. The situation was handled poorly from the very beginning. There are much better ways to disassociate ones self from a spouse without leaving such huge emotional gashes in the offspring.
I care not how I am treated for I know that underneath the confusion and despite the psychological warfare they are coerced into, they love me. The smiles in their eyes tell me so. And those smiling eyes are all I need.
My greatest reward shall be three young adults fully prepared to meet the challenges of the world, and be happy and successful at whatever they endeavor to accomplish.
To be continued...
The easy part is past... the hard part is yet to come. At ages 14, 12 and 10, they are truly a handful. How convenient it must be to keep company with them when it fits your own desire and not theirs. How nice it must be to always have the things you want and not worry about having to sacrifice so they can have the necessities. Do people like this sleep peacefully in the gloaming? Or do the demons that infest such a soul shriek in the dead of night?
The time of antipathy has passed and in its stead is simple distaste and a kind of gratification that the mistakes of another have made my life so very full and satisfying. I cannot imagine a world without the loving man and three extraordinary children that I call my own. Even though the loathing has lessened with time, the pain still cuts deep. It is not my own pain, but I bear it for them. I still cannot fathom the reasoning behind any of it. The one person who should be there, the one person who should never waver, the one person who a child should always be able to count on, their mother, is not there...
There is nothing that can be done to me that would hurt as much as they hurt. There is no amount of anything that can match the torment that my children have endured, and continue to endure. If there were only some way that I could erase all that came before and reinstill the secure emotional base that every child has a right to. The best I can do is to try to be a good parent, and this means making decisions that are not always likable. My own mother told me once that being a good parent has nothing to do with being popular. It has to do with being firm, guiding your charges toward the path of righteousness and hoping against all hope that what you teach them today will be remembered tomorrow.
And for those who's lives revolve around themselves and what can be gained toward their own satisfaction, judgement day will come. And on that day, whatsoever they have done unto others will come back unto them an hundredfold. May the Lord be merciful with their souls...
