An Open Letter to My Cousin's Father...

An Open Letter to My Cousin’s Father:

Wait, let me retract that…An Open Letter to My Cousin’s Sperm Donor:

I used to like you. I really did. You married my aunt, who I considered my sister, because of the close proximity of our age. We had a special bond. Everything that she felt, I felt. Every sorrow, every joy that she experienced..I experienced. Every milestone in each of our lives was celebrated immediately with each other over the phone. And when she found out she was pregnant, she was nervous…but excited to bring this beautiful being made by you two into this world. I shared in this joyous news and you seemed to be equally excited…at the time.

When your son finally entered this world, everything changed. My aunt’s life no longer revolved around you. You were no longer #1. You were no longer catered to. You were no longer the center of attention. You couldn’t handle that. And although she still struggled to make you feel important and loved, it was never enough. You started to withdraw…you started to lie…and your needs became more important than your family. Even when you were around, you were still absent.

When you weren’t up to the task of being a husband and father, did it feel good to walk out the door and not look back? Did it feel good to charge up all the credit cards with purchases for your skanky girlfriend before you left? Did you just never feel good enough because your wife was an intelligent, college-educated woman? It’s funny though,your son didn’t seem to notice when you left. I guess you had to drop to your level and mess with the barely-getting-G.E.D. skank that you must’ve picked up at the local carnival…and then end up marrying her at a local Texas Chuck E. Cheese-like entertainment center before the ink on your divorce was dry.

You’ve always been one for timing, right?

You fought so hard for visitation and custody for your child during your divorce. You were such a great actor. You wanted people to think that you were doing the “right” thing; that you were looking out for your child’s best interest...but it was all a show; Academy Award worthy. In the beginning, you picked him up like clockwork (that was part of the script, right?) and then slowly but surely, the visits became far and less between. You always had an excuse for not showing up. (I hope you put “excuse-maker/liar” on your resume when you lost your job and used my aunt as a reference, she’d totally vouch for you). But my aunt knew you too well. She never told my cousin about your scheduled visits to pick him up because she knew better. She knew that you wouldn’t show. And the last thing she wanted to do was break his heart.

You know what you don’t realize? You don’t realize how much my aunt does to save face when it comes to your child. I know it’s hard for her not to call you a fucking asshole and to tell your son that you’re a loser. You know what she does? She makes excuses for you in order to save him from a world of hurt if he knew the truth. When it comes to your whereabouts, she does her best to conjure up some undeserving excuse for your absence. She knows you think he’s an inconvenience. You’d rather spend time with your step-daughter than with your own flesh and blood. You let your carnival wife dictate every move in your life which in turn affects your son. You go for months not seeing him, not calling him and then wonder why he looks at you with the warmth he would a total stranger. And when it comes to special occasions, you’re predictable. You got him the same thing for his birthday this year as you did last year..nothing. You're always asking for your child support to be cut down so that you can support your trailer park lifestyle. And even though you barely pay enough, my aunt makes it work. She sacrifices so that your son has whatever his heart desires. But, YOU are the one that’s supposed to be his hero and set the example. YOU were the one that was to provide for the family and keep him safe. That's what daddy's do. They’re supposed to be there through the good times and the bad times.

Not only did you lose your way...you lost a good woman.

But good riddance for her. God is going to bring her a MAN that steps up to the plate and treats her like a queen. This MAN will love your child and put his needs first. Your son will have a father that plays ball with him, takes him to the movies, helps him with his homework, takes him camping, plays in the park, or just sits with him and holds him. Who knows? She just might have that going on already.

You know..it's really hard for me to hold back and not print your name so that everyone knows that you're a piece of shit. But..I'm not going to use my blog to waste space and acknowledge your name that your son will forever carry. Everyone that knows me..knows of you...and that's enough for me.

Just so you know, you’re really missing out on a wonderful person. Your son is so smart and loving. He has a smile that can light up a room and at nine years of age, has an infectious personality that can capture anyone's heart. You need to thank his mom. She's raising such an amazing boy that will someday change the world.

I hope that one day, when my cousin looks back at the pictures of you holding him as a baby, he knows, that at one time..

you loved him…

and that at one time…

you would conquer the world for him…

Divorce Sucks

Divorce sucks.

There are no two ways about it.

Five years ago, January, my parent’s divorce became final. They had already been separated for seven years before they officially called it quits. And you would think that it would've been an easy pill to swallow since it had been so long and drawn out. Unfortunately, it wasn't.  After 34 years of marriage, how can a couple fall out of love? How can they call it quits? All the memories, time and feelings invested thrown out the door?Being an adult and experiencing my parent's divorce was heart-wrenching. I can't even begin to imagine what divorce is like through a child’s eyes.  

 

I grew up in a very loving household. I was a military brat and my mother stayed home with me and my brother until we were both a few years into elementary school. She was the epitome of the “perfect mom”. She was a college-educated woman who baked cupcakes, drove us to ballet and baseball practice, sewed my Brownie patches on my uniform, read books to us, coached our bowling team, was  “room mother”, she cooked, cleaned, sold Avon and World Book Encyclopedias in her spare time. She never missed a field trip and was always there whenever we needed a hug or a Band-Aid. She was a modern day June Cleaver with a touch of Carol Brady. We had the “perfect” family…  and that is why I resented her as much as I did when she left my father. 

 

My father was also a very loving, funny man who loved my mother very much and would do anything in the world for her. Yet, they both had such different personalities. My mother was outgoing and spontaneous. My father, a homebody and a planner.  He loved to work on the house, keep the yard manicured, and the house spotless.  I think the anal retentiveness really wore on my mother and after 34 years she had enough.

 

My parents gave me and my brother everything. We never wanted for anything.  We always had the latest toys, clothes, shoes and we each received cars when we passed our driver’s test and new cars after graduation. But the one thing they no longer had the ability to do was to spoil me with their "togetherness".  Don’t get me wrong, I have come to better understand my mother and the choices she made and I have to say that a large part of that stems from being a mother and wife myself. I understand that you do everything in your power to keep your family happy and healthy. I understand that your needs become secondary to your children and your husband. I understand that a good mother will pass up the pair of shoes she fell in love with at Nordstrom’s if it means providing more for her children. I understand the sacrifices and I understand the unconditional love. Unfortunately, my mother was giving and giving- trying to maintain the image of the “perfect mom”- unconsciously neglecting her own needs and it was slowly chipping away at her spirit until there wasn’t any of “her” left.

 

To this day, it’s still hard for me to look at pictures of me when I was younger during happier times with my parents. I look at my little six year old face in those portraits and see this happy child, not knowing that in 24 years her parents will no longer be taking pictures together….that there will no longer be family get-togethers or Halloween pumpkin carving contests in the kitchen. It’s taken some real soul searching and prayer to come to grips with my parent’s divorce. I’ve come to accept that the world does not stop for my grief, no matter how heart broken I am. Even as I type this, I still get choked up because there is that little place in my heart that hopes they’ll find their way back to each other one day.

 

I think this is what keeps me so committed in making my marriage work. I would never, ever wish this type of emotional anguish on anyone. Although my parents are friends and my relationship with both of them is tighter than it will ever be…divorce is a heart-wrenching, roller coaster ride. Marriage in itself is an astounding journey. Like most marriages, mine isn’t perfect. We both have our faults, but we balance each other out. I think the key to the success of our marriage is that we “agree to disagree”.  If anything, I’ve learned how much the human soul and spirit can endure. I’ve learned that we need to nurture our inner selves if we are going to be happy, productive parents, sisters, brothers, wives, husbands. It’s the proverbial oxygen mask that drops from the airplane ceiling. You need to breathe and make sure you’re ok before you can make sure that everyone else is. My children and my husband are my life, my heart and my soul.

Even if I had nothing more to give, I’d find the strength within myself to answer their cries for help.  

 

In all my triumphs- in every good and great thing that has happened to me- they have always been there for me &  I know that I will always be there for them…