Father’s Day is upon us and it’s got me thinking about how things change and yet stay the same.
One of the most difficult aspects of my separation from my ex-wife is how this whole thing has and will affect our 6 1/2 –year-old son, Joey. I have struggled so long and so hard about what this will do to him, about how it will change him.
One of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life is sit down with Joey and tell him his mom and I were separating and that I was moving out. I will always remember ever single detail of that moment, the talk we had with him…sitting on the floor of the living room, trying to be as comforting as possible but at the same time honest and answer his questions.
Through tears he asked the questions I expected, “Will you still be my mommy and daddy? Will I still be your son? Are we still going to be a family?”
We reassured him that we will always be his parents, he our son and that yes, we will still be a family, it’s just going to be a little different.
He also asked questions that I didn’t expect, “Can I watch TV now?”
Leading up to this talk and making this change, I had been in therapy weekly for almost a year and agonized over what was going on at home. Much of the discussion centered on Joey and how I didn’t want him to ever be a child of a divorce, how I didn’t want to hurt him, how I would never wish this for him. He loved the idea of the three of us being together so much, the idea of family, and often initiated “Davis family hugs” and the three of us would embrace each other, usually with Joey in the middle, laughing.
As I talked to my therapist, I felt more and more like a failure not just as a husband but as a father as well. I felt like I was letting Joey down and that if I wasn’t physically there for him, how could I be a dad to him?
I was wracked with guilt, an overwhelming feeling that I was ripping his world apart, that I was doing this to him. I cried so much thinking about how this amazing little boy was caught in the middle of something he couldn’t really understand and it was my fault.
But then a funny thing happened …
I moved out, got my own place … and Joey survived.
In my darkest times, my therapist told me again and again that children are resilient. That, like adults, they find a way to cope and as long as I was always there for Joey, ultimately he would be OK.
And you know what? He was right.
Yes, Joey has his moments and he does tell me sometimes that he wishes we were all together and that I lived at his house, but overall he’s OK.
I wish everyone could meet my son. He’s got personality to spare, LOVES Star Wars and Legos … all the typical boy stuff.
He’s such a beautiful boy, inside and out. Blue eyes, freckles across his cheeks, thick brown hair that I love to run my fingers through and mess up.
His smile is infectious and I absolutely LOVE the way he makes himself laugh … a great, from-deep-down-inside belly laugh.
Even more, I love the way he makes me laugh, especially how hard he tries to get me to laugh. But the best part is when he makes me laugh without trying and I have to try and explain to him why daddy is laughing. Like when he could stare at himself in the mirror for hours, making faces, waving his hands.
Being with him is the best part of my life. Seeing the world through his eyes, the way he gets so excited and passionate about something, how well he reads and writes, takes such pleasure in little things, like keeping rocks and sticks for his “collection” … the way he talks so authoritatively about Star Wars, and his imagination is amazing.
Without a doubt, my most favorite thing in life is the sound of Joey’s voice when I pick him up from school and he comes running to me and says, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” and wraps his arms around me. His hug is so comforting to me and I can feel how much he loves me. I never get tired of hearing him say out of the blue, “Daddy, I love you.”
You often hear about how being a parent is the most difficult job in the world and whoever said that wasn’t kidding. Of course things aren’t perfect all of the time and Joey can drive me absolutely nuts. I’m not a perfect father… no one is. But I’m trying the best I can and if Joey’s hugs and kisses and how often he tells me, “Daddy, I can’t wait for Father’s Day because you’re the best dad ever!” are any indication, then I think I’m doing a pretty good job.
At least, if Joey thinks so, then that’s all that matters – and will ever matter – to me.
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