Just because your voice reaches halfway around the world doesn't mean you are
wiser than when it reached only to the end of the bar.
- Edward R. Murrow


Sunday, August 7, 2011

Today

My son, Joey, is almost seven.

Today, Joey told me that his "real" home is the one that he lives in with his mom and his dog.

Today, Joey told me that my apartment isn't real ... it's a "fake home".

Today, Joey told me that I'm not a Davis anymore because I don't live in the same house that he does with mommy.

Today, Joey told me that I'm not his Daddy because I left.

Today, Joey told me that he can't love me because we're not a family and we don't live together.

Today was one of the lowest points of my life because it felt like my son didn't love me anymore.

Today felt like everything I have tried to do to insulate Joey as much as possible from the reality of separation and divorce was for naught.

Tonight, I knelt in front of my son in the hallway of my apartment building and wiped the tears from his face and tried to reassure him as much as possible that everything was going to be ok ... all the while fighting tears myself and failing.

Tonight, I sat on the floor of my son's room and held him, crying into his hair and told him over and over again how much I love him. That as long as he loves me, that's all that matters to me. That he is, and will always be, the most important person in my life.

Tonight, I told my son that I will always be his daddy, no matter what happens. I told him that I wish I could explain why things have changed and that maybe one day I will be able to.

Tonight, Joey said he was sorry for the things he said to me and that he loves me.

Tonight, I laid next to my son and watched him fall asleep, wishing for all the world that I could protect him from days like this but know that I can't.

Today has been the single hardest day of my life as a parent.