No More Daddy

No More Daddy

They were 14 and 16 when I moved out. They naturally sided with Mom. Their young minds swayed to her side by years of conditioning. To mask their confusion they pretended animosity. They were confused. Marriage is supposed to be forever, dreams shattered in their youth. Primal fear on their faces. What to do? Side with Mom. It must have been his fault, just like she says. Already learning to project blame. Men take up the slack by agreeing and swallowing the pain. “What did I do” to deserve opening the door one day and being served with divorce papers? Who knows? Someday they will grow up and realize they miss their father. Thought about how to get him back after chasing him away. What to do? Stuck with Mom. She’s no fun like Dad used to be. He liked to take us places. Somewhere where we didn’t have to stand in line. He hated standing in line. He hated games. Except Monopoly. Did we really enjoy them all that much without him? He took us skiing, to England, to Cozomel. She claims credit but it was always on him. Just like the pool: 'The family can't afford this' so it was up to him.Later finding out she was padding her IRA with money the family 'couldn't afford'. Travelling is fun. We are now old enough to wander beyond the gift shops but its too late. At our early youth its already too late. He is no longer part of us—the family—with Mom. Who are we without a male model, without our Dad. Our uncles? Ok...

Halloween is coming up. His favorite holiday. Mom taught it was evil when it is only a celebration of harvest time. It was Dad’s favorite holiday. He looked forward in dressing up and answering the door with a basket of candy. He loved seeing those little kids showing up, baskets opened, waiting for that special surprise, parents ever watchful in the distance. He loves Halloween. It’s a celebration of kids. The best holiday of the year. To him it was a celebration of life. He once got married on Halloween, to the woman he truly loved, but threw away. How does it feel Dad? You deserved what we did to you, just like you did to her. No wonder Mom hated you. There was always the never mentioned but always mommy awared ‘Her’. But ‘Her’ was nothing more than a never mentioned memory, but still—she was there. O yes Judy. You, the memory of you will always be there. THERE! A throwayway, a rebound. The best kind of find but seldom appreciated only to be tossed away again by another unappreciating one. Shame! Not to appreciate your positive attitude. Shame! Not to appreciate your people skills. Shame! Not to appreciate your unassuming outlook and innocent smile. Shame! For not recognizing you for wisdom beyond your years and for the jewel you were. Shame! For not recognizing true love staring me in the face. Shame on me. I deserve everything the Slaybaugh can dish out for that.

To know how that feels? Horrible, but how was I to know Judy? How badly I would hurt you. Years after After I aborted our baby and lost you I always wanted two girls to love, maybe to take your place. You have to watch out what you wish for. A lady once said to me: ‘Do you have any kids’ to my ‘No’ response she replied? ‘Well you are missing out on a lot of joy and a lot of pain.’ Oh Missy!’ Bitter medicine indeed.