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Father’s Day Special

Father’s Day Special

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As I think about Father’s Day and the Anniversary of me starting this blog, I thought it would be a good time to do something a little special and share an excerpt from a novel I am working on. The book is entitled, “Busted Hearts.”

Tristan felt a tug on his shirt and turned looking down at an energetic four year old with a sparkle in his big brown eyes and world class grin across his face.

“Mr. Tristan! Mr. Tristan!”

“What is is, Billy?” Tristan asked, stooping down to get eye-level with the little boy.

“This is for you,” Billy said while the smile that already engulfed his face seemed to get impossibly larger.

Taken aback, Tristan stuttered for the words to say, “Uh, Billy, this is supposed to be a gift for your dad.”

The little boy’s smile faded as he looked down at his shoes, “I know, but… but I don’t have a dad.” He continued to study the floor as his expression teatered between an onrush of sadness and deep contemplation.

A flood of emotions passed of Tristan. He had really stepped in it this time. How was he going to fix this? Poor kid.

“You could give it to your mom,” Tristan quickly threw out the first thing that came to mind.

Billy giggled as the smile returned to his face and he replied with a playful, but confident tone, “You’re so silly Mr. Tristian! Mommys can’t be daddys!”

Tristan was relieved that the awkward moment of sadness had passed as fast as it had arrived, but remained at a loss as to what to do next. Thankfully, the little boy took the lead.

“Daddy’s are boys!” Billy continued between more giggles. “Daddy’s are big boys–like you, Mr. Tristan. Daddy’s are strong and they take care of you and teach you how to be a big boy… and they play games with you!”

Tristan struggled to process the words coming out of the little boy’s mouth. His mind transported him back into time, looking down at his own son when he was about the same age as Billy. Dante’s eyes were a striking dark green, but held the same sparkle and passion as Billy’s brown ones. At least they had. Then. It has been a long time since Dante’s eyes has displayed that kind of energy and life. Tristan was overwhelmed with fear as he worried: Will my little boy ever be the same? Will he ever have that sparkle of joy in his beautiful green eyes again? Will I ever even get a chance to see those eyes again?

Billy stood there still holding out the Father’s Day craft they had worked on during Sunday School class, “Pleeease, you can be my at church daddy” Billy pleaded while waiting for Tristan to accept his gift.

Tristan couldn’t find words, but nodded in agreement and accepted the necktie-shaped foam cut out with “#1 Dad” sprawled across it. He just stared down at the word “Dad” as he stood up and the feelings of doubt and despair rushed over him. I don’t think I’m much of a dad, Tristan thought to himself, much less a number one ranked dad. My kids hate me. They never want to see me again. I’ve hurt them, ruined them. I’m no dad. Certainly not one anyone wants.

Tristan’s self-deprecating thoughts were cut short as little Billy brought him back into the present moment. Tristan looked down again, this time Billy had his arms wrapped around Tristan’s legs and let out a quiet confirmation of his intentions, “I love you, Mr. Tristan.”

Tristan’s eyes darted around the room to see if anyone else had seen what just happened. Sure enough, his eyes met with the downcast glare of Ms. Betsy. He had a pretty good idea of what she was thinking right now, too. It was the same look his wife had given him to remind him of what a true disappointment he was: Tristan, the man who doesn’t listen. Tristan, the slob. Tristan, the failure.

Tristan wished he could pick up the little boy and hold him close and tell him that he loved him too. But in this day and age, a man can’t even touch his own children without being suspected of malicious intentions–let alone someone else’s child.

For the Fathers Separated from their Children on Father’s Day

For the Fathers Separated from their Children on Father’s Day

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For many years, there was one moment in movies, at weddings, etc. that would inevitably bring me to tears and make me feel like someone had just stabbed me with a knife through the heart:  a father-daughter dance. Every time. Why? Because I was preemptively mourning something I thought I would never have. It hurts so much to watch someone else be happy enjoying something that you long for.

I am not a father (and never will be, courtesy of me being a woman and all), so I cannot directly share your pain of being away from your children on Father’s Day.  However, I do want to share what I encouragement I can offer from the other side. Because I have been a child separated from her father for so much more than just Father’s Day.

My parents divorced when I was a child. Prior to that divorce, I was your typical Daddy’s girl. I was my father’s little princess and he was my hero. The foundation of my life crumbled along with my parent’s marriage. The divorce was ugly, lasted for years, and ultimately ended with my mother moving my siblings and me 1500 miles away from our father and everyone we knew.

Years of geographical separation paired with resentment and bitterness fueled by my devastated mother caused an emotional alienation from my father. I went from being sad, to being mad, to never wanting to see my father again, to referring to him as my “sperm donor” and minimizing his impact on my life. At least I tried. And so I cried. Every time I saw a father-daughter dance.

The thing about parent-child relationships is that you can’t break them. You can’t ignore them. You can’t destroy them. You can’t try to run away and escape them. The blood bond is just too strong. Trust me. I’ve tried. So no matter what happens–whether death, divorce, abuse, alienation–whatever your story is, your child will always love you and want to be with you (even if their words and/or actions say otherwise at the present moment).

As a father, part of your job is to sacrifice for your children. It is unfortunate and unnatural that you have to sacrifice this way, but yet here you are spending [another] Father’s Day without the very child[ren] that qualify you to celebrate this holiday. And you have to bear it. You have to stay strong. You have to maintain a level head and also not resort to anger–against yourself, or your child, or their mother, or whoever you think may be responsible for the current divide. Sometimes it is your job to make the sacrifice. It is not fair. But no one said fatherhood was fair.

So, I’ve been a little depressing but I intend to encourage, I promise. If there is one thing I want to desperately say to you today it is to keep on loving your child[ren]. You are and always will be their Daddy. They love you. Love them. Love them with the unconditional love that parents were always meant to share with their children. And when they are angry and bitter and tell you that they hate you and never want to see you again, love them harder; because they need it all the more. Given your situation, you may have to love them from afar; but do everything you do as though they are watching you (because they probably are, or will be) and are looking for an opportunity to run back to you.

I married a divorcee. My husband has been separated from his children for years. It kills me to see the pain in his eyes, every day; because every day is a one more day they aren’t together. It is a crying shame, but has become a staple of our society (I have heard countless stories) for loving, able fathers to be alienated from their children. Please know that the children hurt, too. Your child may be caught in the middle of a tug-of-war with his/her mother and just trying to survive with the least amount of damage. Your child may have been turned against you by someone they trust and doesn’t know what the truth is anymore. Your child may be an adult who disagreed with you on something and just isn’t ready to admit they were wrong yet. So many stories, but they can all end well with the same approach–Love and open arms.

I want to close with a special photograph. And a thank you to my own father. I spent 15+ years of my life trying to eliminate my father from my life, reveling in resentment and bound by bitterness. I don’t know the extend of the pain I caused him; but I’m well acquainted with how much I have hurt myself. I couldn’t be more grateful or proud of my dad who, when I realized that I wanted and needed him, was waiting for me with open arms. Loving me the same way he did when I was a three year old little princess. After all of the terrible things I have said (and thought and felt) to and about my father, he loves me and continues to sacrifice of himself for me.

I sometimes mourn the lost opportunities for all the memories I could have had with my father over the span of the many years we were emotionally separated. However, I no longer preemptively mourn for things that I think I’ll never had. Life is too short, and suspect for change. Today will not inevitably be your tomorrow.

Enjoy today. Happy Father’s Day, Daddy! Reminisce of all the happy memories you have shared with your child[ren] and look forward to the memories you will create in the future. You will be reunited with your child[ren]. Focus on being ready by continuing to love them through the pain and keeping your arms wide open.

My Father-Daughter Dance

My father-daughter dance–that I thought would never happen–became a reality at my wedding. Thank you, Daddy. I love you!