Mommy Blog

Thrown Away

in Thoughtful Thursdays on June 26, 2015

Most of my posts on this site are funny and goofy and poke fun at one, two or all members of my family–I did not intend for that to happen, but they give me so much ammunition that I just cannot help it!  However, today’s post has been rolling around in my head for days…and it is neither funny nor goofy, and pokes fun at no one.  So continue at your own risk.

This past Sunday was Father’s Day.  I hope that all the dads out there had a spectacular day.  Father’s Day always brings me mixed emotions.  My parents have been married for thirty-plus years; I am older than that.  This means one of two things: First, I was conceived out of wedlock, or two, my dad is not my biological father.  I’ll take Door #2 for the win, Johnny!  The man I call Dad, is not my biological father.  He stepped into that role when I was seven.  Although it was not until I was an adult that I truly understood or appreciated his sacrifice, struggle and commitment to me and for me.

Hind sight is 20/20.

For years and years, my biological father–let’s call him Paul–would come around for visitation.  He would call on my birthday and on Christmas morning.  He would send me to Florida every summer to visit his parents for a month.  While I was there he would call every single day.  I was THIRTY-FIVE-YEARS-OLD before anyone told me, he was calling to talk to his parents–NOT to talk to me.  I called him on his birthday and on Father’s Day, which brings me to my post.  Beyond those days, I did not have that much interaction with him through the years.  I have not seen, nor heard from him in seven years.  Oh…we have been in close proximity to each other…once…by happenstance…we were both visiting his family one summer, about five years ago.  However, once he found out that me, Jeff and the kids were in town…

He and his wife left town.

They returned to finish their visit after we were safely on our way back to Texas.  So, why am I telling all of you all of this?  It is really sad and sort of morbid.  I have a thirteen-year-old.  He is a royal pain in my arse.  He believes he is entitled.  Although to what, exactly, he believes he is entitled, I am not sure.  He is moody and cranky.  At times I am certain there is more than a couple different people living inside him.  I have spoken to my mother-in-law about him–she only smiles, and says, “He’s just like his father.”  Terrific.  Right now, his father is the last person he wants to be like.  You see, Ethan and Jeff do not really see eye-to-eye right now…on anything.  Ethan does any-and everything in his power to push his father away.  It is like he sits in his room and plots and plans the most effective ways to get directly under Jeff’s skin.  If I did not have to live in the same house with them, and constantly referee the two of them it might be entertaining.

So, this past Saturday I asked our oldest why he tried so hard to push away his father.  I was answered with the usual grunts and shoulder shrugs.  Then I proceeded to ask him if he wanted to be thrown away.  Grunt.  I assured him that was a very real possibility—though not in this house, nor in this family.  I told him that kids get thrown away all the time.  How do I know this?  It happened to me.

He just stared at me.  He blinked and said, “Papaw couldn’t throw you away.”

My parents have so effectively closed the gap in everyone’s memory that there was ever a time before my Dad, people forget.  My children certainly are blissfully unaware of the possibility of my having a “second” father, considering they have only met him once.  I told him that it was not Papaw who threw me away, he was right about that.  But, that I know full well what it feels like to be thrown away and forgotten…to wonder if I ever cross my “father’s” mind…my birthday…does Father’s Day mean anything to him…is he even curious about his grandchildren…These are the demons that my husband has to deal with on a regular basis.  While Ethan pushes Jeff away, and continues to be wrapped up in whatever self-absorbed teenage crisis of the moment has his attention, Jeff continues to reach out and try to get his attention.  He tries do things for the two of them to stay connected.

When my mother got re-married, she provided me that same type of Dad.  I was a very strong-willed child.  I also had someone on the other side of the telephone working extreme mind games on me telling me lies about the parents I lived with, in an attempt to wriggle out of child support and visitation.  My mother and her ex were never on good terms and I was caught in the cross-fire.  It made a lasting impression.  By the grace of God, my children will never have to go through what I went through as kid.  People joke about “Daddy Issues”, but they are real, and they can be devastating.  Those kinds of scars hide in the shadows of your mind, and threaten you when you least expect it.

My daughter has no concept of abandonment.  My sons know what it means to be the man of the house.  All three of my children know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are loved.  When two people get divorced, please remember to guard your words carefully.  Your children are listening and learning.  Some of the lessons learned during those times, are better left unlearned.

Here’s hoping your lessons are good ones!

-Dallas