My daughter hasn’t spoken to Honey for over a year now. She kind of told him off before quitting contact with him altogether. It was deeply gutting to watch. She let him know in very plain terms what she thought of his decision to move so far away from her, and that she didn’t appreciate him repeatedly telling her he was going to come for a visit and then never doing it. She called him a liar and told him that he hurt her and our entire family. He hung his head in (mock) contrition, and told her she was right and has every reason to be angry. He was so sorry, in fact, that he never remedied that and still has not come to see her. Not ever. Not once.

My son got a cell phone about a year ago – the safe kind with no internet or anything. I have to approve the contacts in his phone. As soon as I got him the phone I added his dad as a contact and texted him to let him know that Skype is now over with at the kid’s request. They didn’t want it anymore and hadn’t for years. I explained that if he wants to talk to his son that he can call him directly on his cell any time, and gave him the phone number. He responded ‘Oh wow, ok. Well that’s disappointing that they don’t want to Skype anymore but I guess I understand.’ Awww. You know what I find disappointing? YOU. 

I am deeply sorry that your child-under-glass viewing time has come to an end after 10 years. Now my son only answers calls from his dad every once in a while. The fake centrality of it all has ceased. The showy ‘look at me, I’m still somehow your parent because I’m Skyping you’ nightmare train has finally left the station. The sweet relief of never having to hear that Skype jingle go off in my living room ever again is like the greatest gift I’ve received in my adult life. As I write that, I realize how deeply depressing that sentence is. Depressing, yet true.

A few weeks ago, my daughter broke down in tears to me about her father again. She said “I hate him, but I love him. You know what I mean? I hate having these feelings. I just wish I could be in the same room with him. I hate that I’ve never even been able to hug him or see him in person.’ And then in a moment of wanting her pain to stop, I said ‘do you want me to reach out to your dad and tell him that you want him to come see you?’ She lit up and immediately said yes. I instantly realized what I’d just promised, and made sure I added “I don’t know if he will, and I make no promises, but I’ll tell him.’ She said she understood. I know, I know. I must be crazy. But it’s for her. I’d do anything for her.

I haven’t, in the 10 years since I was fired from being his wife, told Honey what to do. I haven’t told him he needs to get on a plane or shamed him (well, maybe I tried shaming him in the beginning, but quickly realized the futility of that and stopped). Instead, I’ve been waiting for a demonstration of the adult he purports to be, but have sadly seen no evidence of that. He has taught me not to expect anything at all, but young kids filled with optimism and hope take a while to receive that message in their little hearts and minds. It’s a hard and disheartening thing to witness.

So I’ve spent the last several weeks trying to figure out what in the hell I’m supposed to say. I’ve tried various iterations of this request out in my mind, but it always goes totally sideways. I end up lambasting him and going for that shame angle, despite knowing full well that he lacks the ability to feel it. Nonetheless, I throw all the darts at the board hoping I’ll hit that one balloon and win the giant stuffed panda. Except, in this case, the prize is having my neck-tattooed ex-husband in the same zip code as I am and a devastated daughter once he flies back home. Not exactly what I’d consider a prize.

Dear Family Abandoning Ass-Hat,

Dear Douche-Canoe of the Appalachia’s,

Hey Chief,

Dear Ex Husband,

Why did you bother to take me to court for custody of the children 7 years ago and then never follow the court’s order to go to counseling with them or come visit them, even once? Did you just want me to have to borrow $8K to hire a lawyer and take years off my life from the stress from all of that for nothing? Do you somehow believe it’s acceptable to just not visit your son or daughter for 10 years? Do you ever stop to think about the pain this causes them? What planet do you live on where being absent from the lives of your kids for a decade is somehow ok?

Strike that. Start over. I can do better. I can do this.

Dear Red Flag of a Human Being,

Dear Duplicitous Dirtbag,

You Motherf

Sir,

   Your children are now old enough to understand that you are not ‘saving for a plane ticket’ as you’ve said for their entire childhoods. They understand that is just a repeated lie you told them when they were younger and innocent enough to believe you. Baby Girl, now 11 going on 20, has the brilliant mind of a person much older than her age, and sees the situation for what it really is. She understands that you don’t care, and that is why you haven’t come. She is no longer the little girl who would believe me when I’d say something like ‘it’s probably hard for him too get time off work’ even though I know you are unemployed more than you are employed. I can no longer expect her to express relief when I say ‘he probably means to, but it’s expensive’ even though I know if you stuck a couple dollars in a jar every day you could have circled the globe several times over by now. I can’t say these things because she would no longer believe me even if I did. I will not insult her intelligence by aiding and abetting your lies. I never meant to when she was younger, but for lack of knowing what else to say, I simply shrugged and said things like that. When it never happened, I’d add ’I’m not sure why he’s not coming babe’, rather than something that would devastate her, such as the truth: ‘Don’t count on ever seeing him. He’s never coming.’

   I’ve never gone out of my way to bash you where they’re concerned, but I’ve never gone out of my way to defend you either. I’ve tried to be this Switzerland…thing..that neither says nor does anything to make the situation worse. But now there’s direct questions from a keen mind that no longer believes in Santa, from a mind that is acutely aware of the pain you have foisted upon her, and upon all of us. Instead there is this pair of lovely aquamarine eyes so filled with the pain of your abandonment that they brim with tears and outrage. Outrage you’ll never see or feel, but that I witness in frequent late night crying sessions and outbursts at moments that seem to come out of nowhere. I imagine it’s probably after she witnesses simple things like her friend Betty’s dad picking her up from school, or her friend Donovan’s single father moving heaven and earth to make sure he has a great birthday at Chuck E Cheese. I see her eyes in those moments. There’s wonder there, and questions too. Men should show up for their children? Men can be dads to their kids even after divorce? Then why doesn’t mine come for me? Why has he never once picked me up from school, or been at my birthday party? Why aren’t I important enough to have a dad that does any of that? He says he loves me, but how could he if he never even bothers to come see me?

All I can do, and all I have ever done, is to try to comfort her and try to find the right words. You know why? Because you’ve left me with every job, from the delightful to the horrifying, where our children are concerned. You dumped your responsibilities onto me and I’ve shouldered every single one for the last decade with zero help or input from you. You will never, ever comprehend what that has been like, nor do you appear to care. You parked the car in a loading zone and threw the keys into a lake and walked away. You’re nothing but a piece of —-

Ok, stop. Stop. Get back on track. What in the hell, Wife – this isn’t your own personal pain party, this is for baby girl. Good grief. Start again.

Dear Walking Cautionary Tale,

Hey Jabroni,

Yo Chuckles –

Dude,

Your daughter wants to know what it’s like to have a father that would go out of his way to be in the same room with her. You’ve missed 10 birthdays, Christmases, first days of school, trips to urgent care, all of it. You’ve missed all of it. Her heart is broken because of your indifference. How about you pull your head out of your ass and buy a plane ticket and visit with your own child? And how about, oh I don’t know, you do it even if it costs you time and money so she can feel what it’s like to be put first by you once a decade? I sincerely doubt you will, but I told her I would convey the message. Your son might also like to be in the same room as his father at least one time before he graduates high school. Dare to dream.

Sigh. The more biting my words, the less I feel like it will matter. Maybe my best friend is right. Keep it short and sweet and save my outrage and sanity for other things. After all, I’m currently raising a highly intelligent 13 year old boy with A.D.D. and LOTS of drama, and an emotional pre-teen girl with the brilliant mind of someone twice her age. I’m seriously outnumbered. I need to save my sanity units for the daily battles. Because believe me, they are exhausting.

The final version, going out tomorrow to Honey:

ExHusband,

    Your daughter asked me to tell you she wants you to come visit her. Ball’s in your court.

ExWife

P.S. You SUCK.

Ok, ok. Just the first part. This being an adult thing blows.