There have been so many moments where I’ve flip flopped from one side of this to the other. Those who read my blog see where I’ve been torn into pieces over what to do about The Jerk. One minute I’d give my e
very breath to have a father for my son, not just any father, but his real father; to give him that father-son bond that cannot be duplicated because he deserves that – all children deserve to have a their mother and father. Only it wouldn’t be his real father I would want, I would want the person that he pretended to be, in my son’s life. I would want the pretend him, the one who loved his children more than the moon and the sky, the man who doted on them and couldn’t wait to see their smiling faces, the fabrication The Jerk so easy created until one day it disappeared into a disgusting and worthless pile of anger and abuse. It is because of that day that there are times that I actually pray that God will make him leave for good; no more of this back and forth. Just go away and let my Peanut live in peace. I don’t know which is worse him being around or him leaving for good?
Ms. Cookie (Peanut’s teacher) handed me a little piece of construction paper today…on it a sail boat with Peanut’s hand print as the sail. It read “I’d sail the seven seas for you Daddy. I love you! Happy Fathers Day” all I could was smile and utter a choked Thank you with tears in my eyes. I thought to myself:
if only he would do the same for you son…..
She looked at me as if she knew, with eyes that said I’m sorry. I kissed my Peanut and said goodbye, I waited till I reached my car to cry. It was a quiet cry not the violent kind. The kind of cry where you’ve given this moment all the energy that you can muster long before now and this is just a repeat of times past. The kind of cry where there are no sobs, no tightened muscles – no it was the kind of cry where every ounce of energy left me as I sat defeated in my car tears streaming down my face and off my chin saturating my shirt. I’ve been here before, crying all alone not knowing what to wish now just hoping God will lead me in what is right for my son. God please, I prayed I don’t know what to do…just please help me be the best for him. I feel like my hands are tied….
Suddenly my phone rings….it’s The Jerk. I stared at my phone blankly…what could I do? If I ignore it he’ll just call back over and over again till I answer. So I answer…he’s coming to visitation he says. I’m emotionless. I wanted to scream in the phone I hate you for what you’ve done to my life, to my son’s life! instead I just said “Ok” and hung up the phone. I wanted to be angry, to say he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve my Peanut’s love. Then at the same time – I thought maybe I should be happy that he actually wants to see my son – his son technically. I don’t know how to feel right now.
It’s bittersweet….
One one hand my son deserves to have his father – but on the other his father is worthless and can’t be the father he 
deserves. He’ll come to visitation and play for a while, he’ll leave and probably not see him for another 6 months. Will my Peanut know the difference? In the back of mind I’ll be wishing he would leave, that he would say he’s moving to California or Australia and never coming back. But that’s my selfishness speaking, or is it? Could it just be that I feel the pain for my son, that I sympathize with the hurt and confusion that will come when he realizes his father is only around out of convenience?
There is no right answer for this moment. I know there won’t be some divine intervention where God gives me the answer that will solve everything, no only time can fix this. I’ll just have to smile through the bittersweet moment and wish that I had given my son a better father, a father who would love and care for him, a father who would never hurt or abandon him. I’ll own that moment, because it is mine. I’ll take responsibility for the tears because it’s my fault that they fall; because I chose to be with him, I chose to stay in the chaos, I chose to live with the abuse.
It’s oh so bittersweet, because although I want to hate him and wish we’d never met, I thank God that I endured the things I did, because it brought me my son. No matter what happens I will always be grateful to God for that.
End thought: “When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.” ~Sophia Loren,
Mother Single 