I am not the keeper of the Universe.  As much as you want me to be in that role, I do not hold that much power.  I am strong.  I am capable but I am not all powerful.

When you choose to work instead of being home with your children.  When you threaten and abuse their Mother.  When you walk out on them in a glory of drama only to return with open arms and more drama, when you don’t parent full-time either married or divorced, when bedtime holds no sacredness for you nor do birthday parties, when you ruin holidays and fly off the handle and make us walk on egg shells, there comes a time, when your children have to mourn the loss of you and decide how to move on.  This is not something I did with my wicked ways.  I tried to build you up for as long as I could to hide your shortcomings and your lack of dedication to being their Dad.  But, there comes a time, when the children you think are not listening or don’t know anything, listen to everything and know everything.  They take it in and it, in turn, causes them trauma.

Here is the thing, they were too young to defend their Mother.  They were too young to have you leave and come back as many times as you did.  They witnessed you punching the refrigerator, punching the door.  They were placed in the middle when you made them choose between us.  I had nothing to do with those things.  I cannot fix what you broke.  The older son went through it and has found mutual ground and set his boundaries and now the younger son is mourning the loss of his Dad and doing the same.  I didn’t cause this trauma, you did.  They don’t have a normal “Dad”.  Their words, not mine.

As I sat at the funeral service of our dear friend today, I realized that our sons, while they would have good things to say about you should you die, it would be nowhere near the joyful, wonderful family that stood on the altar today.  They could not talk about fun family vacations where everyone got along and had a great time.  They could not talk about how pleased you were to get their gifts even though they were simple things like cashews.  They could not say you had a serious side but had a wonderful laugh and joked and were witty.  If they were honest and really thought about it, they would probably say that your death hurts as much as the trauma and confusion you caused them when they had to figure out how to navigate their childhood and then young adulthood with a father who was no more emotionally capable than a teenager to be a father.  You are emotionally vacant.

So, because I raised them to be good and kind and thoughtful, when your time comes, they will be sad and they will say all the right things but they won’t have a lot to draw on.  At least as it stands right now.

Which brings me back to my title. I am not responsible for your relationship with your children.  Only you can heal that and it has been made perfectly clear to me, that you are not capable of doing that.  I can’t fix stupid and I can’t fix narcissism no more than I can fix that you traumatized our family for its entire existence.  All I can do is continue to teach, set examples and love our children the way they deserve to be loved, continue to be selfless and put them first and hope that as the only parent they can count on, I can give them hope and heal their wounds.  I was not the one to leave the holes in their heart because they witnessed domestic violence, you were.  But I will die trying to fill in those holes and heal their trauma.  When I decided I wanted to be a Mother, I went into that position wholeheartedly and I will not walk away from my responsibilities or duties even though some of those duties, were put into existence by you.  Every day, I fight, the demons you brought into our lives and I will not give up on our boys.  It is a war I fight eagerly and with dedication to win.


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