The hurt (in the) closet.

I’ve thought long and hard about sharing this particular part of my journey, but I had to wait until the chapters wrote themselves.   It’s been an incredibly painful left turn, and one that I never, ever could have predicted.

But it happened nonetheless.

I remember, years ago, watching the movie Kramer vs Kramer.  Remember when Meryl Streep left Dustin Hoffman, and left her son as well?  At the time I thought, “How could she leave her child?  HOW?  I would NEVER, EVER leave my child.”  I hated Meryl, and had to remember that she was playing a character that I didn't respect.   In fact, it wasn’t until recently that my mind raced back to that very person, and I looked at her as if I’d never seen her before.

How young and naïve I was back then - to judge someone’s actions without walking in their shoes. (Sure, it was a damn movie, but come on.) 

I left my home, the life I knew.  I left a marriage, a house, gardens, neighbors and a life I was comfortable with.   And, after many discussions, my children chose to stay behind.   They chose to stay in the only home they knew, and while we discussed over and over and over the fact that I was not leaving THEM but the marriage, it was an incredible blow that I never imagined I would have to take.  

But I respected their wishes.  The girls were in college, and while my heart was broken I knew they would have to find their way.  I had to be patient, and allow their hearts to guide them.   And for reasons that will remain private, it wasn’t long before they joined me.

But my Golden Boy?  He was 12, and we had agreed that I would see him almost every day.  At least that was the plan.  And of course the most well-laid plans often go terribly awry.

And they did.

I remember the words he spoke to me so early in this painful journey, “Mom, I know that you love me.”

I held those words close to my heart, as it was broken over and over throughout this ordeal.  I remember thinking and preparing for the fact that the girls might need more time to adjust- and then being blindsided by the fact that HE was the one who turned this journey upside down.

And now as we find a comfortable rhythm in this dance of divorce, I have come to realize certain things.  

Yes, a boy will always, always love his mother; but he also needs his father.  

And sometimes, probably most of the time, the father needs the son. 

While I was busy trying to save my own life- I’ve realized that the boy was busy saving his dad’s.  And I can never, ever fault him for that.



In fact, I would expect nothing less of any child of mine.

Nothing less.