Is there really a difference between the three? And who does it affect the most? My last two children’s father moved to Ohio last year, and it has been very challenging to say the least. They haven’t seen their dad in almost a year and have only spoken to him on occasion. The one I thought would be affected the most was my 13-year-old son Zachary. He loves his father so much and until last year had often referred to him as “Superman”. Watching this separation unfold has stirred quite an emotion in myself. The dynamics between my son, myself and my 6-year-old daughter Alexis has taken me to a whole new level of being a single mother.
I had always had a strong belief that every boy needs to have a father to teach him how to be a “man” and treat the opposite sex in a respectful manner. And that every little girl needs to have a father to teach her by his shining example how she deserves to be treated by a man. What I have learned this past year is this:
That regardless of a fathers involvement in their children’s lives, a mothers role is just as vital a component to their mental & emotional conditioning and their learning as a fathers. My son will grow to be a man, and my daughter will grow to be a woman regardless the extent of their dads involvement. I had put the lions share of responsibility on my ex husbands shoulders to teach these values to our children. During the course of this past year, I have grown into the understanding, acceptance and appreciation of the value and teacher I get to be as their Mom. Although I value, respect and appreciate the place that their father has in their lives, I am learning and accepting the value I have as well.
The optimal way of teaching our children for me, has always been the active involvement and participation of both parents. That is the way it was “suppose” to be. In today’s society ( and my own home) however, it is not, nor was it for myself growing up, considered the norm. Households and families range from single parents, grandparents, siblings and both parents having the role and responsibility of raising the family.
My original plan of parenting didn’t turn out the way I anticipated, and I can say with conviction that I feel blessed that it didn’t. In the raising of my children, they have been the driving force and catalyst for my own growing pains.
My son and I had a very challenging year at both home and school. I had on many occasions wanted to “throw in the towel” and felt completely hopeless that I could be who he needed his father to be during his transition into the “teen” years. He was very angry at his father for leaving him. I was exasperated with where to go with him to help him express. Then we experienced a huge breakdown and blow up of our egos (especially mine). It was that very day that I experienced the effect of surrendering to my primary role in my little mans life. I am his Mom.
I am the most impactful woman in his life. I am responsible to love this little guy so much, and teach him by my example of how he gets to treat women, how he gets to rise up and grow into his own manhood & his natural ”masculine” by allowing myself to be the ”feminine”. His dad will always be his dad. His male role model indeed, but not his only model of manhood. I cannot force, beg, plea, negotiate or demand his involvement in our sons life. I can only take responsibility for my actions and how I choose to show up daily as a role model. I choose to love him, I choose to honor his father for being his father, I choose to surrender to the natural flow of growth, and embrace the pains of parenting that is allowing me to grow into the woman I want my daughters to be, and the woman I want my sons to love, honor and respect.
I have had many moments during the school year where I was eagerly anticipating the “vacation” I would be getting when my children went to spend the summer with their dad, and the vacation they would be getting from me and all my pleas & demands. I was excited that they were going to be in their Daddy’s care and get to make up for the year they’ve been apart and experiencing their own separation anxiety. That day almost appeared as though it wasn’t going to happen and when I finally surrendered to the cliché’ “it is what it is”, the phone call came in. I had one days notice that my children were flying out the next day. It was July 4, 2010. Independence day….
What I thought I had been waiting to hear for months, now felt like a blow to my stomach. I wasn’t ready. I became overwhelmed with nausea. I started to panic. I would be away from my children for 6 whole weeks. Never been done before. All these thoughts started racing through my mind, all the “what if’s”, woulda, coulda’s and shoulda’s. I wasn’t going to be able to kiss those tender little eyelids and temples for 6 WEEKS. Never have I before experienced such separation anxiety, such angst, and such anger at their dad for leaving them and creating the need for airline commuting.
I am all over the board with emotions. On one hand I am happy that our babes are in the arms and safety of their Dad. On the other hand I am the one who is having the separation anxiety, and experiencing the growing pains now. After I held the last two beats in my heart, kissed their eyelids and warm temples one last time and put them on the plane, I had an hour-long conversation with their dad. We chatted, I bawled, he comforted, I gave “instructions”, he laughed, I cried, I laughed and as I watched the plane that was carrying my lifelines across the miles to be with their dad, I surrendered.
I surrendered to the anxiety, I gave in to the growing pains, I was the one who gets to experience Independence Day. Separation Anxiety, Growing Pains, Independence Day. No accident…My children are growing up, but they will never grow out. I am growing right along with them. Independence is a good thing. The pain is temporary, but the love created is lifelong. No matter how far they go, they will never out grow. I am Mom. He is Dad. They are the bridge connecting our hearts.
