My heart is so full from the sweet comments and emails I've gotten during this shitty rotten week. The last 18 months have mostly been spent either being angry or getting over being angry, and I was really surpised by the sadness that overtook me this week. I owe so many of you a big thank you.
As I'm sure anyone who reads here has figured out, Liam's father and I are splitting up. That sounds so dramatic, but it's not. It's been quiet and sad and inevitable, and we're just trying to do things the right way so that Liam feels safe and protected.
It has been a sorry journey to get here, and honestly this would have happened a long time ago if I hadn't been so afraid; of being a single parent, of supporting Liam on my own, of growing old alone. But the truth of the matter is that for quite a while I've been a single parent in most of the important ways. S has spent very little time at home for the past year or so, and the chaos that his frequent absences created (and my anger and resentment over them) have made this a very unhappy home for me and for Liam for a long time now.
Just before S had his little come-undone, he stopped going to work and I became the sole support of all of us. I was freaking a little bit, but I figured I could swing it for awhile without killing myself, and that pretty soon S would find a new job and everything would go back to what passed for normal around here.
I was wrong.
I found that I was unwilling to get up every day at 5:30 and get Liam off to school, work from 7:00 to 4:00 or so, do all of the laundry and cleaning and shopping and most of the cooking, not to mention taking care of Liam, so that S could sleep late, play on the computer or the Playstation, watch TV, eat like a field hand and leave any night he took a notion and stay gone all night, all the while neither working nor looking for work.
I tried to be patient (not one of my virtues, I'm afraid). He's Liam's father and I want him healthy. But this went on for weeks, and when I spent most of Mother's Day consoling my crying child because "Daddy forgot we exist" and "Daddy doesn't even care that I'm waiting for him," that was it. I was done.
The amount of pain I've felt over the breakup of my little dysfunctional family has been an unwelcome surprise. Even though S and I were never a big love match like some lucky couples, there was a time when we cared enough about each other to make this wondrous, beautiful child, and that feeling had been all lost in the constant angry storm of the past 18 months. I guess the pain was good in a strange way, because maybe now I'll come out of the ashes stronger.
We owe our boy better than he's been getting for a long time, and we both hope that with this step, we can be the parents he deserves and needs.