Seven Years Of Abandonment
Seven years ago today, my ex left. Seven. Years.
It’s weird, how time moves. There are days when I think of him, and it feels like just yesterday he was still around. Like I could walk around the corner at the grocery store, and see a different husband standing by our cart. Or I could wake up in the morning, and roll over to see a different face. There are shows that I’ll watch, that I used to watch with him, and be caught off guard when I realize I’m watching it alone. It’s an eerie feeling that sneaks up on me in the most ordinary of moments, triggered by some alignment of senses that bring the past back to life.
I had one of those moments last Friday night, when I was getting The Girl Child ready for the daddy daughter dance. Something that I had done almost exactly seven years ago; the last night that she had a biological “dad.”
I had gotten her ready for the dance, told her she was a princess, and the very next morning, her prince turned into a pumpkin and vanished; never to be seen by her again.
Over the years, I’ve replayed that night over and over again in my head. Wondering if he knew all along that he was leaving the next morning, and thanking God that when he did, he brought my child back first.
Now here I am, seven years later.
I see him in my children’s faces. My daughter will smile at me, and through it, I will see my ex. He wasn’t always such a monster. Or maybe he always was, and just hid it better at first. I’ll probably never know, and I’ve learned to be OK with that.
I was with my ex for ten solid years. That’s just as long as I’ve had my daughter, and less time than I’ve had without him. Yet most days, the days where I think of him, feel one hundred years away.
That’s not my life anymore.
On Friday, I posted about the Daddy Daughter Dance, on Facebook. The Guy was taking the Girl Child, and after they’d left, the magnitude, of the simplicity of it all, hit me.
Seven years later, I know that I have so much to show for what I’ve gone through, so it’s funny that when I take a step back and look at it, what I see, simply looks like a normal life.
“Normal,” is a state yearned for by people in chaos, and ironically, also the monotony of people wanting something better. It’s a place of existence that desperate people wish for, and yet the ones living it, find themselves wishing for something more.
Not every joy in life is accompanied by a parade. Sometimes the biggest blessing, is in being content.
Friday, February 9th, Facebook:
When my daughter was in preschool, she went to her first Daddy Daughter Dance. Dressed in a little pink dress, she twirled in circles, and threw her arms around her father’s neck. In the morning, he walked out of our home, and her life, forever.
For the next few years, she went to the annual Daddy Daughter Dance with a good friend of ours. He treated her like royalty, and she always had an amazing time, but she never failed to ask me when she would get a “real” daddy, or if she ever would. I’d tell her that I loved her more than a whole room full of daddies, but if I’m being honest, I had the same questions as her. Would I ever meet anyone worthy of my daughter’s love? Could anyone ever love her like I did?
Tonight was her last Daddy Daughter Dance. Presenting her with a little box, my husband, her “new” father hung a heart around her neck engraved with the words “To my daughter; you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you know, and loved more than you could ever imagine. Always remember that.” He then put on his Flamingo suit coat for the 80’s themed dance, and despite the casual dress code, he added dress pants, and a tie. “Because she is worthy of a man who dresses up for her, and I want her to remember that.”
So even though this answer may come a little bit late, and we’ve already known this for a couple years now, I just wanted to circle back around and answer the question that I was asked by a tearful little girl in a princess dress, year after year for several years in a row; Yes sweet girl, there is a daddy out there who loves you like I do. More than you can even imagine.
He may not have known you always, but he will be here to love you forever.