Fathers Day should be a celebration of paternalism and love, but for me it’s a day where I am filled with a hollow sadness and an uncomfortable ache. It’s a stark reminder that my inability to manage a broken relationship has terrible consequences.
Divorces are tough sons of bitches, but divorces with children…now that’s the toughest of them all. One day they are there and the next they are gone. It’s the small things that produce the most damaging shards. The silence around the house, the omission of the once-in-a-while glimpse as they run into the kitchen for food and drink before once again disappearing in their bedroom; the bedtime ritual of storytelling, hugs and kisses and the morning ritual of the second kiss – the one where you pause momentarily to take in the beauty, where you tell yourself “I created that,” before kissing him softly on his forehead so you are careful not to wake him.