He left on Thursday morning.
We suggested that our daughters not to share the news with anyone outside the family just yet. We’re still trying to understand how this plan, his plan, ‘the’ plan—an ‘experiment’ we told them–was going to happen and what it means for our future. With Daddy gone, I wasn’t sure how to answer questions.
Monday was the first day of school. Home from school, Babydoll broadcast her news that she stood in front of all her class and told the news. Watching my face at this announcement, Cutiepie, lowered in an uncertain tone, she said she too shared our summer news that Daddy had moved to New Zealand. I pushed the permanent knot further down my gut and managed a big grin and welcomed all the news of the new 5th class and 3rd classes.
It has now been six days and it has only felt worse each day. We hung three clocks: Dublin (home for us), San Francisco (home for extended family), and New Zealand (home for Dad). We set our Skype account to never log off. We go about our day, jumping at every electronic beep that might be Daddy skyping us.
Football and camogie games (one lost, one won), a sewage line unclogged, and walks with the dog filled our weekend. As I remind myself to check door locks at night, the notion of an all-girl family saddened me, but I’m committed to succeeding while inside I’m crumbling. On Sunday, between Uncle Ben and Pablo Picante I began sobbing when I couldn’t find taco shells in the Wexford Super Tesco. All I wanted was the commerical, pre-made, perserved 12 taco shell kit, one of only three Mexican dish food items they stock. The moment I saw the emptied shelf, my heart screamed for the simple corn tortillas found in San Francisco ready for frying and dishing up by scratch. Who exactly needs a kit to make a taco? What I want is a kit on how and where to be happy.
Knowing it would take more than guacamole and salsa to mend my broken heart, I covered my red rimmed eyes with sunglasses and headed home to get a hug from my girls.
The girls are giddy and curious with a nervous excitement for back to school and their dad’s move to New Zealand. I’m proud of them and really, it shows the naivety of children and their resilience. And yet, I still can’t stop thinking how decisions like these are defining their DNA.
It’s only been six days and I know when it’s 60 days gone by, it will be the girls who’ll come to me for hugs.
I’m willing to bet they won’t want to share the news with anyone then.
We suggested that our daughters not to share the news with anyone outside the family just yet. We’re still trying to understand how this plan, his plan, ‘the’ plan—an ‘experiment’ we told them–was going to happen and what it means for our future. With Daddy gone, I wasn’t sure how to answer questions.
Monday was the first day of school. Home from school, Babydoll broadcast her news that she stood in front of all her class and told the news. Watching my face at this announcement, Cutiepie, lowered in an uncertain tone, she said she too shared our summer news that Daddy had moved to New Zealand. I pushed the permanent knot further down my gut and managed a big grin and welcomed all the news of the new 5th class and 3rd classes.
It has now been six days and it has only felt worse each day. We hung three clocks: Dublin (home for us), San Francisco (home for extended family), and New Zealand (home for Dad). We set our Skype account to never log off. We go about our day, jumping at every electronic beep that might be Daddy skyping us.
Football and camogie games (one lost, one won), a sewage line unclogged, and walks with the dog filled our weekend. As I remind myself to check door locks at night, the notion of an all-girl family saddened me, but I’m committed to succeeding while inside I’m crumbling. On Sunday, between Uncle Ben and Pablo Picante I began sobbing when I couldn’t find taco shells in the Wexford Super Tesco. All I wanted was the commerical, pre-made, perserved 12 taco shell kit, one of only three Mexican dish food items they stock. The moment I saw the emptied shelf, my heart screamed for the simple corn tortillas found in San Francisco ready for frying and dishing up by scratch. Who exactly needs a kit to make a taco? What I want is a kit on how and where to be happy.
Knowing it would take more than guacamole and salsa to mend my broken heart, I covered my red rimmed eyes with sunglasses and headed home to get a hug from my girls.
The girls are giddy and curious with a nervous excitement for back to school and their dad’s move to New Zealand. I’m proud of them and really, it shows the naivety of children and their resilience. And yet, I still can’t stop thinking how decisions like these are defining their DNA.
It’s only been six days and I know when it’s 60 days gone by, it will be the girls who’ll come to me for hugs.
I’m willing to bet they won’t want to share the news with anyone then.
2 comments:
Oh Sherry! I'm so sorry about your situation. I hope you have some support. Sending you as many positive vibes as I can muster at this tough time. xx
This absolutely breaks by heart to read!! I'm so sorry this is happening. You have been through tough situations before, and unfortunately, life will likely continue to throw them our way. Your girls have strong DNA, just like their mom...don't forget it. And, it is okay to not be strong all the time; okay for the girls to see you are sad and afraid...it is reality, after all. Love you!!!
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