Today I woke up to a Facebook posting by The Rockstar that, lately, he has been faced with making all sorts of decisions, that it has been tough and that he might be moving.
I sat straight up and stared at my little iPhone screen, shocked. WTF?!
I called his father. No answer.
I called him. No answer.
I ran into Ladybug's room and woke her up demanding if she knew about Rockstar's plan to move. She groggily denied any knowledge. I fluttered from room to room. I texted his father.
I called Rockstar again. He called back.
I told him what I saw on Facebook. I asked him WTF is he thinking? He said he wants to grow up with his dad. I reminded him that his father due to his job is only there for two weeks every thirty days. Rockstar replied that he knew that but if he were living out there, he wouldn't have to wait a week to see his dad. I was hurt. I still am. Hours after this conversation, the bleeding hasn't stopped.
I told him that I shouldn't have found out via Facebook and that this was a conversation between his father and me and to tell his dad to call me when he woke up.
Ten years! Ten years! I said to myself in the mirror. I have taken care of him when his father left. I have made sure he got to school, played sports, got to the doctor/dentist/orthodontist/counselor. I have gone to every school function I could attend, cheered loudly for him from the sidelines of every game he played in, celebrated his wins and consoled his losses. I have laughed and cried with him. I protected his father's reputation and made sure that he developed a relationship with him. I have put my life on hold to make sure I do what's best for him and my other two children. His text response was: "... more opportunities for me to grow up and become a man out here..." that it wasn't about me, that he loved me and always would. blah blah blah
His father called. He does not agree with Rockstar. He thinks Rockstar should continue to live with me, not change his permanent address and when he is in town Rockstar can come stay with him. I was relieved to know I was not being ambushed.
My friends say for me not to take any of it personally, that it is just a function of his age (14) and that Rockstar will realize how much he does like it at home.
I replied that I try not to take it personally but after the years of many difficult conversations I have had with my children when they were extolling the virtues of being with their dad and his wife and her extended family because "that's what a family really is and we don't have that with you," it is very hard. Christmas 2011 my children chose to leave me alone so they could spend it with their step-mom and her family even though their father was NOT going to be there due to work. That was the loneliest Christmas I have ever experienced. I still hurt from that. And today's Facebook posting, subsequent conversations and text message with Rockstar resurrected that hurt and tore off any bandages I had. Yes, the bleeding continues.
I have done the best I could for ten years. I tried to have them understand that our little four-person unit was a family and that we needed to love and protect each other.
I can't write any more on this right now. In a day or so, when I have regained perspective, I'll continue. But for now, all I can say is I wish my gut feelings (like those referenced in the posting A new normal) could be put to use in picking out winning lottery numbers instead of predicting heartbreak.
Tourniquet anyone? Anyone?
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