Tag Archives: parenting

my daughters, I love you

I stood on the mountain top again. I climbed to the top of the world and looked around a bit. The air is brisk and thin up here. There is a bitter wind that seems to leap frog up my spine. The view is breathtaking, but I muse that there isn’t much breath to be taking at this moment. I have already spent the time holding up my fists like a Rocky statue. I have yelled to hear the echo reminding me I am alive and alone. I sit in the crossed leg position and ponder life. I feel like the guru that is rumored to be at the top of the mountain. I sit and consider. I am not considering anything in particular, just musing. I am alive, alone, and have a leaped frog spine as I sit on the mountain top at the top of the world.

I have laughed and celebrated. Suddenly, I feel myself begin to weep. I am not sure where it is coming from and I know this is not a good oxygen choice. I can’t stop. I feel the pain of my daughters. I can feel their hurts and hearts. It screeches like a carrion bird, tearing at my soul. I want to fix it and to protect them, despite how they hold me away. I weep, my heart weeps, my soul weeps. If I had a guitar, it would gently be weeping as well.

I stop weeping and feel emotions from loved ones and loved ones lost creeping up my spine to be leap frogged by the wind. The emotions are bitter and run the gambit. They are foreign only in they aren’t mine. I have had similar feelings, but felt them as I feel them. Now I see these like the recognition of a childhood school mate decades later, familiar and foreign all at once. I am annoyed and embarrassed that I cant screen these out like I usually can. The thin air, the time alone, the wind chill has exhausted my defense and the emotions slither in. I’ve felt them before from these same sources. To be confronted with them again is painful. It is also a relief. It is a reminder I am alive, I am open, I am connected. More importantly, it reminds me that I love.

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Posted by on January 26, 2017 in children, life, Uncategorized


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I will miss you.

I am saying farewell to my daughters for awhile today. It was a few years ago that my older daughter spewed venom at me. She was victim to some very nasty parental alienation. She was very similar to me and her mother spoke of how much she hated me and how bad I was. It translated to my daughter that 1/2 of her was less than dirt. She rejected anything that was like me. Her anger increased as she couldn’t get away from herself. I listened to her read the letter that stated she would not see me again. It was filled with hate, venom, and barbed wire. I listened. I thanked her for her honesty. I stated I wished she didn’t have to feel this way, and that I love her. It was the last time I saw her for any length of time.

My youngest daughter is ready to live life without me. It has been very hard on her. The difficulty of trying to be in two places emotionally and in two different attitudes was ripping her apart. She has stopped contacting me at all or responding to my contacts.

I miss them. I tried everything I knew to do. Then I asked what else to do and tried that. I tried to hold on. I tried to fight.  But my holding and fighting seemed to only make it worse.

I thought of Solomon. Solomon stood before two women claiming a child as their own. The fight was brutal. He declared the child should be cut in half. The woman that couldn’t bare to see it was thought to be the mother. My fighting and holding has served to tear them apart. I have to let go. I cant hurt them anymore.

I thought of Hannah, mother of Samuel. She received a blessing from God and was totally willing to let it go. She released her son back to God.

I miss you. I love you. I release what I want more than anything.

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Posted by on May 11, 2015 in children, divorce


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There were 2 babies in the parable about Solomon tearing the baby in half to give one to each who claimed to love the child. The first child was being torn apart. One parent had made a mistake. IT caused the disagreement and the ensuing war. Still, there was love and tenderness. he longed to be with his children. The other parent was wounded. Their pride was damaged and out of fear and pain, poison had been given to the child to confuse the brain and cloud the soul. The only way to understand the child would be to look at her heart. The child wailed in pain and torment. The poison worked and fueled the anger and dismay. Solomon was frustrated and confused.
solomon baby
Both parents feigned caring. Both parents seem to want the child. He pronounced custody. The child wailed as she realized the torment would continue. One parent dropped to their knees. hearing the screams, seeing and feeling the pain, he let go. For now. He knew the child might not ever come back, the poison had gone deep and wide. However, he could not bare causing the pain he saw. He let go.

The other child swang on the hands of both parents. Happy and joyous, she seemed content and untainted. She loved well and she loved without reservation. It would be some time later. The poison spilled from the first onto the second. The parent who took the first, celebrated her victory of winning the child, lauded it over the second child as proof of how she should let go of the hand. He felt the hand slipping from his and tried to hold on tighter. He asked for help, he shared, he panicked, and he loved. Standing before Solomon again, he remembered the nights of horrific pain. He recalled the tears and torment. He felt the pain of letting go. He couldn’t imagine living through that again. He smelled the poison on his child and saw the venom oozing from the serpentine teeth of his former love. He prepared for a battle. He came to fight and win. There was a glimmer from the face of his child. He quickly glanced, wanting to keep his eyes on the attack. There was a single tear on her cheek. Her eyes seemed not lost, not angry, but confused.
He knelt down and dropped his weapons. He cried and told the child that he loved her with all his heart. He loved her, her sibling, and even her mother. He would always be ready to welcome her. He just couldn’t cause more pain. He let go of her hand.



The pain was excrutiating. The noise deafening. The smirk on the parents face as they led the child of joy away was nothing short of evil.

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Posted by on May 7, 2015 in children, divorce


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Ever have one of those days that things just seem off somehow? I am having one of those days. I cant really figure out what it is, so I am unsure how to fix it. I am just letting myself be off center. I went to a charity function last night. It was an auction and another silent auction. I love these kind of things. I went stag and milled around for a long time. I watched people and looked at the items. I was offered 2 tickets to this and I thought about trying to find a date or someone to go with. However, I finally decided that I would rather not have to be in an unfamiliar place in an unfamiliar town with an unfamiliar person. It seemed wise. I figured I would just find people to chat with anyway. I didn’t think about most of the people would be there with someone else. There were a few of us singles there. We nodded to each other in a secret gang style way. I passed by and lifted my eyebrows subtly. She flashed a knowing smile. I almost tripped on her walker. She farted as she passed as 90 year olds sometimes do. I figured I would hang with the younger singles. we laughed and giggled over the tree decorated like frozen and the Superhero one. We delighted in the tree that had three trains circling it. She also smelt of fart, until her mom changed her.

The mistake I made was drinking coffee there. I was tired, but just couldn’t sleep well. I got up at my usual time and went to a Sat am meeting. It was a good one. It is raining here and a little cold. I went to the weekly car auction and then came home. I watched the end of a romantic comedy. I put on my jammies and did some housekeeping. Still, I felt off. I just wasn’t all here. I organized my CDs and some books. I wrote a letter to my estranged daughters and cried. I figured out what was wrong. I miss my girls. I am so mad at myself for making the mistake that led to the divorce. I am so mad at their mother who kept irritating the wound until it festered and injured and scarred. I am mad at them for rejecting me so dramatically. But all that anger is just a protective coating for the hurt I feel.

I am not sure how to link the farting ladies of the night and missing my daughters, but they are both rattling around in my head. I don’t know, maybe both smell like poop.

Think I will go to another meeting. You know what? It has been a real mellow and good day. I got to sleep in, move some of the poop tainted air out of my life, tend to some tasks, and hang out with myself and process my emotions. I am warm, I am safe, I am loved.

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Posted by on November 22, 2014 in journey, life


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over it?

I thought I was over it.

I really did. I felt over it. I vocalized the right things. I said I was better off. I knew I couldn’t go back.

I thought I was over it.

I have been reading “Parents are Forever.” I was reading to help improve communication with my ex-wife. In the back of my mind, I really wanted her to just realize how bad the parental alienation is and to stop it. IT backfired a little. I saw some of the stuff I have been doing to stunt my own healing. I have reached out with memories of good times. I have picked fights. I have threatened lawsuits, subtly. I have felt rejected and humiliated. I reacted by fighting back ad retaliating instead of understanding and responding.

The book talks about the stages of grief. I have gotten stuck in bargaining and then depression. I was angry for awhile, but it honestly didn’t make me feel good. My ex is stuck in anger. (oops, that’s mindreading…it appears she is stuck in anger). However, the holding on to memories. The seething at her anger. The reaction instead of responding. Letting her control my emotions and set the tone with my relationship with the girls has held me down from healing.

I am not over it. I ache for my children. I really want to be with them and to be “Dad” again. I have done everything I could. It is time for me to reach acceptance in that relationship as well. They have made a choice I cant change. All I can be is who I am. All I can do is love them the best I can. Maybe, someday, they will come back. If not, I am still me. and I still have to live.

I am not over it. I need to let go of my ex. I need to know that her anger is hers to deal with. I need to lead a separate life in the healthiest way I can. I need to claim my mistakes, name my defects of character, and move on. Yes, it is scary. Yes, I need to do it alone. Yes, God will guide me.

I am not over it…but I will be


Posted by on July 17, 2014 in divorce


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Are you ready?

What a silly question that is. How would you ever be expected to answer that in any situation? I have asked that question thousands of times and am realizing that it is as arbitrary as, “How are you?” When I ask it, it is before doing something that someone has never done before or is fearing anyway. So, they would either not know or now have an added anticipation. Truth be known, I wasn’t really expecting a response, just like when I have asked, “How are you?” most of the time. (In all fairness, that was in the past. I actually ask it now wanting to know.)

It is also a wonderful question. It allows someone to check their emotions and state of being. It allows a moment of steeling oneself against the unknown or the feared. It is a verbal pause in the action. IT unites and says, “I am here with you as you go through this.”

“Are you ready for a miracle” played on my old battered CD player when my first child was born. “Its a wonderful life” played for the second.

I had a friend ask me that question, recently. We had been talking about the abrupt marriage of my ex wife. They were engaged 3 months after we divorced and married less than a year after. She is an angry, bitter woman right now. She is incredibly mean to me, but worst of all, uses the kids as weapons. She has orchestrated estrangement of one, and alienation from the other. IT has been brutal and disgusting. The friend commented that perhaps she uses the anger and hostility as a cover for love. They explained that in order to be ‘right’, she has to push me away and prove I am a jerk or her marriage was a mistake and all the evil things she has done are wrong. It would explain the letter to family and friends, the report to the medical board, stealing my computer, alienation from the kids, recruiting family and friends to hate me and reject me, lying to my family to gain favor…etc. I just don’t buy it. Its been 2 years since I left, 1 year since the divorce.

The friend pushed on. They asked if I was ready to move on. I said I was. They pushed even harder (did I say friend? 🙂 ) and asked if my anger was hiding something. They pointed out that I tend to be a recluse. They pointed out that I get very upset about the actions she takes with my daughters. They pointed out that I have gone from never talking bad about her to often calling her “nutty.”

I have been pondering that. The truth is that I still love her. I don’t want to be with her and I am not in love with her. I just remember that there is some good stuff about her. I try and hold onto it, but she keeps trying to pry the good memories from my hand. I wont let go. I have had dreams where we go back to before all the garbage and stay married etc. I was miserable and would be miserable since she didn’t want to do counseling with me. My only thought is then I could be with my girls. I could be ‘daddy’. I have even dreamt of her trying to reverse all the stuff she has done. That really wouldn’t work and I still wouldn’t want to be with her.

I have been pondering the question. I am totally ready to move on from her. I really have moved on from her and I am ready to be in love and in life. I cant be totally positive of that answer as I haven’t done it before, but I feel ready and excited about it. I am not ready to move on from my kids. They have rejected me as dad and I don’t really get to see them often. They refuse to call me dad, hug me, or tell me that they love me. I can forgive that as I know they are hurt and reeling. But I cant let go of them. I won’t. And since it is so important to me, that is what she uses to hurt me. I get it. I don’t like it. But if the cost of holding onto my kids as best as I can is getting hit by the broom like the three blind mice, I will.

Is that crazy of me? I know the whole if you love something, set it free…nonsense. I know you can hold too tight. I know it anchors me to the past and holds me back in moving on. It is an albatross. But can I really just walk away? OK, your turn, how do you navigate these shark infested waters?

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Posted by on June 27, 2014 in divorce, life


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time flies, time lies

time. time out, times up, wasting time, killing time, spending time, counting time, time to go, on time, more time, hurry up time, time heals, time flies….time lies. Tick Tick tock, wind me up and ring my chimes…

I have been apart from my daughters for a stretch of time. The times have changed since I was a teenager in this town. It has been some time since I divorced, moved, started a new life. It has been a short time since my ex remarried. It seems like a long time away that my life will settle down at all. New job, new career, back to school, buying a new house, new surroundings. It seems like a long time before I will see my daughters again. tick tick tock

Time doesn’t seem to heal very quickly. It does it in its’ own time. And I think it lies about the past and makes a dream out of the future. The past is corrupted in its true vision. It is either rosy or very dark. Things are either great or awful. I blame flashbacks in movies, but it is really Time. Time demands to be attended to. Time demands to be lived each moment or the moment is gone. Time is a persnickity bitch. Time creates those waves that used to be used in 70’s sitcoms to represent flashback or future visions. Those waves distort the past and future. They can be spider webs of consciousness. We can get stuck in the distorted views of past or future and ignore the wailings of Time. tick tick tock

Time lies. The waves of past and future are lies about what really happened. They are a limited view of a much broader story. IT feels real as we join in the retrogressive groove. But it is distorted and in its distortion a lie. It tells us the future or past is better or worse than the current time. In reality, it will be what it will be and is as miraculous as we make it. wind me up

Time will tell. Unfortunately, it is when time is ready to tell when it will finally tell. Time hangs out with Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda, and Oughta. The regrets and the false hopes. Time uses them to screw around with our brains and hearts. We feel guilty or apprehensive. We feel wrong and inadequate. I cannot change what happened with my marriage or my daughters. I can’t go back and erase the past, no matter how hard I try. I don’t know if my daughters will ever call me Dad again or give me a hug again, but all I can do is live in this time. Time will tell.

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Posted by on June 24, 2014 in journey


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restless? write it down

Fear of rejection. Self esteem. Dang it…here it is again.
I was in a bad place today. I was reacting to everything with emotion. Everything was being done to me. I was restless, irritable, and discontent. I didn’t even see it. I reassured my daughter that going to an amusement park with her dad, despite how much I don’t like rides, would be fun. She was hesitant but I thought it would be good bonding time and maybe other people would come along, follow up on arrangements made. I knew they wouldn’t, but still pushed going. We went. They didn’t. She was bored. I tried to ride a few rides, but my stomach turned. I did ok, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do the spinning rides. Despite all the let-downs, I expected her to have fun. She didn’t and I was bummed out.
Fear of rejection. Fear of not being good enough.

I told the real estate agent I thought the electric box was illegal based on what the groundskeeper said. He refuted my statement. I held it together but was upset he didn’t take my uniformed word for it.
Fear of being incompetent or seen as stupid.

I faltered and avoided being direct on an invite to a party. I was feeling irritable, restless, and discontent and was going to a meeting. I didn’t think I wanted to be around people. She had to get blunt and tell me that I wasn’t coming. Finally, I answered that unless I felt much better after the meeting, I wasn’t. I couldn’t just say it.
Fear of rejection. Fear of not being liked.

Its all the same stuff. This has all showed up on my list before. I implored God and asked Him what it hasn’t gone away yet. I have done the work…oh wait! I have not been doing the work. I have been resting on my laurels.

I searched and searched the moral inventory. I felt the fear and drug it out in the light. The false events no longer appear real. Wahoo

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Posted by on June 21, 2014 in faith, journey, Uncategorized


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2 years and a BB gun

ITs been 2 years. 2 years since I left my house and family. 2 years since I practiced medicine. 2 years since my ex sent a letter to all my family, friends, pastors, and patients detailing what a bad guy I was. Its been 2 years since some of them passed judgment on me and stopped talking to me. Its been 2 years since my kids have said, “Happy Birthday, Dad.” or “Happy Father’s Day.” or even, “I had a good time, thanks.” Its been a long two years.

I had decided this father’s day would look just like the previous ones. My youngest daughter is with me this year for a few weeks over the summer. I had decided it is just the way she needs to heal and to ignore it. We were going to be taking my father to the airport and so had to leave the house a bit early. I got her up and nothing. She was pretty tired, so I ignored it. We ate breakfast and she got ready. Before we left, “Happy Father’s Day.” I stopped in my tracks. I made sure I heard what I thought I heard. My internal workings steamed up with the revelation that she had said it. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, as to not scare her away like a rabbit on the bike trail. I answered, “Thank you very much.” On the way to my Dad’s house, I fought back tears and the urge to explain in painful detail why that meant so much to me. I was able to stifle my impulse but did say, “Thanks again for telling me that, it meant a lot.”

I figured we were done. Later that evening, I went to change into my swimsuit. Next to my bed was a card and a crumpled piece of paper. I opened the card and read it. It was pretty funny and said, “Happy Father’s Day”. The crumpled piece of paper had a ribbon on it. I opened it and found a ghost keychain inside. When you pushed a button it made a sound (I assume it was supposed to be a ghost sound, but it is more of a squeaky wheel) and its eyes lit up. I just sat there. My heart leapt and my face fell.

Ive had some good presents in my day, but this is my Red Ryder BB gun with a thing in the stock that tells time.

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Posted by on June 18, 2014 in life


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unicorns and selfishness

My ex-wife gets married tomorrow. From what I am told, I should be more upset. It hasn’t quite been a year since our divorce. She made sure that everything was opposite from our wedding. Her engagement ring is a big gaudy thing. The wedding is outside, with a full bar at the reception. It is in June instead of January. They are wearing cowboy boots with their finery. Its pretty idyllic, I understand. The quote from the old neighbors and my daughter is that, “It will be a perfect start to the perfect marriage.”

I am a little concerned about it. Not really about her being remarried, but rather because of my kids. I miss them tremendously. My heart breaks when I think of someone else getting to be at home with them, getting to hear their stories, comfort the pains, rejoice the victories. They really have pushed me aside and that hurts more than anything my ex could do. She knows it and so encouraged the pushing.

I am a bit conflicted. One part of me really, sincerely, hopes the fantasy is real for her. There is a part of me that cares very deeply for her. I would enjoy seeing her be happy. The other part of me wants to kick the first part of me’s ass. The injustice and the bad-mouthing and the evil that has come forth is tremendous. The third part thought it would go back and be miserable so I could be with the girls. That part is lost in a fantasy as well. It would never happen and I would never do it. I have struggled this year. It hurt and left scars. However, I have changed. I will not accept being the walking dead. There are more parts but they are shades of the first three.

I have family and friends that are going to the wedding. I am so proud of my dad. Despite all this, my family has taken the high road. they have told me that they will have a relationship with my ex and that I had better understand that. Her family blocked my email and phone (…and they will know we are Christians by our love…).

Maybe that is why things have been so tough, so that I could be settled with the need to move through this. Maybe that’s why stuff had to be so difficult with my daughters, to distract me from the wedding. Maybe if I wish real hard, a unicorn will ride a rainbow out my butt.

I do wish her fiancé luck, but I miss my girls. I want to be Dad again. I want Father’s day back. I want to hear, and cry, and laugh, and forgive, and nurture, and be, with my girls again. My concern over the wedding is simply that it is another barrier to me being in their lives. I am not proud of my selfishness, but I cant seem to shake it. I am not a great father, or haven’t been. I am a good father, however. My best thing was borrowed from my mom. I would sing them “You are my sunshine” while scratching their back as they went to sleep. It was necessary to change the words to “The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I had a dream I ate a big marshmellow. When I awoke dear, my pillow was gone dear…” They were 10 before they stopped giggling at that.

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Posted by on June 6, 2014 in divorce, life


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