I’ve been a single parent for four months now, ever since September 16, 2013. One of the most challenging aspects of this new chapter has been answering the endless questions from my four-year-old daughter, Lily. Thankfully, my one-year-old son, Ethan, is still young enough that his inquiries are minimal; a few extra cuddles and a consistent nap routine keep him content for now.
One evening, Lily was crying for her dad, and as I held her close, I struggled to maintain my composure while quietly wiping away my own tears. I tried to explain that he still loves her deeply, but he made a choice to step away from our family. It’s often difficult to articulate the complexities of adult relationships to a little one who deserves clarity.
Even after four months since my marriage ended, I find myself crying almost every night, replaying Lily’s questions in my mind and searching for the right answers. It’s tough to keep it all together when I feel so fragmented. How do I manage my family, my job, my studies, friends, and social life, when some days I can barely muster the strength to face another moment? Patience seems elusive; my voice is often strained, and the daily tasks of motherhood feel overwhelming when all I want is to scream or retreat from reality.
What I grapple with the most is taking everything one step at a time. One day at a time. One minute at a time.
When I look at my children, especially Ethan, I see reflections of their father. The way his eyes and Ethan’s shift from bright blue to a stormy grey when illness strikes, the identical shape of their ears, and the sweet tooth inherited by Lily from those cozy evenings spent watching cartoons and indulging in candy. A part of him lives on in them, just as my essence does.
One day, they will be old enough to ask deeper questions, and I want to respond with honesty and love. To do this, I need to be intentional about fostering love in our home now. I strive to show them affection through my actions, speak lovingly to them, and discuss their dad in a way that is respectful and gentle. This has been the hardest task of my life—not allowing anger to take root in my already fractured heart.
Choosing to love my children more than I cling to resentment is a daily decision. Some days, I succeed; other days, I falter. There are countless moments—when they’re sick, when they’re cranky, or when they’re awake in the middle of the night—that test my patience. It’s easy to let frustration seep through when I feel exhausted and resentful that their father isn’t around to share the burden. But then I remember they are navigating the same feelings of confusion, sadness, and anger that I experience. I acknowledge our shared struggles while embracing the immense grace of their presence in my life.
So, I choose to love them. I hold them close when they weep, even when the dishes pile up in the sink and I long to collapse in front of the TV. I hold them when bedtime has passed, and I’m at a loss for what to do. I hold them and let go of the anger, bitterness, fear, and anxiety.
I pray for the strength to unclench my fists, allowing my pain to fall away, while enveloping my children in a love so profound it seeps into their very being. That’s all I can do.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the challenges and emotional complexities of single parenthood, particularly in the face of a recent separation. It emphasizes the importance of love, patience, and resilience while navigating the questions and feelings of young children. The author candidly shares personal struggles and the commitment to foster a loving environment amidst adversity.