Almost 28 years ago on my last night in the family home, I chose to fall asleep on the floor beside my youngest daughter’s (just turned 12) bed, hoping that somehow, she would know that I loved her forever. I feared that her age placed her at the most vulnerable age.

The next morning would be my last in the intact, family home. There was no single, triggering event, simply two people who had grown apart and failed to take care of each other over the latter years.

It was all done in a ‘civilized’ manner. Neither parent understood really what their reaction would be; nor the devastating way in which every family relationship would be at risk.

 Immediately on leaving the matrimonial home, I was overwhelmed by the possibility of the loss of my children (19, 16, and 12). The first night absent from my home brought dark thoughts. I returned to ‘my’ home the next morning to explain my unrest; the conversation was difficult and unsuccessful.

My 16-year-old daughter chose to join me and returned to the one bedroom, where I had arranged to live in the short term. Now, my new status included my oldest daughter. It is probably an overstatement that it was lifesaving, but at the time, her choice reaffirmed that I was still dad.

 Thankfully, the darkest of thoughts never returned.

When you enter the separating environment, the only certainty is the lack of certainty. Every family relationship and every other, significant relationship feels as if it is under scrutiny and judgment. An intimate relationship with children that was happy has now been exposed as a ‘failure’ with all the questions that come with the territory.

Each parent needs a supporting thought to hold on to during the initial days, weeks and months.

I would suggest the following as a guiding principle.

Remember. You are still a parent. You still have a family! (Isolina Ricci: Mom’s House, Dad’s House).

The bedroom that my daughter and I shared for that first week didn’t feel like a new single parent home; it felt like and looked like failure! After that first week, I found a basement apartment, maybe fit for a poor student. The only real room had a divider for privacy and a shower in the hallway. For a middle-class teacher and daughter, it too felt and looked like failure! This was followed by a more traditional apartment furnished in Spartan style.

 I lived in that ‘style’ for close to 3 years.

As you can tell, I had not read or implemented Ricci’s counsel that I was a new family. It contributed to my sense of failure as father, provider and intimate partner.

Barbara Coloroso describes single parent and blended families as ‘families born of loss and hope’. For many separating parents and children, the journey going forward is a tug of war between loss and hope. For many dads, a separation is initially dominated by loss of children and the family home. So, the initial experience of being pulled toward the darkness is common. When the separating process becomes chaotic through parenting loss, hope is difficult to imagine.

  ‘Stepfamilies, foster families are all as real as the traditional family.’

– Barbara Coloroso: Parenting Through Crisis

The concept of being a ‘legitimate family’ in a separation is almost always with the parent with majority parenting time (usually mothers). There are so many forces – legal system, family law, social service bias and even family and couple friends- who see you living without the children most of the time. The family as they knew it resides elsewhere. It feels like failure, too.

To be heard by the different bodies above requires patience, civility, relentlessness, resiliency and commitment to be a parent… through whatever.

In My New, Complicated Family Turns 20, many of you in blended, second, reconstituted, subsequent, etc. families found something to take away for your own journey together. I have also included an amazing essay by one of our stepmothers about their incomprehensible, but too common journey. Please read: My New Family Matters Too!

Another 5 years has passed and our 25th anniversary is a milestone to be celebrated. Elaine and I have reflected on the early chaos and the naiveté that love and caring for each other won the day. While they are essential ingredients, they did not provide the certainty of an enduring intimate relationship or the successful creation of a complicated, new family with children.

‘But in the remarried family, the stepparent-child relationship begins much later. It’s rooted not in the child’s birth but in the early days of the second marriage, which means it begins differently and runs a separate course… It’s a relationship that starts midstream, it’s more challenging for both of you. And it’s a triumph for everyone in the family when you, the stepparent, become a really important person in your stepchild’s inner world.’

– Judith Wallerstein: What About The Kids

The ‘triumph’ never seems to be complete; but that I believe is the consequence of the obstacles that were so formidable during the early weeks, months and even years. One is often reminded of those early days at special occasions for children/stepchildren as they pass through different stages of their lives. There will be hurtful moments, hopefully unintentional, in each relationship as they build toward understanding, respect and trust.

New, complicated families are about acknowledging everyone’s past; but not being stuck’ by the past. Every new couple must take control of their own destiny and their future.

To that end I did a miserable job …for some time. I have lapses even decades later. Elaine made sacrifices and choices, waiting for me to recognize my errors. There are times, when a separated dad with children, has little room except for the fear that they are losing their child… perhaps forever. That continuing fear is perhaps the greatest threat to new relationships with children.

Our 25th anniversary is about honouring Elaine for sacrifices too often undervalued or even loss to the chaos that destroys so many loving, new families. It is for being a partner in building and rebuilding relationships with each of my children. It is for becoming a co-grandparent to now 6 grandchildren who fill our lives with love, joy and good chaos. It is for honouring me with her love and support as a person as well as a life partner. It is for pulling back when I was blinded by the past.

Thank you for finding my hand through it all; and allowing me to find your hand… always.

25 years ago, the children barely knew you. They were wounded by the chaos and struggles of life at that time. You built a loving and caring relationship with each, day by day, so that they care and respect you for what you have brought to their lives. Most of all, they recognize your gifts of love and support to their wounded dad.

 Hope began 25 years ago and is found in every family relationship that now includes 6 grandchildren.

            

‘For me, as the woman and new wife behind the man, I have done everything asked of me to fight this battle. I love my husband and my son loves his stepfather and this is why I choose to stay; but I’m very tired…almost all the time.’

– Excerpt from My Family Matters…Too! written by a subsequent partner, mother and stepmother

Twenty years ago (Dec. 4, 1993) I took the marital plunge for the second time. It was the first marriage for my wife. 

About a month ago I turned to my wife as we were appropriately watching an episode of ‘The Good Wife’ and blurted out: “You realize this anniversary is a small miracle”.

She was silent for a moment and replied: “ A small miracle?” 

She was correct. I used to cry a lot. I could often be found rocking in my only real piece of furniture (no legs missing), facing inward toward the wall. I was a mess, a poor risk.

This past year I met many new couples struggling to build an enduring relationship following a dad’s separation.

The underlying fear (may last forever) for a separated dad is that their relationship with their children is at risk. The fear only recedes during their weekend or midweek parenting. The children’s return to mom’s house brings an eerie silence to his place. Silence has become his enemy!

It is the difficult task of a non-custodial parent to reconcile and accept the parenting inequity. They have to learn to deal with the pain…for their child’s sake… for their own sake …and for the sake of any new relationship. 

The challenge to a serious, intimate relationship is managing these intertwined relationships: namely, to maintain/rebuild the dad-child relationship and to build a loving, enduring, new partnership through the chaos and unpredictability. 

 The shame is that many loving relationships are unable to navigate safe passage. 

Many dads almost immediately stumble into being a non-custodial (part-time) parent. A legal system that takes pride in so called ‘no fault’ divorce makes judgments and choices about parenting. A father intent on securing calm for his children is often left on the outside, his face pressed against the window to his children’s lives.

In the non-custodial parent’s life, holidays and birthdays with children are rarely celebrated on the actual date. Information (school, medical) on his children often is delivered second hand, weeks late or not at all.  A non-custodial parent may feel like an intruder in their children’s school, even in their lives. 

New partners face the same challenging complications of unpredictability only with an additional layer of angst- their views on parenting and what they need as a couple are often treated as less important, less relevant by a dad dealing with the heightened risk of parenting loss. 

‘You are important, you are a parent, you still have a family.’    

– Isolina Ricci: Mom’s House, Dad’s House

         

The Christmas season was/is a reflection of our family’s 22+-year journey through the chaos and madness to our family’s version of calm. I offer this as a tribute to my wife and the other new life partners who have helped dads find love, companionship and calm through the madness.

During my first Christmas outside the matrimonial home I agreed to return for gift opening and Christmas dinner (including my extended family). A reasonable thing to do? The reality was that it was about pretending that nothing had changed when everything had changed. It had costs for everyone.

The second Christmas was to be about a lesson learned. I would only open gifts with the children in the matrimonial home. No Christmas dinner. That meant my first Christmas dinner since forever without my children. My parents added another complication with their arrival for gifts and dinner. By that evening my thoughts kept repeating: ‘my children, my matrimonial home, my parents, and where am I again?’ Feelings of loneliness, despair and betrayal overcame me. The rocking chair became my home!

In some ways Christmas also mirrored life during our courtship. There were occasions when dating paused with no guarantees of a restart. I thought that my responsibility was to fix (end) everyone’s pain. My wife laughs now at my use of the term courtship and asks, “Did I miss it? When was it?”

My wife’s gifts during the ‘courtship’ stage were life changing! 

Her faith and constant reassurance that I was a caring man and a loving father came at a time when I questioned everything about myself. She was my partner to recovery.

By Christmas #3 we were married (just three weeks earlier). What should have been a joyful moving-on Christmas was flat and empty. My father had a stroke two months earlier and he never recovered. The chaos of the post-separation had left our family wounded and now claimed my father as a victim. 

Christmas #4 and #5 were to be our coming out party. We would have a family brunch – a Lillie tradition. We fretted that no one would show up. I insisted that everything should be the way (actually identical) the children were used to. We couldn’t risk doing something different. I can only wonder now why my wife didn’t sit me on my rocking chair with the following order: “Don’t move until you see the error of your ways.”

Recognizing my error was incredibly important. New traditions enrich your children’s lives. It was also about my acknowledging my wife’s grace, style, humour, intelligence, wisdom, etc. to my children. Just as she displayed her faith in the wounded me, it was my time to demonstrate my faith in her.

Over the years there have been even more difficult occasions when she called me out for my failure to find the balance between a dad’s ‘original fear’ (the one that never leaves) and making our relationship all it should be. Each occasion was a reminder that the journey is now our shared journey and the risks are now our shared risks.

As I look back, I realize that my children came to respect her for what she gave to me and her unique, valued contribution to their lives. They understand now as adults the difficulty of her journey and the sacrifices she made along the way. Their acknowledgment of such was an important step for her and me,

Our family will now gather for our umpteenth Xmas brunch in our no-longer-large-enough condo (with all the children and grandchildren) and all the trappings and beauty brought to our home by my wife. I will likely cry – a tradition. They will be tears of joy for our family’s miracle; and tears shed for those of you still on the uncertain path to your own complicated family.

The family home that I was at a loss to build during the early separation became dad’s house 20 years ago on December 4^th, 1993.  I soon realized that ‘we might have something pretty good here’ when my children referred to our place as ‘dad and Elaine’s home’.   

A miracle?

A few weeks ago, as we left the theatre on a cold, dreary evening. My arm dropped by my side and her hand instinctively found mine. My thought was that the ‘miracle or not’ was revealed in that act – that we were able to find each other’s hand in the best of times, but even more importantly during the inevitable chaos and adversity.

My Christmas and New Year’s hope is that everyone who is part of the Kids ‘n’ Dad extended family may find their way to build a dad’s home and even more.