Tag: holidays

My New Complicated Family Turns 25: December 2018

On By BarryIn After Separation

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.

Reflections on Remembrance Day, 2019

On By BarryIn Grandparent

Thank you to the children and teachers of Smithson Junior Public School for a Remembrance Day to cherish.

Don Cherry’s ‘you people’ rant on Hockey Night in Canada unfortunately diverted attention from the growing support for our military, past and present.

I was a fortunate child and grandchild, for my gramps and dad survived war zone service in WW1 and World War11, respectively, and as such were integral to who I am today. Remembrance Day, for this writer, is always a melancholy journey, a mixture of gratefulness, pride and family renewal to be the best of them, in my own imperfect way.   

They rarely recounted stories of their military service and the horrors of Gallipoli or the fears and uncertainty from the almost daily, nighttime bombings of Great Britain. Upon their return, they took up day to day living, often in occupations that were taken out of necessity, in order to provide opportunity for their families.

Peace fought for and won with great cost would hopefully quiet their troubled memories of loss and personal trauma.

It was with these thoughts and seventy-five years of life behind me (thanks to my father’s survival) that I entered Smithson School at 10:15 on November 11th to be in the company of my seven year old granddaughter, Mollie. She was unaware that I was coming and as she looked about she spotted this grandpa and her face lit up with a smile almost too big for her face. I was reminded of my good fortune, luck, and fate to be in this place, at this time.

 I remembered my veteran dad and grandfather; and all the veterans who suffered losses for their family and unknown families from faraway places.

As the young children entered the assembly, parents, grandparents, children and grandchildren found each other in a similar fashion to Mollie. Some parents jumped to their feet and waved until I feared they would injure themselves. Almost in every case the children were more reserved because the Smithson teachers had prepared them for the solemnness of the ceremony.

I took in the scene-never completely turning my eyes from my granddaughter, in case she flashed her now toothless smile that melts my heart. I was again aware of the diversity, in every possible way, of the Smithson School community, and the blessing for parents and grandparents to have our children being raised in an environment of acceptance, tolerance, generosity and caring.

There were no ‘you people’ in this gathering!

 The formal program recognized and honoured loss, lessons were provided, and a hopeful, future path was offered to our children, grandchildren and the audience through readings, poems, songs and a children’s story. All done in a respectful, thoughtful and age appropriate way.

The Last Post was powerfully done by a Smithson teacher. Our children then exited calmly and quietly. Parents and grandparents behaved appropriately (not a certainty) following the Last Post and avoided the not so subtle ‘look’ or raising of a hand (quiet …please) by a Smithson teacher.

As I reflected on the occasion, I believe that I had witnessed in this small, urban school the best of the Canadian ideal. The Canadian experience has been and perhaps always be an imperfect journey; but these 45 minutes left me more hopeful for the future than when I entered.

I could hear my grandpa and dad by my side saying thank you Smithson community:  ‘YOU DID YOURSELVES PROUD! ‘

Oh, For the Gift Again of a Little Summer Adventure on Father’s/Grandfather’s Day!

On By BarryIn Fathers, Grandparent

It was Monday morning and I had decided to go to our office early. At mid-morning I spoke by phone to my daughter who informed me that she was going to take her youngest children to her mother’s cottage. She wondered if I wanted to see the two boys, then 18 months and nearly three, before they departed.

The oldest child upon my arrival moved quickly to get his sandals in anticipation of an adventure. The youngest was quietly observing his brother; soon his tears demanded that he be included in the outing. He did not need to worry!

Our little adventure was to return to what I have designated as our Park; a place for this writer of so many fond memories as a father and grandfather. Today my adult kids are more likely to fire off a gentle, verbal dig by reminding their dad of their childhood pleas: “We are too old for the swings and those animals have had better days”.

 The words ‘better days’ hurt the most as I reflected that like the park’s black bear of olden days, I too have seen better days.

As I set out, I realized that I am a fortunate grandpa to have a new, eager, ‘more grateful generation’ of children to mould to the joys of our family Park. So off we went with the oldest grandson identifying every farm and construction vehicle ever built by John Deere and Caterpillar. His little brother squealed and hummed to a selection of Itsy, Bitsy Spider.

We soon arrived at our destination and the ducks surrounded our car, impatiently awaiting grandpa’s liberation of their young friends from the shackles of car seats.

It was a beautiful morning, perfect temperature, and our Park was alive, as a gentle breeze spread the joyful and boisterous sounds of children, parents and grandparents creating new memories.

My oldest grandchild scurried down the winding path toward the peacocks and their rooster friends. He found them sunning themselves and preparing to entertain their little admirers. But for us this is a momentary stop along the way to our primary target, feeding the deer and the llama. What the heck is the plural for llama anyway? My oldest grandson knew the routine well. He tore at the longer strands of grass and carefully positioned each so the llama (?) that he calls camels would be satisfied.

The feeding exercise is always a little unnerving, even for an experienced grandpa. My daughter- for an unintended outcome- could revoke my day pass with the little ones i.e., animal teeth marks on my grandson’s feeding hand would likely lead to a cancellation of future outings.

 Mothers can be terribly protective!

These outings have a certain rhythm. Our yellow brick path always includes visiting our different friends- the miniature horses, goats and of course the fishpond. The return of the piglets this day provided an additional, scented delight as our path soon turned in front of the well-stocked, mini pond and waterfall.

Soon it was time to retrace our steps with warm farewells to each of our animal friends. I was in particularly good spirits because we had escaped a reprimand from the young park staff for feeding the llama/camels. In the past if the staff catches us, I always point at my young companion with the grass/feed in his hand as the culprit. They are rarely persuaded though and are intent on holding the gray-haired kid responsible. I suspect they figured out that I am the only kid old enough to read the posted signs.

                              DON’T FEED THE LLAMA

                           sometimes known as CAMELS.

To celebrate a joyful outing, I decided that ice cream was a necessary reward. We soon became three spoons competing selfishly for more than our share of a giant mound of vanilla ice cream. Finding the target for each spoonful seemed less important to the combatants than securing the biggest payload. Soon the giant mound was reduced to a few melted drops to be licked from the container. I leave the rest to your imagination.

It was time for the short trip home. As I secured the little ones into their seats, I remembered being so grateful for such a joyful experience, a gift that was not a certainty in our family’s life.

I was reminded of that truth as I initiated our departure toward our Park’s ring road. Passing in front of me were two, old friends. They are wonderful and loving parents and grandparents; yet they were pushed aside- made invisible grandparents by the family, separating process in this country.

The riches of my day embarrassed me at that moment.

As we approached the children’s home, I remembered wavering on whether to reveal that illegal, pre-lunch, celebratory ice cream thing to my daughter.  I realized that secrecy was unavailable when I spotted grandpa’s post ice cream cleanup had failed miserably.

The children ran to their mom’s open arms with wide smiles and evidence on their jerseys of their outing with grandpa. I knew from my daughter’s half smile that she was recalling her childhood outings many years earlier to our same family Park …and that vanilla ice cream was occasionally… well o.k. always dad’s way to conclude a wonderful adventure.

Father’s Day is about celebrating a dad’s love for their child and their child’s child which endures forever in every family form. That love should be cherished and valued every day. That is the only gift desired by the dads who have been inspirational in my life.

Have a joyful Father’s Day!

A father’s love is forever, through whatever

On By BarryIn Alienation, Fathers

This article originally appeared in The Waterloo Region Record on July 2, 2015.

The Record’s Father’s Day weekend edition — specifically the June 20 story “More men go for parenting advice” — was disappointing and troubling for the implications about the importance of the role of fathers in the life of their family.

Taking a parenting course is admirable and enriching, but dads everywhere — even those who don’t take such a course — are doing the parenting role every day in different ways.

Sometimes it is done by driving a truck five days a week, beginning at 6 a.m., to provide for the family; it is done by coaching every sport imaginable; it is done by reading to or with their children after a long work day; it is done by warm hugs and encouraging words, and it is done through love and support in countless ways.

The Record’s almost non-existent approach to Father’s Day reminds me of Amos’ lament and resignation in the song “Mister Cellophane,” from the musical “Chicago”: “Cause you can look right through me. Walk right by me, and never know I was there.”

The research on the importance of fathers is vital for the doubters about a father’s role in positive outcomes for children. The doubters are not, however, dads. We knew our importance from the moment our child was placed in our arms: namely, to love our daughters and sons forever, through whatever.

There are no conditions on that love and support, and no course required.

The same research cited in the Record article reveals what every father knows: Becoming a father, being a dad, was and is the transformational event in their lives

In an interview with the Toronto Sun this past winter, Toronto Raptors point guard Kyle Lowry captured eloquently this common truth about fatherhood:

” ‘But … fatherhood, that changed everything. He’s (his three-year-old son Carter) done more for me than I’ve done for him. He’s a bigger influence on my life. It made me more of a man. It made me more of a grown-up. It made me more mature. It made me understand that life is bigger than just basketball …’ “

The headline on The Record’s article on parenting advice gives the sense that being a dad is provisional, something that can be minimized by whether one stepped up and took a course. Fathering is under attack in subtle, and not so subtle ways.

I am reminded of a 2012 Record story about a Kitchener father who was arrested at his child’s elementary school, moved to a holding cell and strip-searched. His children and wife were separately interrogated by Family and Children’s Services.

The reason for all this? His four-year-old daughter drew a picture in class of her father and her shooting imaginary dragons with a toy gun.

Every professional involved preferred (or chose) the negative image of Sansone. No apology was forthcoming because all the protocols were followed. Sansone, in an interview later, posed an interesting question that professionals were unable or unwilling to answer: “How do you tell a criminal from a father?”

At 71, I know I am an imperfect father and grandfather. I also understand the most significant and enduring gift that I received from my father, and he from his father, was at the end of the day a simple one, namely that a father’s love is forever, through whatever.

It is worth celebrating. It is worth strengthening. The magic is that it endures forever — from child to dad to grandpa.

As Kyle Lowry said, “But … fatherhood, that changed everything.”

Fortunately, families everywhere celebrate that reality one family at a time.

A Father’s Day Essay: On Being a Dad and Grandpa

On By BarryIn Fathers, Grandparent

“My boys’ dad is not an unpleasant obstacle; he’s an integral part of their lives.”

Jennifer Fink: A Wisconsin mother of two boys

Becoming a dad is transformational. It changes everything. It gives a purpose, a new priority to life that had been previously absent.  Fathers recall the moment when they became dad and the love and commitment made at that time to their child. Becoming a ‘separating’ dad also seemed to change everything in unexpected ways and threatened and risked every parenting relationship.

Recently a distraught father spoke to me about the emotional birth of his child. His eyes misted over as he talked about the infant’s serious health concerns and the oath/promise he made that first night to be at the child’s side, forever. He has kept his promise! He fears that like many separating dads he will be unable to navigate through the marital breakdown and keep his solemn commitment.  He doesn’t understand a process that seems determined to reduce his parental role and tear away at the best of who he is.

A father from our community wrote the following words that capture what many separating dads “grudgingly accept” in order to restore calm to their children’s lives.

His words: “…it’s the days you wake up with the kids and put your kids to bed that count. Full days with dad. I love them, my kids love them. The rest become transition days, you are excited to see them on one end and depressed to see them off on the other, emotional baggage that unchecked can pollute your limited time together.” (a separated dad)

I became a father in my own unique way through the courageous decision of a young woman to place her child up for adoption. I vividly recall the social worker placing him in my arms. Ten minutes later, she returned to ask if my wife and I wanted to keep him. I still laugh at the question—she didn’t seem to understand that he became my son, through whatever, the moment she placed him in my arms.

I remember that the adoption process was a time of anxiety, scrutiny and fear. Would we make the list of approved parents? Power rested in the perspective of the social worker and her mandate to ensure the best interests of that child. It was a difficult process, but one that you necessarily endured. Pushing back against the intrusiveness and judgment was not a viable option. My son and later my daughter had not yet been placed in my arms.

Curiously, the birth of my youngest daughter had no such intrusiveness or scrutiny as she was placed in my arms by a caring nurse in the birthing room.

The next years, no one questioned whether I was a full parenting partner or quite frankly whether I was the best of parents or the worst of parents or somewhere in between. I was dad!

The common bond of separated fathers commences the moment that the intimate relationship breaks down. It brings with it in some ways the scrutiny of the social worker EXCEPT that the children are your children NOT the children of social workers or lawyers, judges or the Canadian Bar Association. A separation with lawyers too often is a process built for finding differences, not for ensuring that children have both parents and grandparents in their daily lives. A separation with children is a long crooked path that requires ongoing support to meet the challenges of change. An initial, adversarial process is the wrong path to long-term cooperation.

“My boys’ dad is not an unpleasant obstacle; he’s an integral part of their lives.” (Jennifer Fink, a Wisconsin mother from Building Boys)

This insight comes from a Wisconsin mother who originally fought a determined battle in Court in an attempt to minimize any participation by the dad in her boys’ lives. The Wisconsin family court justice ‘insisted’ that Wisconsin’s presumption of shared parenting applied. The boys would have their father as an ‘integral’ part of their lives forever.

 Think about Ms. Fink’s wonderful adjective ‘integral’ to describe the parenting relationship for each parent now. A definition for ‘integral’: necessary to the completeness of the whole. Imagine a community where ‘the completeness of the whole’ (our child) is the foundation for supporting separating/separated families in our community.

 Canada’s Parliament rejected (2015) the Wisconsin’s presumption of shared parenting strategy intended to accomplish the ‘completeness of the whole’.

Shortly before starting our little agency (2005) I met a teenage boy age 14. His parents had separated several years earlier. The son had written a note to his parents for Mother’s Day/Father’s Day acknowledging and thanking them for ensuring that he had both of them in his life and as such an ‘almost normal upbringing’. In doing so he realized that through their cooperation he was able to learn who he was- an impossibility if either parent had faded away or vanished from his life. He recognized the gifts of character that were part of him-his mother’s sense of humour and joyfulness, his father’s gentleness and generosity.

These parents remembered the oath they made together to their son some 14 years earlier. They knew that both of them and their extended families were necessary to the completeness of their son. It remains an ongoing journey …for a lifetime.

Acknowledging and supporting each parent’s contribution to the child’s ‘completeness’ provides the opportunity for a family to build ‘integral’ parenting relationships that endure forever. It is my belief that our community has an obligation to develop strategies that best ensure the completeness of the whole. I have yet to hear any leader-legal, counselling, social worker or funder in our community give a public voice to such a mission. Silence is a strategy that effectively maintains a broken and destructive system.

A year ago at sunset I was on beach on the Gulf of Mexico with my 3 year old granddaughter. We were accompanied by probably 300 mothers, fathers and grandparents all quietly standing in awe of this shared, family experience. As the sun set everyone broke into applause as one. My father and gramps were with me in spirit, hand in hand, with the little one. They were an integral part of the completeness of my whole and thus of my children and grandchildren.

 It was a spiritual connection of three generations at that moment and a connection that must be cherished and nurtured by all.

My heart goes out to those of you facing the pain of interrupted parenting or worse. I faced such with each of my children at different times in the early years of the separation. That I am an integral part of each of their lives (and now six grandchildren) was more than uncertain at one time. You must find the supports to survive the despair and to find your way to a calmer place. I always believed (hoped) that the relationship that I had with each child during the intact years would sustain our relationship through the dark times…and in the end it did.

A child changes each man’s identity forever. In the past decade I have been so fortunate to have met so many courageous, creative, unique, gentle, compassionate, caring, generous, resilient and involved fathers, mothers, stepmothers and grandparents. I am a better person for knowing you. More importantly your gifts of character to your children – already given-are part of your child’s growth on their journey to ‘completeness of the whole’-with more still to come. Each of us must be prepared for new opportunities. They can occur at the most unpredictable of times.

Kyle Lowry perhaps captured best the gift of fatherhood in a Tor Sun interview. ‘But …fatherhood that changed everything. He’s done more for me than I’ve done for him… He’s a bigger influence on my life. It made me more of a man. It made me more of a grown-up. It made me more mature. It made me understand that life is bigger than just basketball…’

Please take care.

My Complicated Family Turns 20: December 2013           

On By BarryIn After Separation

            

‘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 4th, 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.