Tonight the Streets Are Ours

And your father said, basically, that was my choice. I could choose grad school or I could choose spending all my time with my children, and I chose my children, I chose that freely, and so what reason did I have to be unhappy?

Making that choice made me feel like I mattered—I must matter, if my family needed me so much. And then I kept making that choice every day, until eventually it became too late for me to unmake it.

I kept thinking I would someday go back and finish my degree. But there was always something else to do. There was always a basketball practice or a parent-teacher conference or an upcoming Spanish test. I loved being so involved in the lives of my family, but at the same time I felt like I’d lost sight of myself. I only knew who I was in relation to somebody else. For years I was somebody’s wife, somebody’s mother, somebody’s friend, somebody’s daughter. And for once, I wanted to be somebody for myself.

I didn’t know how to find that in Cumberland. I felt like as long as I was in that same house and that same situation, I would keep making those same choices. So, I left.

I don’t know if this is anything you’ll be able to sympathize with, or if it will give you any peace to know all of this. I’m telling you because I hope that it will help, and because I think you’re old enough to hear what’s going on.

Your father and I are trying to work things out. We’re talking about all of these issues, and I’m hopeful that we can come to some sort of understanding, some way forward, so I can come home again. The bottom line is that I love you totally and completely, and I always have, and I always will. I would be happy to discuss all of this further with you. Or just to hear how you’re doing. You can e-mail or call me at any time.

Love,

Mommy

Arden stared at the letter for a long time, the words blurring together until they became just meaningless shapes. Then she tore it up into as many tiny pieces as she could, and she threw every last one of them in the garbage.





Stalking people, take two

It wasn’t fair of Arden’s mother to blame her running away on Arden’s dad. It was ridiculous and self-centered. Okay, so he didn’t do the everyday parenting. He rarely took Roman to sports games, collected Arden from school, managed their schedules, oversaw their doctors’ appointments and haircuts, set up playdates, or noticed when they outgrew clothes or finished a carton of milk. Yes, their mother did all that boring, mundane stuff. Give her a standing ovation.

But that didn’t make their dad a bad parent. On the contrary, when there was a big thing in his kids’ lives, their dad was first in line to document it with photos and video, or to cheer them on, or to coach them in the necessary skills.