In My Daughter's Eyes

I realized yesterday, that my role model happens to be a not quite 4-year-old. It was our weekly switch day, this time him to me. It went much the same as it always does, both her and I very excited to see each other. In the car she told me she missed me so much as she always does and then said that she missed herself too. I laughed and asked her what she meant by that and she said that she has to be her other self when she’s at her dad’s.

At first I kind of worried that my kid had split-personality disorder, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized just how bright she is. She literally lives two lives, one with them and another with us, each of these being quite different. I was struck by the fact that she is fully aware of this. It was in thinking about this and the way that she copes that I realized just how strong my little girl is.

Every week she is disappointed to have to leave us but she rarely cries. It’s obvious that she wants to but as she has told me, she tries not to cry because she knows it makes me sad and she likes it better when I am happy. When she loses the internal battle and sheds some tears, she always apologizes to me.

One week when we were on our way to his house she told me that she wished her dad didn’t love her anymore because then he wouldn’t miss her and she wouldn’t have to go there. This of course broke my heart but following her example, I choked back the tears and explained to her that she didn’t mean that, that she would be sad if she didn’t see her dad anymore, and I reminded her that she has fun when she is there.

I will be the first to admit that she has a good dad. Obviously, I would love to be able to have her with me all of the time but I cannot deny the fact that he is good to her. We have our differences but I know he loves her and his intentions are good. Yesterday though, she reminded me yet again that her grandma has a picture at her house from our wedding day. Her dad is wearing a tuxedo with a flower and I am wearing a wedding dress. This time though she asked why we broke up. I told her we just didn’t love each other anymore (I refuse to discuss infidelity with my 4-year-old). She asked why and said that she just needed to know. I told her we just didn’t and maybe she could ask her dad next week and see what he says; this seemed to pacify her for the time being.

Being 3 months old when we separated, she does not ever remember us being together and yet the little wheels in her head spin constantly and she feels an extreme need to figure it all out. Much like her mother, she is not content just living the life dealt to her without completely understanding it and making it her own.

Not a day goes by that I am not haunted by the life that I have given my daughter. She will never know a traditional home or family, due to no mistake or decision-making on her part. This is always hard for me to swallow but at the same time, I can honestly say that I am thankful that instead of having one home in which her parents are miserable together, she gets two homes and four parents that are very happy. Because of this, we are all more able to give her the life she deserves.

But above everything else, she has been there for me and gotten me through so many times and in so many ways that she is not even aware of. When I found out about his affair, I was insanely depressed, if not for her I would still be in bed. She’s the reason I enrolled in school and went to class everyday. I even have her to thank for me giving love another chance. I could go on but you get the point. I’m where I am today because she gave me a reason to get here. I look up to her strength and ability to take life as it comes to her and always remain positive, to hold back tears for the benefit of someone else but to be able to cry when absolutely necessary (because there are things that only a good cry can cure), to find extreme happiness in small everyday events and things, the list goes on and on. Yes, she’s my daughter and I will always feel the need to brag about her and will always see great things in her, but how many parents can say that their child is their role model?

Getting to Know Your Friends

The women in my family eat up those email surveys resulting in a flooded inbox of answers to questions that really don’t tell you anything that you didn’t already know about the person (seriously, who really cares what someone’s favorite soda is?). That being said, I will admit that I almost always get sucked into filling one out myself.

As I was deleting the answers to someone else’s survey so that I could plug in my own, I came across the question, “What was the worst Christmas present you ever received?” Her answer was simple but has resonated with me for quite some time: “a patchwork quilt that Grandma made for me out of scraps.”*

We have all received these kinds of home/handmade gifts that aren’t appealing to the eye. I know I’ve grumbled about my own over the years, but at a time when I am missing my grandma and all that she meant to my life, so deeply, I would be happy to have anything made by her hands.

The afghan she made me was wrecked years ago by one of the numerous puppies to go through my family. I have several store-bought gifts from her and of course, they are significant in their own way but only my crocheted slippers, which match the ones she made for my daughter and her doll, Honey (only Honey and I haven’t outgrown ours), encapsulate her touch, scent, and heart.

I won’t wear the slippers because I’m scared. I’m scared of the yarn wearing out and with it her scent and her presence. Most of all, I’m scared that when this pair is gone, there will be no more the way another pair always replaced the ones we outgrew or wore out when she was alive. And so they remain in the shoe box I hid them in. When I need to, I can lift the lid and smell her.





*Now, if the person said this is reading, this is not a dig on you, just simply the thoughts that your words provoked in me. Its okay for you to feel that way, it just got me thinking about my own emotions linked to gifts I have received.

Words from my good friend Alexandre Dumas

"There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness." -- The Count of Monte Cristo

I encountered this quote in high school, the first time I read The Count of Monte Cristo. I remember reflecting on my own teenaged life and how these words hit the spot. Life sure was hard back then, my parents didn’t get along the best, my boyfriend cheated on me, high school girls are nasty to each other, deciding where to go to college and for what was a huge decision, etc. Pretty much, I had no idea.
In the six years since graduation, I’ve had a reality check, or seven. I fell in love my first semester of college and thought it would be a great idea to drop out so that I could move in with him. My parents flipped (this is a huge understatement). I waited tables and had a horrible relationship. A year later there was a baby on the way and because we were both raised that way, we got married. After a nine-month marriage I suspected him of having an affair; he still denies this to this day but the proof was staring me in the face. I then got to share my baby girl with the person I hated most in this world. I worked two jobs, got myself a hole in the wall apartment, bought a beater mini van from my dad for $40 and enrolled in college. After receiving a suggestive text message from my ex-husband, my tires were slashed and my windshield smashed but I’m not going to point any fingers on that one.
Eventually I fell in love again (this time I had a wonderful relationship) and within months of each other two of the most influential people in my life passed away. I became engaged, and had to postpone the wedding because my fiancé’s lupus flared up and his body was killing off his own red blood cells. After seeing several doctors who did nothing to improve the situation, we found one who treated him and once in remission, we had an absolutely perfect wedding. Two weeks later, he had a stroke. Due to a miracle and relentless praying and speech therapy, he recovered 100%. His doctor told us that if he had another issue the next medication prescribed would sterilize him. We did a lot of discussing and soul searching and decided a baby was extremely important to us so we re-vamped the timeline of our lives and decided to begin the process of baby-making. One month later I miscarried. This is not a pity plea, but rather to point out the fact that high school suddenly seemed wonderful.
If I’ve learned anything it’s to embrace misery. I’ve never been more thankful of anything than I am of the affair my ex-husband and his current fiancé had. Thanks to them I am in the best place I have ever been in my life. Thanks to my husband’s period of bad health, our relationship is indestructible, we take nothing for granted and appreciate and love each other more than either of us even realized was possible. Because I dropped out of school, I have matured, discovered what I want to do with my life, and my attitude and grades are better for it. The miscarriage is pretty fresh but I’m sure before too long, there will be an up-side to that as well. Perhaps we will have a baby soon and we won’t be taking that for granted either.

I’ve always been jealous of people who seem to have uneventful, happy lives. Now, I honestly feel sorry for them; how happy can they possibly be without ever having experienced the other end of the spectrum? One’s happiness can only be as powerful as the worst pain they have known. In the words of another good friend of mine (visit his blog at www.bensonjwright.blogspot.com), “When life throws me lemons, I'm going to throw them back, and go get some orange juice.” After all, making lemonade with those lemons is simply accepting the fact that you’ve been thrown lemons. To me this is unacceptable, you need to take control of your own life and make it what you want it to be, take it from me, other people aren’t going to cooperate in giving you the life you have in mind; whether directly or indirectly, they’re simply going to stand in your way, sometimes push you down, and occasionally spit on you while you’re down there. Stand up and walk away and go find yourself a glass of orange juice.