During the three weeks of moving in I truly believed that having the kids make a slow transition was best. I would have them stay at my house a couple nights a week, come over for dinner, pick them up then take them to the other house after dinner. The first week I even went over there and made them dinner so it could be a bit more normal. He had planned a trip up to see family a few weeks back and I thought, what a good idea for the kids to see family, get even more love and support and even in my mind I thought it would be good support for him too, he needed that. No matter what choices he had been making I felt he is still a feeling human being and deserves it. The weekend originally was going to be my move-out weekend as I had planned on doing it at a time the kids were not around, I had discussed this with him but then I got my house a few weeks early. In any case I would still use that time that they were away to do my final move. Knowing that the weekend for them was coming up I planned the weekend prior for them to stay here which I wrote about earlier. I went by the other house to say goodbye to them before they flew out and all seemed pretty good, they were excited and I was happy for them. At the time I did not even consider that it would end up being so hard once they were gone which is why saying goodbye was like a normal thing. My head space during this last year has always been centered around their feeling first, I never wanted to have awkwardness, sadness, or get my ego involved in things that were “normal”, like a trip to see family, school, playing with friends, going to the gym with him. The things in life that were routine for them were important to keep and no matter how sad I was, frustrated, angry and sometimes in complete shock because what I had just been told, discovered or had endured I could snap into unselfish parent mode at any time. This was very important to me during all the months, I did all the things I normally would have for him during the past 10 months because I was able to seperate the feeling but also wanted the kids to be aware that just because it is hard doesn’t mean I fall apart and stop caring.
Over that weekend, I received the kids first payment which we had agreed I would receive, put a portion into savings for them and I would use the rest as money to get my house operating and have for survival. He flipped his lid over this and the texts starting coming full of rage, anger and what one podcaster called as “hijackyal terrorism”. I could not understand what was happening until they returned home and on Monday I went to pick the kids up for what I had planned as the week and my daughter did not want to come. I was in shock again! My son came and said that she just needed time. He spent the night and the next day here as I went to work. It was all fine but I could feel something under the surface. He mentioned stuff that he had heard like, I had stole all of the money, broke into the house to take things etc. All things I could hear my ex saying out loud. The next day he went back to the other house for school stuff, spent the day there and when I arrived after work to pick him up I informed my daughter to get her stuff and she was coming to my house too. Much to her disliking and complaining she did. As we pulled in the driveway I shared that my feelings with them. I told them they were acting like spoiled brats, insensitive and I was not going to have that, I also used some swear words in there only ever come out of my mouth when I am over something, it heightened the intensity which only made my son have a reason to yell back at me, jump out of the car and head back to the other house. My daughter came in and pouted all the way up to her room. I prayed “Lord help me, what do I do” leaned on the counter and took a breath. I hopped in the car to drive and try and find him, try a talk, settle him down, make it right was all I could think of. When I found him at the park, he ran from me, yelled names at me, said I was crazy. I stood outside my car just waiting for him to come over, he never did. Somehow I thought if I just stood there and talked in a normal voice he would eventually see me as caring. Instead it would later come back as me chasing him down in my car, screaming at him. When I returned home one child less, I took another breath and tried to recenter to my daughters needs. When I came upstairs I asked her for her phone and saw that she had been texting with him and saw pictures of keys from my house. It was so strange as she had always been so trustworthy, it felt like another betrayal from someone new. I was not sure why he was asking for her to go through my stuff and take pictures but it was enough to take the cell phone. I had also taken my sons earlier as I found porn on it from the week earlier. Eventually she opened up to me, shared all the pieces of why she had not wanted to come to my house that week. She was mad at me, for stealing money, moving stuff without anyone knowing, mad at our friends for helping me. It was all pieces of truth bent in to my ex’s perception and delivered to the kids as little gifts they would have to open on their own. Each one opened to try and comprehend on their own. As we talked this all became clear, I explained what I could to her, tried to put pieces together without too much for her to handle. She apologized for being mean and said she is confused. As we hugged I told her it is okay, it is all confusing. I love her and she does not have to understand all of this nor should she try to. I took her back to the other house that night as I decided not to force anything at the kids. It was not fair he was putting them there and I was not going to play the game. It meant being without them, alone, a house full of food and hope for the week that never came. I crumbled a bit that night, lost, had little hope this would ever get better.
The next day came with some new life in me. God had planted the seed of hope back in me. I began to let go again of control, allow him to move the pieces. To take back control of myself, my feelings and actions. The sign was clear that I needed to seek legal advice and move forward with my divorce. The joint petition he once agreed to was not going to happen and without the partnership on that there was no chance of having my time with the kids or salvaging our family. I felt if a judge decided then he may have no way of controlling the outcomes. I spent the next two days preparing my paperwork, talking to the attorney and I filed and had the papers served on Friday March 5, 2021.
I did not feel any win or satisfaction from making this choice, it was the little voice inside that said “you need to do this” it was like a little head peeked around the emotion and just sent that to me. I listened. For now, it has only made things more intense and given him more reasons to destroy my name to my kids. He is the victim and has continued to fall apart in front of them, waiting for them to pick up the pieces. I have no option but to sit, pray and wait for things to balance. I will continue to refuse to play the control games coming from every text message. The pictures of me as the poison sign on his cell phone he has circled in red for me to see. The pictures of confirmation I have read his texts circled in red, that I have not responded to somehow trying to make it a threat to me. I can’t help but question on regular basis if I am doing everything the right way, am I doing my best and also will I lose my kids forever. At times I want to give up, just turn it over and stop caring, then I feel like a monster, a terrible dad and a bit pathetic. It is scary. Today and each day i have to make the choice, to get up and try again. Today I will choose this for myself, my kids and for God.
The Kindness Storm 