This holiday, I have many dad friends who cannot see their children. In fact, this time of year is generally the most depressing time for many men. Life is not always a greeting-card. And even if a picture-perfect moment presented itself, it’s only one facet of reality. Believe that this is only temporary and everything passes. Let’s use the slightly modified lyrics to Ava Max’s Kings & Queens to sum up our perfectly imperfect lives…‘If all the kings had their queens on the throne, we would pop champagne and raise a toast; to all the kings who are fighting alone; baby, you’re not dancin’ on your own.’
As awful as divorce was, custody battles are a quantum leap worse. The former rips apart routines, friendships and pocketbooks; the latter will eviscerate the already tattered remains of family and identity. When my ex and I separated, at least it was mutual and our settlements were confirmed with four signatures without any court time. However, while life as parents rearing a child continued separately, the divorce simply left us with no real shared resources to rely upon for our still common purpose. As a result, the expenditure of time and resources including money was left up to the person who was presented with the bill. That was often me.
Although our agreement spelled out cost-sharing and a mechanism for reconciliation. What’s on paper doesn’t always translate into reality. And unresolved finances were just a symptom of much bigger resentments that have only pooled over time. As our daughter grew older, she found affinity with each parent and eventually, spent more and more time with me. This changed the equation on equal custody, extracurricular activities and eventually the choice of school. Our final resolution resulted in a court order granting me custody and I became a support receiver.
I never wanted this. What I wanted was for our daughter to have equal access to both parents who love and support her unconditionally. But the Court gave me authority to act with much independent choice without consultation or consensus from the other parent. In many ways, things are just easier now. But in other ways, being a full-time, single-dad meant full-time challenges. There is no co-parent load balancing anymore. I’m 100% taxi dad. On 100% homework assist. 100% enforcer, counselor, cheerleader and 199% parent to my daughter while recognizing the 1% my former spouse contributes. Although I’ve gained much and my daughter has acquired choice, I think all three of us lost significantly in this zero-sum game.
But out of the shards of broken pottery comes the art of Kintsugi. The restoration speaks to its history and highlights even greater magnificence knowing what has been overcome.
On the way out of court, my ex’s lawyer took the unprecedented step to lecture me about coming from a position of threats and intimidation. I paused and measuredly spoke that it upsets me when people attempt to get away with what are obvious responsibilities. It upsets me further when they become indignant about their position and undermine restorative efforts. And it upsets me most when there is a system in place that panders and prolongs this type of behavior. I paused and continued telling her lawyer that her client has excelled at frustrating the process with inaction and she is rewarded with the spotlight of legitimacy. The lawyer turned and we all walked away, feeling empty and unfulfilled.
Unlike the day my Divorce Order was signed and I threw a party with my buddies, there was no uncorked champagne for the Custody Order. Nor was there a night out with my daughter at the best family restaurant. I went home quietly and assessed the legal costs and an even larger pot of resentment that’s just brimming to scald anyone who comes close. It was no victory, not even bittersweet. But it was necessary. It wished it never had to be this way. How many times do we have to play with fire before we realize that in no scenario will we come out unburnt.
Perhaps I’m now numbed to this pain. Perhaps I have less empathy or my compassionate has diminished. Oh, the cost. But out of the shards of broken pottery comes the art of Kintsugi. The restoration speaks to its history and highlights even greater magnificence knowing what has been overcome.
This holiday, I celebrate everything: the good, the bad and especially the ugly—because I know they are all connected. I look at my daughter’s proverbial wings which have unfurled long ago. Since then, she has had many opportunities to fan them. No doubt she will soar. And the moment she takes flight, nothing else will matter and it will all be worth it.
That will be the happiest day of my fatherhood. I think that may also be my saddest, too.
