On the 5 hour drive on the way home from my parents house yesterday, we stopped at a
gas station to stretch our legs and get a pick-me-up for the doziness which was
occurring inside of my body.
As I pulled in, to my left I noticed young woman sitting in
a 4-door dodge neon, wearing scrubs and casually texting or playing on her cell
phone. I didn’t pay her much attention
and assumed she was waiting for her passenger who was probably inside getting a
refreshment or using the bathroom. I thought
it odd though, as it appeared she was on her way home from work and unless she
was sharing a ride with a co-worker, who might she be waiting for?
I came back out and the entrance to my car was obstructed by
the woman, who was now at the rear passenger door alongside a man about my age
and a little boy whom they were both helping get settled into a booster
sear. I couldn’t enter my car because of
where they were standing, so I set my drink on the hood and opened the straw,
slowly, so as not to hurry them.
The man had kind of a high and tight haircut so I assumed he
was on reserves or in the forces, and I heard him say “See you later buddy” as
he walked away from the car. Ahh. Now it was making sense. The woman shut the door and she and the man
said something which was inaudible but I’m guessing it was “See you later” or
something to that effect. There was no
love between them. I bet there was at
some point. Even if it was just for one
night.
As I entered my car I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw
Kristen’s eyes full of tears and I can saw pain in her eyes. It only took a second for me to realize that
she had seen something happen. I turned
to look left, to the rear passenger window of the neon to see that boy the man
and woman were helping into the car. He
was about 10 years old. He was sobbing,
crying, looking back at his dad as he walked away, with eyes full of tears,
red-faced and head down, his face held in his hands.
I too, began to cry.
It was the exchange. The return.
What awful terms to describe this scenario. They make it seem like a retail transaction.
There was so much pain in that boys eyes. I instantly got sick to my stomach and my own
tears began to flow. All I wanted to do
was give that little boy a hug and to tell him it would be alright. All our windows were shut, but I could almost
hear his cry as he continued to look back over his shoulder, out the window at
where his father had been, trying to get one more glimpse. The time was too short? He wanted dad back? His face showed the pain that he knew his
cries were futile. They wouldn’t change
the situation. He was helpless. He had no nope.
His mom looked at me
and noticed that I had seen the exchange.
I tried to feign a smile with my lips and look the other way. She was saying some things to the little boy
and she had a strange smile on her face, maybe she was trying to hide the pain
from him. From me. She pulled slowly out of the parking spot,
making promises to him I’m sure, maybe fore ice cream or maybe a movie or a new
toy to soothe the pain. To quiet the cry.
I want to know what toy it is that you can buy which can fix
the pain inflicted upon your heart as your parents try to live separate lives
with their child being sent in-between.
Whatever ‘normal’ they think they can bring into that situation. They are fooling themselves.
What breaks my heart even more is the fact that this same
thing happens across the country, perhaps a million times or more every
week. Maybe every day? And then the hurt and the pain, gets covered
up. It gets put into the hurt
pocket. Maybe it doesn’t get dealt
with. it doesn’t take a rocket scientist
to figure out that the crumbling of family and the values stems, in part, from
this pain and devastation these children, even adult children, must go through
when this breaking apart of the foundation of your life takes place. No wonder the high divorce rate and the
incarcerations we have, the abuses of
alcohol, drugs, food, etc.
I am crying over the boy as I write this and re-live the
scenario. It was truly one of the most
heart-wrenching scenes I’ve seen played out.
It’s the first time I think I’ve ever witnessed a custody exchange.
I know you have had your own gut-wrenching with your own
kids and at other times that we all were not part of or privy to, so maybe you’ve
experienced something like this before.
I wrote this note to tell you thank you. Thank you for raising your kids. For not abandoning your families, in the
past, now or in the future. Whether or
not that thought ever entered your mind is not where I’m going.
I can appreciate how difficult raising little ones can be. I know every stage will present its own
struggle. Thank God it’s not revealed to
me now, because I know I’m sure I’d be anxious and worried about those future
days.
For now, I’ll focus on today.
I squeezed the kids a little tighter last night and kissed them
a little longer at bed. Smiled when they
whined, laughed at their silly jokes and praised God I have a wife that didn’t
leave me so many years ago.
So “Thank you” for doing what you do, for loving your wives
and raising those kiddos in ‘The Way’.
