God willing in a few weeks I will celebrate 14 years of continuous sobriety. I have two indescribably amazing daughters, 8 and 5. My wife and I have been struggling through some catastrophic difficulties in our marriage. About a month and a half ago she sat down next to me on the family room couch and simply stated “it’s time.” She wanted to separate. We do not have anywhere near the money for me to find my own place. Our mortgage is precarious as it is. So I have been staying at a friends house some nights and on the couch at my house other nights.
The kids don’t know about it and they have a million activities so I am continuing to make myself useful for the girls but also as one last Hail Mary at keeping my marriage. I have made a pledge to start from scratch at making myself as useful and productive, as a father, husband, friend, son, brother, fellow person in recovery, etc. I have wholeheartedly reinvested myself in my program of recovery every day, through, prayer, meditation, meetings and practicing the 12 steps of recovery in all my affairs. As the days go by my hope for keeping my marriage together rapidly dwindles. And the pain equally rapidly hits new pinnacles. Some days I feel as I am in a state of purgatory with my wife but I refuse to let it spill into my relationship with my daughters.
On Thursday my older daughter broke her daughter in gymnastics, one of her activities but quickly taking a backseat to basketball and soccer, and becoming more of a fun non serious escape. We weren’t sure if there was a break or not so when the doctor returned after the x Ray with the news she will miss 6 weeks of gym and activities, and in turn missing the remainder of her soccer season, she looked to her father for confirmation, hoping it wasn’t true. She cried with such genuine sadness that it is one of those instances in your life you would literally kill to take away her pain. I hugged her, stroked her face and cried with her while I tried to paint the silver lining in my head. But I just held her and stroked her hair. This isn’t really cataclysmic by any measurement but my child was dealt a hand that she clearly doesn’t deserve. At that moment, her heart was hurting.
Like mine was. But I was able to be there and be the exact model of compassion in my daughters time of need. That’s why I wake up and pray for the strength every day. That’s why I attend meetings and discuss the various ways to successfully implement the steps in my life. Because she needed me. And she will need me again. Being a sub standard father is not an option. That I can control. She had a number of other instances of emotional breakdown, brief but direct, throughout the day and I was there for her each time. It feel like it would/will be the end of the world if my marriage meets its demise but this/that too shall/will pass. And I’ll still be a father. And I am responsible for continuing, one day at a time, to put myself in a position to be of service to my family, but more specifically my two little guardian angels.