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Joy was always there…waiting
Last night, I stayed up until 1 am with my 19-year old. She is processing the narcissism of her father and her having been the “golden child”.
The stories are endless and I was hardly tired. She needed me alert and somehow I was. We had just finished watching a premiere of a film on trauma. Trauma has shaped my life and she is studying psychology, so I thought it might be some good bonding material for us.
When she was a baby, her father was around a little. At age 3, he took a “bachelor” job and traveled all the time with a crew of young, single guys to do work in hospitals. Never mind how damaging that was to our family, nor the kind of attention he got from the nurses. It was bad.
He loved that job. He was only paid if he was on the road, however. So, he took every job he could, and was on the road most of the time, even weekends, if necessary. At home with a 1, 3, and 5 year old, I paid bills, started homeschooling, and tended the barn and gardens. I taught music lessons several days a week after school as well.
I did all I could to support him and our family.
When he was home, he didn’t participate in our family life unless coerced. He would find any excuse not to be at the dinner table. He never cooked or cleaned or cared for the little ones. Only occasionally did he interact and play…
