Here comes the dreaded day. I am driving my girls to the airport once again. I play games with my mind. This time the drive is going to be longer than the last. I think to myself. If I concentrate really hard, I’ll elongate the time before departure. In the end, the drive is still the same. I know the minute they leave my sight, the next interaction is undetermined. There are standards set by the court but are not followed. The process to hold the opposing party in contempt takes months. A resolution to the bigger problem is yet to come.
As I dread my physical presence in the last moments prior to their departure, the overwhelming pain I feel makes me miss out on the last minutes I have to share my love for them. The time will not return, as it has passed. I hold on to the hope that next time, it will be different.
The time comes again and once again, I am consumed with emotion again. To experience the same fate. I guess I am fortunate to know the pain I feel confirms my love for my kids. There are those parents that have children but are not mothers and fathers to them. They can easily put themselves in the priority seat and forget they had children at all. I wouldn’t know what that’s like.
See in a long distance parenting situation one would assume the parent with the majority of the parenting time helps and promotes the children’s communication with the other parent. In my situation Father thrives on the power of control. He does the opposite. The gaps between communication continue to get bigger. To no avail, I repeatedly ask to speak with my girls. I provide my girls devices which have been altered to block, and deter my calls. The phones’ restrictions were locked by their Father. I had no access to update or modify my own phones.
After hours on the phone with cellular provider and manufacturer, I took control and said no more. The devices are now locked with fingerprint access. The restrictions are set by me with a my code. Problem fixed? Oh no, now their father has kept the cellular phone and won’t allow my daughters to have it.
I hope the day comes when I can confidently hand over my little ones with the expectations that, I will speak or FaceTime with them as frequently as one expect to have access to their child.
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