When I was growing up, my family was torn apart by divorce, relocations and a house that at times resembled a homeless shutter or foster home.
Amidst that chaos, I longed to have a normal family like my friends did. I wanted to have a home filled with loving parents, good kids, a dog, peace and kindness. I wanted a loving wife whom I loved back. I wanted a good job, a stable income and to want to come home at night.
I got all that and more. I was married to a wonderful woman for 29 years until she died. I helped raise 2 step kids. We had 3 dogs and 4 cats. Our homes became an oasis for us.
Now, it is all gone.
Sometimes, it feels like it never existed.
We gave primary custody of my stepson to his father in 1997, because we all felt that living with his father might help my stepson deal with anger issues, his juvenile delinquent behavior, his drug use and his acting out. (It didn’t, but we had to try something).
The next year, we learned my stepdaughter was using heroin and had to check her into her first rehab. Eight years later, after much therapy, treatments and multiple stays in rehabs, my stepdaughter overdosed and died in 2006.
I did my best to help my wife maintain a relationship with her son. We relocated to Florida three different times to be near him. She adored him. At times, he reciprocated. Other times, he remained distant or pushed her away.
After she died, he told me he wanted nothing to do with me.
We haven’t spoken since that day three years ago.
I have many wonderful memories of our family.
- Holiday dinners
- Vacations
- Saturday hikes through the forest
- Coaching little league
- Bedtime stories
- Movies and popcorn
- Practical jokes
- Basketball at our backyard hoop
- Bike rides
- Bowling
And many more.
It wasn’t the family I designed. I could have done without my wife’s ever-present dirtbag ex-husband pulling the kids out of school twice a month, dragging them to his NA meetings and exposing them to his hypocrisy, lying and criminal behavior.
I would have preferred to have been the one to make the best decisions for them, instead of deferring to my wife and their “real” father.
But nonetheless, it was a pretty good family.
Now I have no family.
I’ve never been close to my sister. We’re cordial and occasionally text each other.
I speak to my mother several times a week, but neither of us cares enough to make an interstate flight to visit each other.
I’ve got several good friends who live far away. I have a number of acquaintances, neighbors and friends locally.
But as for family – it’s now just me and the dogs.
Surprisingly, I like it.
Go figure.
After 50 years of being part of a family, I like not being part of one.
I would never have predicted this.