Sometime the reality of life hits home – and not in the big things but in the little things
Last week was parents evening and even though I could have spoken to a teacher on the phone , I chose to go. Why? Because if I didn’t my ex-wife would start to go on one about me being uncaring and not wanting to be involved. This trek involved an hour and 20 minutes in the car followed by 25 minutes waiting on a small cramped chair for what would provide to be only 2.5 minutes with a teacher … the joys of parents evening.
But if you don’t go- then apparently you don’t care …. you travel and you make the effort, you get nothing but funny looks from other parents but you endure them because tonight is about your child.
The quick conversation with a teacher tells you all is well and then you get back in the car to drive home.
Sometimes you forget how bad being a non-resident parent can be, the things you miss and the new images that are created in your absence. This hit home to me at that recent parents evening because when looking through my son’s French book, there under Mon Famalie was my youngest son’s picture … A picture of his family which detailed him, his brother and his mum- but no daddy.
I appreciate that is the reality of his day-to-day life. But as a father, someone who loves and cares about their children- it cuts to the very core of your being. The simple picture has had a profound effect on me… whilst my children love me and know I love then they don’t see me as part of day-to-day life. A fact I need to change. I don’t know how yet but I am working on it.
Till next week,
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