Day 33

Today, I handed the keys to my house over to the renters. It was a strange feeling to be relinquishing the house I have lived in for seven years. The moving process was grueling, and I only made it though because of the help of many wonderful friends and family members. It was amazing how much stuff we had accumulated in seven years. I often found myself angry during the moving. Here I was working my ass off – sorting through piles of belongings, hauling boxes, and organizing volunteers. And all the while, he is living a “new” and responsibility-free life in Denver. It just didn’t seem fair, or right, or even logical. I had always envisioned us moving out together and into a larger, nicer home. We had talked and dreamed about that together.

After the moving and cleaning was complete, my feelings of anger shifted toward sadness and despair. Looking at the empty house brought so many memories flooding back. I sat in the empty house and watched a picture-show of memories run across the walls. Two of our three children had been welcomed home as newborns into this house. We celebrated Archie’s 4^th – 8^th birthdays there and would have celebrated number 9 if he hadn’t left one week prior to it. Seven Christmases – all of them filled with family traditions, laughter, and love. Seven summers filled with sprinklers, plastic swimming pools, and bike rides around the neighborhood. Neighbors that we laughed at together and eavesdropped on through open windows while laying in bed on summer nights. The neighborhood park, which facilitated many picnics and evenings together as a family. The backyard garden and the strawberry patch we had worked on for many years. The kitchen, where meals were shared with friends and family. The nursery, where babies were rocked to sleep. And the living room, where family games nights were frequent and enjoyed by all.

And with all these memories, I also must acknowledge the pain that I endured during the seven years at Evergreen, as well as the secrets I have found since his departure. The boxes stuffed full of evidence that had been shoved in the attic. The bags of receipts and credit card statements stuffed behind the garage cabinets. The mailbox, where I had occasionally uncovered his secrets but failed to see as red flags. And the bedroom, where four months before he left he had shoved Oliver aside and told me he would relinquish his parental rights after I asked to look through his cell phone. And yet, I had held onto hope that I could somehow “fix” him. That he could be successful, honest, and live with integrity. The house is full of memories, and I see him everywhere inside and outside of it. Sometimes I can still hear the sounds of his car pulling up next to the mailbox, where he used to park. I can see him getting out, walking up the sidewalk, and coming in to the sounds of “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!”

Farewell Evergreen. You were a good, safe, and strong house. I will always remember the moments in time that were captured inside your walls. I trust that the future will hold more memories and maybe another house for me and the kids. But we’ll never forget about our very first house we called our own. The husband and daddy we loved got lost along the way and is now gone. Then again….maybe he never really existed.

Day 32

Today I found out about the girlfriend. It’s amazing what phone records and the internet can provide. Needless to say, this provided another round of shock, denial, and sadness for me. To feel like I wasn’t good enough is the most sickening feeling. The kids and I were like garbage to him…disposable when we no longer served a purpose. My thoughts now revolve around what he is doing, or rather, what they are doing. I cannot even begin to imagine giving up your children for a life with someone you’ve only met once and have only “known” for a matter of months.

My next goal is to amend the divorce papers to say “adultery” as the reason for separation. Currently it reads “irreconcilable differences” as cause. I was hoping to list abandonment; however, in order to do that – I’d have to wait one year to prove legitimate abandonment! Honestly?! I find it comical that the court system expects me to wait for ONE YEAR to prove that the kids and I have actually been abandoned. We lost the house, I am scrapping by with the little money I have left, and I am working for free for the business he left behind (because he took so much money that the business cannot afford to pay me). He walked out of our home and pretended he would be back in a few hours. And now I have to wait for one year to be able to say I’ve been abandoned!?!

As if my situation isn’t already bad enough, I now have to live with the notion that our “differences” could somehow have been reconciled. I definitely participated in my share of reconciliation over the years. Every time he lied to me or stole from me, I reconciled. It was far worse to be alone than to live with a liar. Even now that he’s gone, there are days when I long for company and companionship so desperately that I would gladly look the other way while he lies, cheats, and steals. I recognize that this is terribly unhealthy and wrong of me, and yes, I am now in counseling.

32 days ago, he took our children to an activity for Archie’s cub scouts. It was a pizza party, and the kids had to build their own pizzas. I was at church rehearsing for Sunday’s praise band, and I was so grateful that he was willing to take all three kids with him. He periodically sent me text messages throughout the night, updating me about how much fun he and the kids were having. It was the very last activity that he did with the kids, and I often wonder if he knew that it was.

Day 28

I hate Sundays. He left on a Sunday, but it’s more than just that. Sundays were family days. For the past couple of years, Sundays had been the only day that he and I had off together. Our routine was having breakfast as a family, going to church, and then taking the kids out to lunch afterwards. The kids looked forward to these lunches all week. It was a special treat and a guaranteed time that we all had together without the distractions of work, school, or extracurricular activities. More often than not, we had Chinese food. Needless to say, the kids and I haven’t been able to eat Chinese food since he left. He loved Chinese food, and the kids have acquired a love for it as well. When we lived in Portland, we would visit Chinatown. Archie and his dad would eat anything if it was called Chinese. Sometimes our Sunday lunches were held at the park that is down the street from the church. I would pack a picnic lunch, and we would spend the afternoon eating and watching the kids play at the playground. Oliver would run back and forth across the open, grassy area and would periodically stop to rest between his dad and me on the picnic blanket. I haven’t been able to go to church or to the park since he left. I see him everywhere I go, and I imagine the conversations we would have in various places. He used to always pass me notes in church, and now I don’t even have anyone to sit with. Each Sunday since that Mother’s Day, I have been haunted by the events of that day. Everything seemed so normal. Everything seemed so real. But the facts I have uncovered since that day have made me realize that nothing was real or normal about that day or the days surrounding it. In fact, nothing appears to have been real about the person I shared a bed with for 11 years.

It’s been 4 weeks today. It is 1:36 right now, which is about the time it was when he left for “work” that Sunday. He left at 1:48, and I spent the afternoon and evening in complete oblivion of what he was doing. While I was tidying up the house that afternoon, he was booking a flight to Denver and pulling out thousands of dollars from a business line of credit. While the kids and I ate dinner that Mother’s Day, he was boarding a flight for Denver that departed at 6:54. And while I was bathing the kids and putting them to bed, he was arriving in Denver, leasing a rental car, and settling in somewhere for the night. It was not until 10:38 (2 hours after he had arrived in Denver and 2 hours after I had tucked the kids into bed for the night) that I discovered my life had changed forever.

Day 27

Today I finished off the tube of toothpaste that we shared for the past several months and that I have been using since he left. And that is about all I can say today….

Day 25

Yesterday was a landmark day. I filed papers at the courthouse for divorce, child protection/custody, and child support. It was quite an ordeal, as my attorney is located in the north end of Boise, and the courthouse I file at is located in Caldwell. The kids and I spent the better part of the day in the car, and I went through a half tank of gas. As I was driving around accomplishing all these things, I kept thinking how ironic it is that I am the one who is inevitably responsible for paying for and processing the documents required for divorce. The irony lies in the fact that I was clearly not the partner who wanted “out.” Furthering the difficulty is the fact that he still refuses to disclose his location. Because I cannot serve him the divorce papers, I now have to pay to have a legal notice published in the Denver newspaper. Once this has been published and the 20 days required for him to contest have passed, a judge will likely grant all elements of the divorce and child support petitions. Although I know his intention is probably to never pay me a penny, my hope is that he will eventually be held responsible for his decisions and actions.

We have not had contact with him for 12 days. With the absence of text messages and emails, more theories have surfaced about why he left and where he might be. One leading theory is that he was a closet homosexual and had to flee to fulfill his true life path. Another recently developed theory is that he is no longer in Denver, but is now hiding in Mexico…where money lasts longer and it is easier to disappear. Whatever the true story is, it seems evident that this was planned and that he has no intentions of ever taking responsibility for the actions and decisions he made in his “old” life. The evidence continues to mount, including a $7,000 cash advance, a half dozen maxed out credit cards, and evidence that he owns a gun.

The kids continue to do fairly well under the circumstances. Archie is still the most significantly affected one. He has been sleeping a lot and seems to have slipped into a minor depression. He now asks me when I will remarry, which leads me to believe that what he misses the most is the reassurance of a complete family unit. He is wise beyond his years and has started to understand that his dad is in quite a bit of trouble. I fear that his teenage years may be difficult without the presence of his father.

Life continues to be very fast-paced for me. Always seems to be a million things to do. The business is doing better than expected – probably because the skimming off the top has come to an end. I start my next semester of classes next Monday, which should be somewhat of a challenge. However, I am so very determined to finish my degree so that I can make a better life for my children.

My sadness has definitely tapered somewhat, but I still miss him during quiet moments. Nights are the most difficult, and I am often the most lonely then. I miss the security of having him around…if that even makes sense. I still have visions of him and can remember the “lasts.” The last time he mowed the yard (he was wearing camouflage pants and an orange shirt), the last meal we ate as a family (breakfast at Rick’s Press Room on Mother’s Day), the last time he grilled on his beloved Webber, and the last touch (a brief hug before he left for “work” that day). It breaks my heart to reach the conclusion that while I was naively enjoying these moments in time, he was plotting his escape with a calculating and razor-sharp objective.

Day 21

Day 21 and I am ANGRY. Archie has finally broken down and seems to be falling into a depression. He cried himself to sleep tonight after a long conversation in which we relived memories of the past. Archie wants to know why his dad doesn’t love him anymore. Archie wants to know why he didn’t get to say goodbye to his dad. Archie wants to know why, if his dad comes back, we couldn’t all live together again. I think these emotions may have been spurred on by the fact that we are moving out of our family home and in with my parents. Archie forms deep attachments to people and places (much like me). While his siblings seem to have been spared the full comprehension of abandonment because of their emotional immaturity, Archie suffers immensely because of his understanding and ability to deeply feel. No child should ever have to suffer this way. It is worse than a death because Archie understands that his dad chose to leave him. Although the kids and I did not choose this path, we are the ones left picking up the pieces. I usually try to refrain from self-pity; however, in this case I firmly believe that this is simply just not fair.

Day 20

It’s hard to believe that it’s been 20 days since I last saw my husband, and since our children hugged him goodbye as he left for work on Mother’s day. My life has become so complicated, and things seem to be forever chaotic. I just cannot accomplish everything that I need to, or am required to for that matter. I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders as I try to salvage a business, complete my education, move out of our home, and raise three children as a single mom. I secretly laugh at the Emily who, 21 days ago, thought her life was completely maxed out. I haven’t watched television, read a single book to my children, exercised, or even attended church in the last 20 days. There is simply not enough time for me to do anything “extra.” Writing about my feelings and experiences in the middle of the night is about the most relief I get from my living hell.

Amiss the packing, phone calls, appointments with lawyers, bill paying, and meeting with accountants, the children have been remarkably resilient. I am so very proud to call them my own.

Archie finished third grade this week, and his report card showed just how much he has grown this year! He has taken on even more of a parenting role with his siblings, which concerns me. However, he seems to take pride in caring for his brother and sister, and I suppose it’s a sort of distraction for him. Archie has had spells of anger, but seems to be doing pretty well under the circumstances. He got situated in his new room today and still sleeps next to a picture of his dad. I am so very sad that Archie has had to temporarily give up cub scouts, as that was his weekly activity with his dad.

Ramona continues to handle the abandonment the best of us all. She has begun calling her father by his first name, as opposed to “Dad.” She has informed me that Dad is a “bad guy” who makes “bad choices,” and I can’t really argue much. She consistently seeks reassurance that Poppy and Grammy’s house is our home, as well as that there are six of us living here.

Oliver has been busy and active as usual. Tonight, he heard the doorbell ring on television and thought it was the real doorbell. He immediately shouted “Daddy!” with delight and ran to the door. When I showed him that nobody was on the other side, he stood by the door and looked out the window for quite some time. I am certain that he’ll eventually forget about his dad’ however, his innocent love for Daddy is both heartbreaking and heartwarming.

As I was packing up the house today, I came across the boxes of family pictures that have been collected over the past 10 years. I couldn’t help leafing through the photos of a person I loved (and still love) so much. Pictures of birthdays, holidays, vacations, births, weddings, and family milestones. I started weeping, wondering how the person in the pictures could possibly walk away from his family without looking back. I fear that I will never know the reasons behind his behavior, but I desperately seek some sort of closure to this tragedy.

Communication with my husband came to a complete stop last Saturday night. Until that day, I had had occasional and brief conversations with him via text messaging. Whether he’s attempting to hide or experiencing some sort of difficulty, it seems clear that the road ahead will be long, frustrating, and difficult. Because he will not communicate with me or reveal his physical address, I cannot receive the benefits my children need and deserve. I have spent almost all of my savings on attorney fees, bills that would normally be covered by his income, and feeding my children. And yet he will not send one penny to help with his children. He has not spoken to the children in the last 20 days, and he has not even inquired about their well being. The children continue to exist and require food, clothing, and shelter; however, I appear to have inherited 100% of the responsibility to meet these needs.

We miss him…we think of him often….we cry…..we’re angry. Archie has his nose, Ramona has his eyes, and Oliver has his expressions. Ramona’s toes curl inward like his. Archie looks and sounds like him when he sleeps. Oliver has his finger and hands. I can’t remember what he sounds like. I called his phone yesterday (for the first time since he’s left) just to hear his voicemail greeting. The voice haunted me and sounded like a distant memory or dream. But I know he wasn’t a dream. I have his children and 11 years of memories that will always remind me of him.

Day 10

It’s been 10 days since we last saw his face or heard his voice. Archie turned 9 year old 3 days ago, and he did not call or text to wish Archie a happy day. He sent me a text message telling me he had sent a birthday card two days prior to the birthday, but 5 days have passed…and no card has arrived. I know that a card will never arrive, but I keep looking for one nonetheless. I can’t help but wonder why a person would lie about sending their child a birthday card, but I acknowledge that I cannot even begin to rationalize his thoughts and actions.

The birthday – a very sad day. It was the first holiday without him. My dad, my sister, and I took Archie bowling and out to eat. For the first time, Archie ordered an adult meal (and ate it all) instead of a children’s meal. I couldn’t hold back the tears as I looked around the restaurant and noticed all the families sharing a meal together. I feel fortunate to have my children, but I cannot stop missing the family unit I had become accustomed to. Fortunately, my parents were more than generous with helping with Archie’s gifts (since my money was still frozen in an alternate account), and Archie seemed happy with his day. He received a Nerf gun, 2 Lego sets, a skateboard, and (drum roll) a full-sized basketball hoop. Archie concentrated extra hard when making his birthday wish. He tightly closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before blowing out the 9 candles. I can’t help but wonder if he wished to see his dad again. The birthday brought back so many memories of 9 years ago. He and I were young and Archie had not been a planned baby, but we were both so thrilled to welcome Archie into the world. I remember him taking Archie on long walks, rocking Archie to sleep, and proudly showing Archie off to friends and family members. What has happened to cause such a loving father to completely walk away from his children and never look back?

The days have been easier, but I would be lying if I said I haven’t still been living in a hellish state. I go back and forth between sadness and anger. I miss seeing his face, holding his hand, and curling up in bed next to him at night. I miss his help with the kids…from the bedtime routine to the weekend activities. I miss hearing the kids yell “Daddy!” with delight when he would come home from work.

Archie is starting to display quite a bit of emotional turmoil. He has cried a few times, but seems to be angry and often confused. He became angry with me when he learned that I was visiting my attorney and has also talked about running away to Denver. He still sleeps next to a window, but has recently started keeping a glowing light saber in the window to light the way home for his dad. Archie is my biggest concern right now, and I pray that he will have the strength required to overcome this tragedy.

Ramona continues to be rather complacent about the whole ordeal. On Saturday (day 6), I took her to the kiosk to drop off supplies and she started looking for her dad. She sat at the bar drinking her strawberry Italian soda (her regular…often made by her dad), and I couldn’t help crying at this precious sight.

Oliver continues to talk about Daddy. He screams “Daddy!” every time the phone rings…every time the garage opens…every time the doorbell rings. It is so very painful for me, and I often wonder how long he can go without seeing his dad before he completely forgets who Dad really is.

I have been spending quite a bit of time trying to resurrect the business. Learning how to make coffee has been a challenge for a non-coffee drinker like me…but I have no choice but to do it. I am 100% responsible for these children now, and I vow to not let them down. I will make coffee all day long if it means feeding and clothing them. I do not have very many choices right now, but I know that as long as I have my children, I will be content. Along with spending more time at the business, I have also uncovered more and more evidence of his double life. Credit card bills, unpaid business bills, and overdue accounts have become my normal, daily discovery. As I clean up this new life I seem to be acquiring, I can’t seem to shake the old one that I had so hoped to live. Although he has wounded me beyond repair, I cannot stop missing him and loving the person I thought he was. The legal battle lies ahead…the bills are stacking up….the expenses have been left for me to sort out….the broken hearts have been assigned to me. And yet, I beg for a do-over. I want to wake up from this nightmare and have him beside me once again. I am grieving the death of a person who is not really dead, and this is awfully confusing and emotionally challenging. Looking back over the last couple of days we had together, I would give anything to know when he made the decision to leave. How long did he know he was leaving but pretended to love us? And finally, I rack my brain every day to conjure the memory of his last words to me. It was either “I’m leaving,” or “Leaving,” or “Leaving now.” One thing is for sure – he included the word ‘leaving,’ he left, and it appears to have been calculated and intentional.

Day 5

It has been 5 days. I have experienced more emotions than I knew existed. There are so many questions about why he left. I am not as focused on what he is doing now, but my mind cannot escape the last 3 days we had as a family of five. Was his departure planned? Did he know they were the last kisses and hugs? Did he know it was the last time he would see our faces and hear our voices? What was he thinking when he drove away and saw our house for the last time?

Despite the disturbing details I have uncovered about his possible double life, I cannot stop missing him…cannot stop loving. The coffee kiosk he had been running has abruptly been left in my hands. With substantial help from my father and some amazing employees, I have begun to grasp the most basic concepts of coffee-making, espresso machine lingo, and wholesale buying. The first few times I was at the kiosk, it felt surreal that I would never see him standing there again…making the coffee that he so enjoyed serving others. Today is day five, and I have started developing a love for the kiosk and the business that he loved for the past year. I yearn to be there because I feel closer to him…like he is somehow guiding me as I learn. Yesterday’s discoveries at the kiosk storage room included a paper trail of evidence suggesting a double life. For that I felt anger and was filled with rage. Today’s discovery – a shirt in a jar. I found one of his dress shirts inside of a jar in the storage room. I took the shirt out and inhaled his smell, which had been perfectly preserved. It was such a comfort, and yet I was so deeply anguished. I found myself breathing into the shirt and begging him to give me the answers to this puzzle. What am I supposed to do, I asked the shirt, and how can I muster the strength to be a single parent, business owner, and college student?

Archie is eight, but will turn nine in two days. He is the one of the most sensitive, caring, and intuitive children I have ever met. He has cried a handful of times and pleaded for “just one last day with my dad.” I have found him staring out the window waiting for his dad to return. He has put aside his dad’s favorite foods to save for him when he comes back. I think he is starting to realize that he is not coming back, but I also don’t think that his delicate emotional state is allowing him to fully grasp reality. He has split emotions regarding our move in with my parents. He enjoys his time here, but he has also expressed to me that it “just doesn’t feel like home.” He has missed quite a bit of school, but is also very attentive to me and his siblings. I know that his birthday in two days will present some difficult emotions. I am going to make every effort to ensure that he fully realizes how remarkable he is on his special day.

Ramona is four and the complacent middle child. She has not mentioned her dad often, nor has she asked about him. She has talked about a recent fieldtrip to the zoo, during which her dad accompanied her quite a bit though. I am so thankful that she has these last positive memories of him. Indeed, her dad was so involved with her school activities this year. She has his eyes, smile, and feet, and I see him every time I look at her. I remember all the trinkets he would bring Ramona from the mall: barrettes, bows, and jewelry from neighboring kiosks. He had talked about her teenage years and how much he would protect her. We had joked about how she was going to be an “expensive wedding.”

Oliver is two and was the apple of his dad’s eye. Of all our children, he had bonded with Oliver the strongest during infancy. Throughout Oliver’s two years, he has always been the one to comfort Oliver at night and rock him back to sleep. Oliver has still woken up at night and cried for daddy. Oliver also cries “Daddy!” with delight every time we drive past the mall. I fear the day when I take the kids to the mall and daddy is not there in the kiosk. I also fear that Oliver’s memories of his dad will quickly fade. Will he have any lasting memories of his dad, or will they fade during the next couple of months?

Five days ago at this time, I was happily working on a homework assignment and waiting for my husband to return from work. Little did I know that he had never been to work and was already in a different state starting a new life…without us.