Infection

It amazes me how much I still continue to allow him to not only affect my life but to infect my life.

in·fect

   [in-fekt]  Show IPA

verb (used with object)

1.

to affect or contaminate (a person, organ, wound, etc.) withdisease-producing germs.

2.

to affect with disease.

3.

to taint or contaminate with something that affects quality,character, or condition unfavorably: to infect the air withpoison gas.

4.

to corrupt or affect morally: The news of the gold strike infectedhim with greed.

5.

to imbue with some pernicious belief, opinion, etc.

Once again my ex-husband and his counter-part in our non-conformist family, Chris's ex-wife, have managed to sweep in and wreek havoc. It is impressed how such little effort can create such enormous tidal waves of emotions. A gift box and a card, seemingly harmless. In truth they were heart-wrenching time bombs. These little 'acts of kindness' are really selfish acts meant to make themselves fee better, not to actually bring any joy to their children. 

Brian sent a box. The contents of which were wrapped beautifully in paper full of the promise of holiday joy. Inside the crinkly colorful packages more broken dreams and empty promises. I watched as I saw hopes and expectations grow in a matter of seconds only to be crush moment later. Games they couldn't play with the use of the wire-exposed broken controllers they couldn't play with. I reminded myself, as I drove in the down pour of rain and the gloom of their sadness, that it was the thought that counts. I reminded myself, as I spent money I didn't really have to spend, that it was the thought that counts. I reminded myself, as I borrowed controllers from a friend who really vares enough to put forth some thought and effort, that it was the thought that counts. Sadly, what they will remember was not his thoughts be my actions. Perhaps that it where I should shift my attention to, not his lack of action but my continuance of action. Just as I always have done I am once again the Mom who picks up the pieces, emotionally and physically, and makes things better.

When I had to watch as my daughter found more disappointment in the tattered edges of a sad greeting came in the mail, I tried to remember that it was 'the thought that counts'. A half put-together greeting card with 8 words and a signature is all there is of a long lost and heart breaking relationship with a mother long gone. 

What saddens me most is not the broken promises, not the heart break, not the tears, not the time or money lost, but the thread of hope that they continue to hold onto like it's a life raft. I am grateful that I am here for them. I am grateful that I have a loving partner and co-parent. I am grateful that every day I get to hear about their joys as well as their sorrows. This is where I need to shift my focus. On days like today when I feel kicked down by the absentee parents, sick to my stomach with the infection they momentarily injected into my life, I need to heal with the power of my thanks. I need to stop and wrap my wounds in the loving embrace of the bandages of joy, and gratitude. If they can hold onto that little bit of hope through everything then I will stand by them with the feeling that everything will turn out for the best. In the long run it will be so. It is not the feeling of an empty stomach that we remember but the great pleasure of a wonderful filling meal. It is not the struggle of trying to make it out of the rushing rapids when we're drowning but the excitement and happiness of a rescue. In the end it's the good that will prevail.