Sometimes rose-colored glasses are the wrong accessory
From the moment Teagan had her own room she’s had those glow
in the dark stars on her ceiling. And every night as she lay down to sleep, we
would recite Starlight star bright, first star I see tonight. She’d make a wish quietly to herself
and then it was my turn. “What did you
wish for mama?” “shhhh” I’d say. “It
won’t come true if I tell but I promise it’s a good one”. Our ritual lasted years. My wish, every night year after year,
was always the same. I wished for
happiness. That we would all end up happy. I wasn’t. Six years later her father
and I went our separate ways. My wish had never been for the three of us. It
had been for each of us. He is a
good, honest and decent man who loves his daughter with all his heart. I wanted
happiness for him as much as for our daughter and myself. We just weren’t going
to find it together.
This decision didn’t come easily or lightly but after years
of soul searching the conclusion seemed clear enough …that it was better for
our daughter to be raised by parents who were friends than in an unhappy and
dishonest environment. Anyone who has ever been through this form of hell on Earth
will know how painful it is to make this decision. How utterly hopeless and
depressed it renders you and how insecure you feel in your choice no matter how
sure you are in your heart.
Without doubt we scar our children and leave them with emotional baggage
they will carry with them their entire lives.
I think we handled the transition fairly well. Her father
and I work together to assure Teagan she is loved and it “wasn’t her fault”. In
the beginning we continued to spend time all together and for now we still make
sure there are two parents there for birthdays and holidays. We say nice things
about each other and make sure she knows that mom and dad are friends. She may not be in love with the idea that
her parents are no longer together but I think she is coming to terms with
it. Not wanting to endlessly talk
about it… Teagan that is…we made a deal.
I wouldn’t overwhelm her
with oppressive ‘mother concern’ on a daily (dare I say hourly) basis but I
would check in with her from time to time to see if she was okay or wanted to
talk about anything.
It’s been almost three years and I am engaged and the
happiest I’ve ever been. I know my daughter is happy for me. She now lives in a
home with laughter and love and smiles and hugs and is seeing her mom at her
best. I believe with all my heart that this is a good and right.
The other day I could tell something was up. Teagan was
difficult and wrestles – I’m learning these are signs that something is
bothering her. She’s a tough nut to crack and doesn’t open up easily. So I lay
with her after the lights were out and spoke softly about how important it is
to talk about your feelings. How just by sharing them it can make things seem
better and that I was there for her if she ever needed to talk. After a long
pause and with tears sliding down her cheeks she started to ask me questions.
Questions about my parents. “Who left who
Grandma or Grandpa?” Grandpa I said calmly. “Who found someone else sooner” Grandpa I said again, as flashes of
my childhood flickered across my heart. “When did Grandma meet
Papa?” “It wasn’t for 16 years,” I told her, tying to sound matter of
fact. “How old will daddy be in 16 years?” Ahhhhh I saw
where this was going. My sweet,
emotional, empathetic child was beside herself with sadness that her dad was
not dating. Would he be alone forever? Did I think he’d ever have a girlfriend? My heart ached with the weight of responsibility
and knowing all too well how much it hurts to feel someone else’s pain.
So, I did what every overly protective mom does. I pulled
out a nice pair of rose colored glassed and fit them on my daughter’s little
tear-stained face. “Daddy’s just fine.
He’s happy. Look at all the single people we know who are happy”. “It’s not for
you to worry about.” “You just concentrate on 4th grade and friends
and homework and ice-cream”. Words poured out of my mouth – anything to
make her feel better. Anything to stop her from thinking or feeling unhappy or
uncomfortable. What a good mom I
was. With a polite sigh Teagan wiped her eyes and said, “Okay mama, good night” and rolled over to go to sleep.
It didn’t take more than five minutes after leaving her room
to realize the horrible mistake I’d made. What had I done? After assuring my daughter she could open up
to me and I’d take her problems seriously I’d completely dismissed her
concerns. Teagan can spot BS a mile away. I had betrayed her trust and had
given her nothing to help her deal with her feelings. I felt sick. I
wanted to run back into her room and smash those stupid rose-colored glasses into
pieces. What use are they in helping our children grasp and deal with big
issues in life? Is it our responsibly
to emotionally protect them or more importantly
to emotionally prepare them? To teach
them how to take what they sense or feel or believe to be bad or wrong or
unfair and look at in a way that is constructive and comforting… especially if
it isn’t something we can change? Isn’t
it our job to teach them how to spin negative or worrying or upsetting feelings
into something hopeful… how to find the positive in the negative instead of
teaching them to deny, ignore or cover up their feelings. Boy had I screwed up.
It took me two days to pluck up the courage to approach her.
“Teagan” I said one morning at
breakfast. “I want to retract what I said
about daddy the other night. Can I have a second chance?” Somewhat
surprised and a little bemused she graciously agreed. My heart was already lighter. I sat beside her and started to tell her my story. The
story of when my dad left my mom. Of the times I saw my mom cry and how I
worried she wasn’t happy. But also
about how when I looked at her what I saw was a strong, loving extraordinarily
capable woman who I knew would survive.
I shared how as I got older I wished every day that she’d meet someone
and not be alone.
“So you see? I understand how you feel… and I think
you are so kind and sweet for being concerned about your dad”. “ And the honest truth is Teagan, I don’t
know if your dad is happy”. “But I do know a few things…” Then with
the aid of a stick figure and lots of thought bubbles I drew pictures while we
talked about what makes people happy.
“In this bubble we’ll put work,
and this one hobbies”. I
explained as we surrounded our stick man with things like family, friends, kids
and yes partners. “You see…” I tried to illustrate “Happiness
comes from many areas in life not just one”. “Your job can make you happy and
your friends and your family and just being you. Our happiness doesn’t rest
solely on whether or not we have a special someone. Sometimes”, I went on hoping she was following me “ we don’t’ have happiness in all the areas
of our life all the time…life is always changing and at times we’ll feel good
about one area and not so good about others.”
Looking at our little stick man with all his bubbles, we
decided that at this time in life, although he wasn’t dating, dad had a lot going
for him, with friends and family and work and hobbies and a wonderful
daughter. And that the future
always held the promise of more.
Did I do the right thing telling her a person may not always
find happiness in every area of their life? I think there is a time and place for wearing rose-colored
glasses but this was not one of them.
I hope I’ve given her a realistic and honest way to work through
feelings. Showed her how you can still feel someone else’s unhappiness without
letting it overwhelm you… how to find something positive in a situation that
looks bleak or sad. I’d rather she
pack that in her bag when she heads off to collage and save the rose-colored
glass for Spring Break.
I still put Teagan to bed every night but now we read
adventures like Tom Sawyer and Narnia.
We rarely recite our little poem anymore. But every now and then we find
ourselves looking up into the night sky and saying it for old times…
Star light, star
bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish
I wish tonight.
My wish… is always the same but the belief it will come true
grows stronger with every star.
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