Their Home Life Is Different

Their Home Life is Different

Their home life is different
And that’s ok,
It’s going to be ok.
I can exhale,
And all the voices in my head can exhale.

I can’t do the work of two people
Even though I’ve thought I have to
And others, in their grief, probably have too.

And I understand the expectation.
It’s a pronounced feature of grief,
Of all of us thinking I should be giving the boys what Lindsey gave them,
In addition to what I can
Because we miss her, what she gave them, and hurt for the boys.
We want their lives enriched the same way.

But I’ve recently realized this expectation is crushing me
And finally see it’s a fallacy and unachievable
Because I’m not Lindsey,
I’m not two people.

In my grief and love for them
I want to do both jobs,
I don’t want them to suffer loss
But this has invariably happened.

I don’t respond with resignation
Or by disengaging.
Instead I finally feel free to do the best I can as a limited father
Because I think they’ve gotten it before us,
Even gotten it all along.

They know it’s now a one-parent home
And I think they’ve discovered secure attachment
And a father that loves them,
A father far from perfect
But present and providing,
Circling back when I leave them lacking or fail,
And finding comfort that good enough has proven good enough.

Because there are days when I have little to give
And there are times when I know they needed more
But I need grace too.
This responsibility is never-ending and solely mine now
And I’m trying to figure out living again too.

And I have to be ok if everything isn’t perfectly put in order,
If I’m not on top of every detail of our lives
And it’s ok if they play more on their own
And have to figure some things out by themselves
Or even have to wait for me to get to them when dealing with another brother.
And I’m thankful for a friend reminding me this sounds a lot like Gospel application.

But I pursue them,
Provide for them,
Listen to them,
Comfort them,
Correct them,
Pray for them,
Teach them,
Feed them,
And care for them as best I can
And find great comfort that God is caring for us all.

I don’t like this new reality
But I had no say in the matter
So I continue to show up,
Giving good enough effort with all I hold
And look forward to the touch points along the way
And the snuggles and hugs at bedtime every night.

Written October 7, 2023 (day 298). My parenting and care for the boys is one of the most sensitive topics I can choose to write about. Nothing makes me more vulnerable as I know many are invested in how I parent because of how they loved Lindsey as a mom, and love my boys. I love the boys too and loved Lindsey as a mother. She was a phenomenal mother and has left a massive void for me to fill. But I’ve been processing this role as a father lately, hence the musings of late. I hope you’ll deal kindly with me in your reading and seek to give me the benefit of the doubt. This musing is about me and my perspective with how I continue to process the many voices in my head and how I continue to figure out how to be a solo parent on this side of loss.