At the Greensboro Children's Museum

— Photo by ML

There are about 450 miles between my girls and myself. They live in Greensboro, NC, and I live smack in the middle of Philadelphia. Or, looking at it another way: it takes about 7 hours to get there by car, or a little over 1 hour to fly there. In other words, it's not around the corner, but it's also not on a different planet.

How this all came about is a rather long and painful story. Now, several months after the battle officially ended, the dust is starting to settle slowly, and all parties involved are again trying to get used to the realities of everyday life.

Not too long ago, we all used to live together in a house in a small town in Connecticut. It's strange, but that life seems so distant now, that even I sometimes wonder if I dreamt the whole thing. Regardless, I am determined to stay close to my girls, and I make it a point to speak with them on the phone a few times per week. I also visit them as often as finances and work schedule allow, which currently means that I get to see them every 6 weeks — a very big change from seeing them everyday!

Last weekend was the third time that I visited my girls in Greensboro. It went a little smoother this time, but we still have a long way to go before these visits become completely free of stress and tension. Of course, that may be a rather elusive goal — there are so just many things that happen during these visits that shouldn't, and things that should, but for whatever reason don't.

There is plenty of blame to go around. First, there is my ex who goes out of her way to be as difficult as possible. Then there is my oldest daughter who can be the most obnoxious teenager, and my youngest who can be really whiny as soon as she gets bored. And, of course, there is me, who finds it difficult to keep stress and frustration levels in check.

In addition, external circumstances such as not having a home-base where we can rest during the day, or the fact there is hardly anything at all to do in Greensboro on a weekend, make for rather exhausting visits. Naturally, this is extremely difficult for the girls as well. After all, I'm now the one coming to disrupt their lives.

What bothers me the most, though, is that I'm slowly being relegated to a peripheral role: I'm the parent that pays for everything, but isn't there on a day-to-day basis. I'm in the background, not by choice, but by circumstance. I'm not there for the school concerts, or the Halloween pumpkin carving, or even the Thanksgiving dinner, and I'm not there when they come home from school. I can't just lie on the floor at home with them watching a movie or playing a board game, and I can't go to the kitchen and make humongous ice cream sundaes, or make waffles on a Sunday morning with syrup and strawberries and blueberries. Damn! I really miss these mundane day-to-day things.

I'm determined to stay close to my girls as they grow up. And while our relationship will be slightly different due circumstances and geographical distance, I'm hoping to rebuild the closeness that we had before the divorce. It will not be easy, and it will take time. And yes, there will be frustration on both sides, but I'm confident that we'll figure it out over time. After all, I am their father.

-martin.

P.S. My own father left when I was 4, and I never heard from him until I looked him up when I was in my late teens.