The Pain of Provision.

imageProviding for my family is harder than it looks. While it’s important, and honorable, and somewhat rewarding, it sucks. I am a husband, and father, and providing for them bites the big one. It is important because I want my family to be able to eat. It is honorable because it is the right thing to do, the manly, macho thing to do. It is rewarding in that my kids have their mother at home. But it sucks, because I am missing their lives.

I did the math. I spend a minimum of 50 hours a week at work, leaving the house at 7:30 and returning at 5:30 at the earliest. My kids go to sleep at 7:30, so I get all of two hours a night with them. My wife and I don’t make it too much longer so maybe I get two hours alone with my wife a night. Add the 10 hours on the weekend that my kids are awake and I get a grand total of 40 hours a week with my kids and insignificant 14 hours a week along with my wife. I call B.S. on the whole thing.

I miss out on all this time with my family and my wife, and what do I get? Stress because I work on commission, and at a start-up, so I don’t have any guarantee of what my next pay check will look like. I get stress from wondering if this little start-up is going to make it. I get stress from wondering how I got into this line of business in the first place, and wonder whether or not I should run and start a career in something safer, with actual raises, and good benefits. All I want is a little extra time with my wife and kids, and a lot less stress, is that too much to ask, apparently so.

Sucking the life out of me.

imageAs a child I saw my grandparents on either side of my family on holidays and the occasional birthday. One set lived near, and the other a bit farther away, but that made no difference. My grandparents had their own interests and lives and homes and marriages and friends. And my parents went about their merry lives raising their girls in suburbia without the burden of guilt about time spent with their parents. And I grew up believing that this was the norm. That when you got your own family, your parents were secondary players- in the background- and not people you had to have intertwined in your daily life.

Fast forward to me. I am now married with children, and my parents are literarily sucking the life out of me. It started when I went away to college- my mother had been a great mom, but when I left apparently she had nothing else of value in her life. So she called me and my sister (we lived together) several times a day. Asking us, what we were doing, eating and even WEARING. She made us feel guilty when we missed her calls, and genuine excuses like we were at a study group-were met with disapproval and disbelief. We endured all this, since my parents were generously paying our tuition, and believed it would stop eventually.

After college, I began my career in banking which required long hours and hard work. My mother would call me daily. And she still does. We live very near each other still, and now it had moved beyond the phone calls to drop-in visits and her numerous requests for me to pick something up at the store for her. She is fully capable of going to the store- but for some reason, she asks me to do it for her. As if as a working mother of three I have MORE time than her. The thing that really gets me the most, is her negativity. She is always sad, depressed or generally ranting about someone. The store clerk who was rude, the lady at church who ignored her, how her gardener is trying to raise his prices. All things I don’t want to hear. But she calls me (or now emails me) to tell me these things every single day. She asks me to help her solve simple problems that she and my dad can solve (like a mix up at the dry cleaners) as if it IS MY JOB. She is offended if we go somewhere as a family and do not invite her and my dad to go along. Apparently we have to do EVERYTHING with them.

I fully understand there will come a time soon when I will have to be a caregiver for my aging parents. I have always accepted that responsibility (my sister lives overseas with her family) but, I never knew I would have to deal with all this NOW at age 37. I am so jealous of my sister, only having the obligation of returning for Christmas and calling on Dad’s birthday. She has no idea how our mother is ruining my life. My mother is indeed sucking my own life away. In my head, as she is complaining to me this or that I scream inside “You are selfish! Let me go!!! Stop living MY LIFE! Live what is left of your own! LEAVE ME ALONE!”. Words that would never come out of my mouth because I love my mom. Honestly, I am sorry she is sad. I am sorry she doesn’t have anything in her own life to interest her. I am sorry she is lonely. BUT WHY IS THAT MY PROBLEM? I fear the only solution to this, is for me to move my family far away. Which seems drastic, but I really don’t know what I can do…..


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Three Boys

Three boys eighty miles away
Daddy misses them every day
Their time together goes too fast
He wants so bad for it to last

Three boys whose poor hearts ache
The family left in divorce’s wake
The boys must feel the family’s love
Won’t you help from up above?

Three boys whom I love so dear
These three boys don’t want me here
I know I’ll meet them one fine day
For their acceptance, to the Lord I pray

Three boys, they are just kids
These three boys didn’t ask for this
The pain they feel, we’ll never know
I hope they heal as they grow….

The Last of the Great Sperm Whales

imageMy ex-spouse has thrown enough emotionally poisoned harpoons at me to kill a sperm whale. And like the whale in Melville’s tale of insane pursuit I’m just too tough to die.

For those who might have been either stoned, drunk, or otherwise incapacitated in high school and didn’t read the book you can read up on it on Wikipedia like me; the story tells the adventures of the wandering sailor Ishmael, and his voyage on the whale ship Pequot, commanded by Captain Ahab. Ishmael soon learns that Ahab seeks only one specific whale, Moby Dick, a ferocious, enigmatic white sperm whale.  In a previous encounter, the whale destroyed Ahab’s boat and bit off his leg. Ahab now intends to take revenge.

In more ways than one I am just like that whale and my ex-spouse is just like Ahab.  I may as well have destroyed my ex’s boat and bit off a leg while we were married.  I did make some mistakes after all- like the time I threw all of my ex’s clothes on the front lawn because of refusal to hang them up in the closet.  Probably should not have done that.  But, like Moby Dick, who is sometimes considered to be a symbol of a number of things, among them God, nature, fate, the ocean, and the very universe itself I tried to get good with God, nature, fate, the ocean, and the very universe itself by trying real, real hard to make things right.  In order to do this I followed a natural and universal process of reconciliation as offered by most religions, deities, twelve step programs, and chicken soup books. And most importantly, I was really and truly sorry for anything that I ever would have, could have, or should have done to hurt my ex during our marriage.

Lawyers, especially divorce lawyers, should like the book Moby Dick too I guess- and maybe that’s why Moby Dick is considered an American classic tale of adventure and woe; because learning about all the detailed evidence in the book never does get old does it?  And we can’t really ever find the TRUE answers in the book can we?  Our generation can only keep encouraging the retelling of the story so that future generations can learn something from the machinations of the plot lines and find their own truths from them.
The American tragedy is, like Ahab, ex-spouses sometimes sink the family ship without even knowing it while in the midst of an emotion fueled divorce.

How can you tell if your ex spouse is Ahab kind o’ mad?  Glad you asked because you should avoid this situation just like the scurvy.   Back to the timeless classic Moby Dick for one last analogy; Ahab’s pipe is widely looked upon as a metaphor for the riddance of happiness in Ahab’s life.  By throwing the pipe overboard and never again having the urge to smoke pipe, Ahab signifies that no longer can the simple pleasures of life be enjoyed; instead, Ahab dedicates an entire life to the pursuit of an obsession- the killing of the great whale, Moby Dick. 

So me hardies; get a clue when your wife does not want to smoke her pipe anymore because you should take this as a tell tale sign that trouble is on the horizon for the last of the great sperm whales.  

And take it from me brave boys be sure to watch out for those harpoons.  They can kill both men and whale. 

Anonymously submitted by: Moby Dick