boo is struggling. not everyday. but somedays. like when her dad doesn’t show up for field day like he promised. like when he doesn’t attempt to see her for weeks at a time. when night after night after night goes by and he never calls.
at thirty-seven i have the ability (though perhaps not the reason) to understand enough about drug addiction to realize why he was not capable of continuing to love me. i can remember him before the pain medication started to get it’s gnarled hold on him and know the difference between who he was then and who he has become now.
he left for rehab and detoxed the pain medication when she was just little with hopes to learn how to manage pain without it. he failed…miserably.
i try to think of how her little five/six year old brain has processed the loss of him . i hear her words and i see her tears. and here she is with all this love in her heart. i cannot reason it to her. i cannot explain to her that he is damaged and cannot be a part of her life right now. that the addiction is stronger than the ability to pull himself together and become responsible again.
i wish i could be enough for her. but my kisses and my games and my dedication to her cannot replace the questions of “why doesn’t he want to see me”? i cannot be both parents to her.
she loves her grandads and her grandpa.
she loves her uncles.
she wraps her little arms around them in great big bear hugs and squeezes.
she has an exuberant capacity for love.
bus she misses having a dada.
and he’s not there.