I find Father’s Day difficult

My husband and I have a few more children than the typical family has.  And my husband has always been a great father.  He always went above and beyond during my pregnancies, most of which were very difficult in the beginning, as i suffered with severe morning sickness the first three months every time but one.  He took care of everything, any younger children, the laundry, the meals, everything.  And after each child was born he changed his fair share of diapers and was there every step of the way.  After our twins were born I had to make him go sleep in another room so he could get some rest.  Since I was nursing, there was no point in both of us not sleeping.  I promised if I needed him I would come and get him.  When he did sleep with me, he slept on the floor so the babies could sleep in the bed with me.  He was the epitome of a great father.  As the children grew we did it all together, sports, parent/teacher conferences, practices, all of it.

I guess you could say that I can handle what he did to me.  Oh, I’m not trying to be brave here.  I’m well aware of the damage he has done to me.  It’s the damage to the children that gets me.  How could any father this involved, a man who would sacrifice anything for his children, allow himself to be compromised and betray these children?  It makes my heart hurt just to think about it.  Let’s face it, the damage done cannot be undone.  Forever it will be a part of who they are.  It is not something that they will ever forget.  She may not care about the damage to their young hearts, but I know he did.  I know he does now.  And I will never understand why he did this to them.

I went to buy his Father’s Day card and I struggled.  I felt like every card I picked up was stating lies that didn’t apply to him anymore.  I know I need to concentrate on who he really is and not who he was when he was with her.  And I know I need to remember that he was amazing but for a blip in time.  And I know he’s amazing again.  I’m trying to remind myself that he did finally wake up and realize the importance of his family.  He chose us over her.  And he always chose us over her.  He kept trying to rid himself of her.  But, she was stronger than he was.  And maybe that bothers me too.  He was the strongest person I knew.  I called him superman.  But, she was stronger.  And I suppose her sexual antics were the trump card.

I am not sure how to reconcile these things.  I feel in my heart that this man is still the greatest, with a momentary lapse in judgement.  But, when it comes to my kids, I feel angry.  I feel for them.  I feel for what they have lost and will never ever be able to get back.  And I know they are the true victims in this whole thing.

I find Father’s Day difficult.



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