Sometimes one of the boys will ask about him:
What was he like? – (Hard question that one. For a long time while they were little I danced around that answer, but now that they are older they know the truth.) He was an alcoholic and a drug addict baby. He didn’t work really and he just lived to have fun.
Why were you with him then? – Because mommy had horrible taste in men for quite a long time honey and I thought if I tried hard enough I could change him. (Like I said, they are old enough to know the truth)
What did he look like? – Look in the mirror baby, he looked a lot like you.
Why did he hurt me? – I can’t answer that because I honestly don’t know honey. I have never been able to understand it. I wish I could answer that and I wish I could take away that pain.
There have been other questions over the years, some I could answer but many I could not. I remember once when my son told one of his teachers that his father was dead. My heart broke even more for him. Feeling like he would rather say he was dead than tell people the truth.
“Baby, you can’t tell people he’s dead. You have a father, he’s out there – he just wasn’t a very good father and I’m sorry for that.”
