One day Lily came to me while we were playing in the park and asked me if I was happy. It was at that moment I reflected on my life over the previous year and the amount of stress that had existed and how much easier my days were now with the absence of stress.
“Yes, I am.” was my response to Lily.
And then on a very quiet Tuesday afternoon I had received a phone call from Daniel. The name Daniel appeared as a contact on my phone when I was rinsing my coffee cup, and when I saw this, I thought that I would simply let the phone ring.
But I did not allow the phone to continue ringing.
I picked up the phone, and a very quiet voice came through the receiver.
“Hello Emily,” he said.I said to him, “That wasn’t something we ever did well”
“I know,” he told me.
At first he thought I was being difficult when I tried to clarify things for him. He thought he had everything figured out: the money, the house, the future. Now he doesn’t have anything figured out.
“And Vanessa?” I asked.
“She moved out two days ago,” he said. “She’s gone.”
Then he told me, “I’m not asking you to come back. I know that’s not a possibility.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“I want to do better. For the kids,” he said.
That was important.
“They should have a stable environment,” he told me, “Even if it’s not us.”
“They should,” I replied.
“I have not been able to provide that,” he admitted.
I breathed out slowly. In the past, this is where I would have been soft and taken some of the blame for making it easier for him.
Not any longer.
“Daniel,” I told him, “It’s not about trying. It’s about showing up consistently, not just when things get messed up.”
“I comprehend,” he said to me.
“There will be boundaries. Clear boundaries. There is already a system for the communication. There will be no surprises, and there will be no side agreements.”
“Agreed,” he said.
He told me, “Emily, I apologize.”
The apology was sincere. The word sounded unrefined, not theatrical.
It was simply there.
At one time, those words were everything.
Now, they take on different significance.
He was beginning to comprehend.
“I hear you.” I uttered.
That does not equal forgiveness.
However, it is an acknowledgment.
After the phone call, I stood by the window for a while. The house was quiet. Lily was patiently explaining something to Noah. I could hear Ethan’s footsteps traveling down the hall.
Life was going on.
Later that evening, Lily asked if that had been her dad.
“Yes.”
“Is he doing ok?”
“He is trying to get his life in order,” I told her.
“Are we ever going to see him again?”
“Yes. When the time is right, and in a manner that works for all of us.”
That was sufficient.
After many Sundays, I finally understood the purpose of everything.
The sunlight gently entered through the kitchen window; The coffee was made; Noah sat at the kitchen table coloring. As Ethan was outside throwing a basketball in the hoop; while reading was simply a choice Lily made to do for her own interest.
There was no stress, no apprehension of anything going wrong.
Only life as it is.
To anyone who may be experiencing a similar situation to the one I was in previously, I would advise them to:
Be observant of that which is real to them.
Not that which is promised, or assumed by others, or perceived externally.
Only pursue that which is real.
In the end, it is the only thing that can be relied upon to provide strength.
While I did not leave with all that I wanted, I left with what was truly important.
And that was sufficient.
