Some kind of things you can never kill
It's you and you only I'm thinking about
But you can't see in, and it's hard looking out
I'm 20 miles out of town, Cold Irons bound."
Bob Dylan, Cold Irons Bound
I'm not going to complain. Not after what the world has had to endure over the course of this year. I'm simply reporting the news. And the news is that, after six years of having custody of my kids, I made the excruciating decision to send them back to Maine and again become a long-distance parent. The choice was entirely my own, and was only made after two months of pandemic-induced lockdown threw all of the tensions and heartbreaks in my home into stark relief. It is not a choice that I ever wanted to make, nor was it one that I ever would have made under normal circumstances. But 2020 has been different, and I had to do the right thing for my kids and, at long last, for myself.
Prior to the lockdown my kids were riding high. My son had made the baseball team at his high school after being cut the year before, and was the opening day starting pitcher. My daughter had gotten an amazing group of close friends and was blossoming as a person. Both were getting good grades, and both were more or less at peace with things.
The lockdown started with two months left in the school year. After it became apparent that they weren't going back to school anytime soon, the tension began to build . The kids began to struggle with the new reality—they grew more reluctant
to do their schoolwork, became more isolated in their rooms, and got
increasingly combative about everything. There was more yelling and fighting in the home, and I began to wonder if we could ever be OK again. They were set to travel to Maine for six weeks after school let out and I worried about whether or not I could safely let them get on an airplane. I ultimately bought then N95 masks, lectured them about how to stay safe, and let them go.
All along, the infection rates were far lower in Maine than they were here in Georgia. I knew that it would remain that way, as the state government was being proactive about enforcing masks and making visitors quarantine upon arrival. As June went on, my son started a job at the local supermarket and my daughter reconnected with some old friends. They were both clearly happy there, they were in a house with less tension, and they were safer. I knew that if they came back things would resume being contentious. I knew that they wouldn't be able to safely go back to school. Most important, I knew that they would be told by their mom that they really shouldn't be coming back to a place where the virus wasn't under control.
As each day went by, I found myself thinking more and more that I had to let them stay. Yes, their alcoholic stepfather is still living there and, as far as I know he isn't working, so he's probably drinking heavily. Yes, their mother remains dangerously narcissistic and out of touch with reality. And yes, they would be far away from the lives they've come to know. But my parental instinct told me that it was time to believe in my children, to trust that at ages 16 and 13 that they would be able to navigate things much better now. I called up each of them independently and asked how they would feel about staying in Maine. My son was enthusiastic and said yes with no hesitation. His sister was much more ambivalent but eventually said OK. I told each of them that I loved them very much and no amount of distance would ever change that.
That was now nearly six months ago. Since then things have pretty much played out as I expected. They have both been safely going to school in Maine and are doing well in all aspects of life. There have been no incidents at their house. The situation in Georgia has been predictably grim, and I would not have felt safe sending them back to school in person here. Things have been much less tense in my house and, after six years of struggling every day to help them deal with everything, I have been able to regain more control over my own life. I won't say that I'm happy (it's 2020, after all), but I see a path out of my years of anxiety, depression, and hopelessness. As the first vaccines are being distributed and the world (hopefully) begins to recover from this awful year, I am feeling very good about my prospects to finally find balance and contentment in my life.
I still believe that I did the right thing in filing for custody many years ago, as they were in a dangerous and unstable situation. But I also see that I made the correct choice in letting my kids go after six years with me. During their time living with me I was able to get them into a better place and to put them each on a better path, but each day they remained in my house only risked damaging my relationship with them. I accept the fact that I did all that I could do to help them while living with me, and I now also accept that I can still play a critical role in their lives from 1,000 miles away.
So I am again a long-distance parent, but I'm no longer the "frequent father" that I had to be when they were so much younger. They are each closing in on adulthood and don't really need either of their parents to guide their everyday activities at this point. They also have iPhones and I am able to communicate with them whenever possible without having their mom as a gatekeeper. I did visit them in Maine in the summer, and they came to Georgia for Thanksgiving but, with COVID now at record levels, I don't anticipate seeing either of them in person for many months. But I am at peace with that as well. I know that they love me, and I know that they're aware of how much I love them.
The way I look at it is that every parent eventually has to physically let go of their children once they reach a certain age and level of maturity. For most people, that doesn't happen until their children reach adulthood. I've just gotten a head start on it, and I have to say that it's been easier than expected. After more than 10 years of enduring so many hardships just to be a good dad, I am grateful that I am finally able to step back and enjoy the fruits of my labor.
I let my kids go, not knowing if they would be OK or if I would be OK. I've begun this new journey, one that has an uncertain destination, but it's been fine so far. I hope the road ahead continues to be smooth, regardless of where it leads me.
