At the end of last year when my oldest turned 11, I became anxious, Anxious to the point of looking around every corner to see what was coming my way. But, I finally figured out why. You see, I was 11 the last time I saw my father. 11 years, 3 months and 3 days to be exact. And in a few days, my oldest will be that age. I look at him and think about how much of my childhood I missed when my father left. I was daddy's little girl. A little girl who had to become a grown-up within that year. That was the year that my mom had to work 2 jobs to keep food on the table. That was the year that I had to help my mom with my little sister and around the house. My childhood was lost after that day in mid June. I look at my Lucas and think how could a parent leave their child when everything in their life is about to change. In my brain, Lucas isn't old enough to go through the things that I did. Or maybe, I wasn't either, but I just had to.
Now, almost 27 years later, I have finally forgiven him, but I know that I could never let my boys go through the same hurt and pain that I went through. He didn't see me graduate from high school or college and he will not see my boys do that either. He didn't get to walk me down the aisle at my wedding, nor will he have a place of honor at their weddings.
Lucas has asked me before about my father and usually I can tell him that he wasn't a very nice man and he left. I know one day that my answer will not be enough. I know that I will always do everything humanly possible for my boys not to go through pain. My Lucas, even at 11, still has an innocence about him. One of his best/worst traits is that he sees the best in people, just like his Momma. And one day, it will hurt him in a way that I won't be able to fix. Until that day, I will try like hell to keep him sheltered from that pain.
