Elliott is and continues to blossom into a beautiful little girl. Today, the two of us spent the afternoon playing with slime, drawing characters from the movie “Inside Out 2”, then I wrapped up the evening with reading her two children’s books that I had purchased for her, books that happen to revolve around a little girl who is growing up with two homes (i.e. her current situation).
As shared in the (below) video’s text, today I was unexpectedly hit with a wave of grief while music was playing in the background, the song “The Lumineers – Stubborn Love.”
Elliott and I were sitting at the kitchen table, the two of us drawing (an activity we do often), when this song was automatically played by Spotify, a song that my ex-wife and I used to listen to. And memories of our family unit lit up in my head. The power of music. A song can instantly teleport me to specific moments that I’ve buried in the back of my head.
Though I momentarily felt sadness, I at the same time reminded myself that I am actually happier now that I’m divorced, living a more authentic life. In addition, I was crying not only for myself, but grieving for Elliott as well. I vowed years ago — long before Elliott was born — that I would put in the work, to guarantee, to ensure, that she would never experience her parents divorcing. And yet, here I am. Here we are. The universe: it was written.
This whole divorce process has been emotionally challenging for her: how could it not? Divorce impacts the parents, the children, the extended families. There’s a ripple effect.
Although part of it me has thoughts of shielding her from negative emotions, I believe that part of my job as her dad is to show her fragments of the truth, fragments of the reality of life, overtime, and hold space and care and attention for her to process — to feel — the emotions. Overtime, I believe, she becomes more and more resilient.
Sharing some (what I consider) age appropriate truths is essential for Elliott however this is one (of many) areas where her mother and I disagree. For instance, when the cat died this past year, Jess had texted me, telling me to “not tell Elliott.” I had replied via email, telling Jess I felt that we are doing a disservice to Elliott, not allowing her to grieve and instead, making up a story that the cat is lost, giving her a false sense of hope. This is one of the many instances that remind me that Jess and I hold different philosophical parenting beliefs.
Upwards and onward.