As pointed out in my last post, this blog is more like ‘part 10’ as opposed to ‘day 10’, because due to circumstances, it’s been impossible for me to blog every single day since my husband ran off like a poor little victim.
My last blog was on the eve of my foot operation, where the logistics and care afterwards was orchestrated and fell to my children, who, thankfully, failed to inherit any of their fathers ‘fleeing in times of hardship qualities’. It was a tough few hours, (in hospital) starting as I completed paperwork regarding next of kin details. I had to alter this and amend it with my daughters details. As I handed the form in, I prayed they wouldn’t ask for an explanation either verbally, or with facial expressions. They didn’t and there was no further discussion. Had I been asked, I know I would have broken down and it would have been an ugly mess of tears, snot and emotion.
My operation was at the 4 week point of my husband taking off. (I will refer to him ‘heading for the hills’ ‘scarpering’ etc because I am going through the angry phase of a breakdown!). However, that was 5 days ago. So why for the last 4 days have I actually started thinking him ‘taking flight’ is actually a good thing? I haven’t woken up with that kicked in the stomach feeling, or that hopeless and despairing outlook, or even feeling completely demoralised.
Well, please allow me to enlighten you as to my rather sudden change of mood and wisening up to my husband. The day after my operation my son fell ill and was rushed into hospital. We got him into A&E and he was rushed through. Within half an hour he was hooked up up to to all sorts of monitors, machines, and drips. My husband was informed and decided he’d wait for various results. Odd, I thought. The upshot is, he only came down the following evening because of a text I sent!!! Whatever the age of your child, wouldn’t you be at that hospital as soon as you could, as a parent, isn’t that the most normal reaction?
The longer I was at the hospital, the angrier I got. I was less than 24 hours post op, reliant on my children for help, and whilst he knew our son was in hospital, he was at work not particularly concerned about anything other than his single life ( remember I am still in the angry phase). I think he was in contact with our son but our son was playing the situation down, however, the type of tests he was undertaking would indicate the seriousness of the matter, had you any sort of intelligence.
I’m not saying my husband doesn’t care about his child (children), he definitely does, though the way he acts is difficult to understand. What I’m trying to say is that he struggles with the concept of family, not in terms of taking financial care of them, but in terms of their emotional needs.
Regarding our marriage, our biggest argument was his lack of taking responsibility for any argument we had in 26 years of marriage. Nothing [negative] was ever his fault, laying it all at my doorstep. This outlook can be demoralising, sharing a life with someone who has such a perfect and opinionated view of themselves, it can be a crushing and dispiriting place to be. Even after leaving me this continued, apparently it wasn’t his fault he didn’t come to visit his son in hospital!!! And there it is, that’s the exact moment any and all respect I had for him flew right out that window, vamoosed from the room, skedaddled from my body. It was just such a precise, meticulous and crystal clear moment, that I actually saw respect fly away!
I guess at this stage psychologists would seek to me sense of his behaviour by going back to his childhood. I know he told me it was tough and that he couldn’t wait to get away, but that’s all I know, though I’m not intimating anything else went on. Step families/parents come equipped with their own issues for all sides. But my childhood was equally as dysfunctional and I wasn’t given the time, love and care that every child needs and deserves. However, I made a deal with myself to bring up my children in the exact opposite way as to the way my mother and whoever she was married to at the time, brought me up. But that makes sense to me, clearly not to everyone, and for their own reasons.