I had a deeply connected weekend with my daughter. We spent 8 total hours together in a car. I spent most of the weekend watching her play volleyball, something she loves doing and I love watching her do it.
We had conversations ranging from boys to dealing with adversity to who she relates to more Anna or Elsa (Elsa by the way) to competiveness and much more. When she was at her most tender and vulnerable she went from crying in my arms to sitting by herself because she wanted to be alone which I respected.
We listened to Do You Want to Build a Snowman and Bye, Bye, Bye and Fancy more times than I care to mention. We shared mini-cinnamon buns from Taco Bell (like knee-buckling awesome!!) and In-n-Out and even made a trip to Olive Garden (OG BABY!!!!).
There were multiple times this weekend where I ached for time to just stop.
And then, Monday night, I dropped her off at her Mom’s house and that was that. I woke up the next day and she wasn’t with me. It’s heart breaking.
I spent plenty of time on Tuesday in tears. It’s so fucking hard to be a divorced dad at times. There’s zero question that it’s the right thing and zero question that it has real implications.
There's something so poignant about having such a deep bonding experience and poof she's gone. I get that it means a ton to her that we did connect and it's deeply in her heart now. And my pain will turn into gratitude when the time is right.
In the meantime it hurts.