I waited all day for a call. And the call never came.
They tell me I have a right to be angry and a right to exact revenge. Some have suggested that I should get even and refuse future favours. Some have suggested that I should yell and rage and even get upset. But none of it feels genuine or really an appropriate response for our modern family. We are close. We spend all occasions together, including mother's day and birthdays. We look out for one another. We buy one another presents and dinner. We are kind to one another. There is no animosity. We tackle life together. Except somehow all of this seems to have been forgotten or overlooked, on Christmas day.
The truth is that I agreed to let my 5yr old son travel with his father and girlfriend for Christmas and they either forgot, or chose not to call me. And it hurt my feelings. Nothing more, nothing less. And I chose to not call them.
If my son was older, I think I may have chosen differently. My son is a free spirit who lives in the moment. And amidst a sea of loving adults and new gifts, I am certain that he did not stop for more than a minute to even reflect on the fact that I was existing independent of our time together. I know this about him. I love this about him. That is also the magic of being 5yrs old. When you are truly loved and lucky, the world does not require you to think beyond yourself.
I made a conscious choice to not create drama for any of us.
I chose to not become a topic of conversation over a bowl of chips and a glass of wine whispered in hushed tones between well meaning ex-family members. I chose to not create a conversation surrounded around the myth of the poor ex-wife who spent Christmas home with her parents and slept in their basement. What should he have done? Does he owe her anything? What would you do? I wonder how she is holding up?
I chose to protect my heart and my pride. And while I have all the perspective in the world tells me that my son did not spend the holidays in a hospital for sick children or in a shelter...but was instead surrounded by love, gifts, warmth and laughter, my feelings were hurt...and my heart got squeezed.
Perspective is important...but it's surely no cure for a wounded heart.
