Some days I look at my son and I feel incredibly bad for him. He's stuck with me. I'm all he has. His father is hardly a part time father. He picks and chooses when he wants to be a father to his first born all while playing poppa to a house full of kids that aren't even his (ok, well one IS his but she was CREATED months AFTER Keegan was born, so it's not like he didn't know he had a kid!).
Then......
There are other days that I'm envious of how strong he is, or in the least, how strong he pretends to be. Take for example, his basketball game last night. It was the last game of the season. They played a total of six games. How many did his father come to? Zero. He hasn't bothered to call either of us before these games to wish him luck, OR after any of these games to see how he did. He merely waits on me to offer up the information. It's what I've always done because I feel he should be present. I asked Keegan "do you want to call your real dad and tell him how you did?"
I was beaming because in a 26-22 scored game, my son got 16 of those 26 points. Two shots were three-pointers. I was and always am proud of that kid. His response saddened me though, because I know no matter how much he hides it, he was crushed on the inside "no. If he doesn't care enough about me to call me, I don't care enough to call him." Those words stung me, probably far more than they'll ever sting his father. My eleven year old had become bitter towards his own father. This is something I never wanted but something I could not prevent no matter how much I have assured him that his father loves him. I asked again and said "you sure?" He shrugged and said "yea." No tears. No real sadness as he proceeded to bring up a game on his phone. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the house. It was a quiet ten minute ride home. When we got there, I simply got out the car, hugged him and told him I was incredibly proud of him for everything he's done and for who he is.
I will never let him feel like he wasn't loved or wanted. For me, it was never a second thought. The minute I found out I was pregnant, my whole world changed, and it was all for him. I know boys need their fathers, but I think I'm an ok double parent/father substitute/however you wanna call it. It's ok... I think he thinks so too.
