h.koppdelaney / Foter

Today I experienced extreme sorrow.

Unexpectedly.  During an acupuncture session, I was overcome with emotion.  (No surprise there, as shifting energy in your body often releases stored emotions from your tissues.)  Having worked as an energy medicine practitioner for years, this is something I deal with in my clients all the time, and it’s a good thing.

What came over me today however, was deep.

I had a realization.

It dawned on me that it’s almost half over.

Pain.  Overwhelming, and unexpected.  Grief.  Nostalgia.  Desperation.  Resignation.  All at once.

As I let the tears flow, and let the sobbing happen, it did not take long for me to get bowled over again, almost literally, with another realization.

Which took my already grieving and saddened, aging soul, and stole away what I felt was the last bit of strength and composure I thought I had.

I think of all the times I’ve heard a parent say, “It goes by so fast, enjoy every minute.”

And I remember that often, and try not to take any moment for granted, as I know all too soon I will be waving goodbye as she goes off to college, leaving the nest once and for all.

And then I feel anger.

Extreme anger and dare I say it, almost frighteningly primal.

Anger because as short as it is for most parents, it’s even shorter for me.

Most parents get 17 or 18 years.  And that goes by in the blink of an eye.

But when I do the math, I realize that I have about only half of that time.

Because I am divorced.  And my daughter spends almost half of her life outside of my home, outside of my influence, outside of my world.

At her dad’s house.  Living a totally separate life.  Different friends, different experiences, different clothes, a different bed, different food, and different everything.  When I recently caught a glimpse of hundreds of photos of her on Facebook, it really hit home that my child has a life that I am not part of.  At all.

It’s just not right.  It is just not natural.  For a mother to be separated from her child.

And sometimes, when I let myself actually feel, I get angry.  And then that quickly transforms into what lies far beneath, and I break down sobbing in grief.

Most of the time, I am just so focused on my daughter, how she is handling this situation, and helping her navigate through her journey of being the child of divorce.  As many parents can attest, we can sometimes unconsciously prioritize our child’s emotional well being over our own.

Clearly this emotion has been there all along, but I have not allowed myself to go there.  And now I know why.

And today, it hit me all of a sudden.

And part of me wishes it hadn’t.

Yet the other part of me is so grateful it did.

Because now, I know I am going to try to embrace the precious time I have left where we live in the same home, and realize that I’m lucky.

I’m lucky to have birthed a little girl, an incredible soul who has taught me more than I ever set out to learn.

It’s a torrent of mixed emotions, for without that failed marriage, I would not have her in my life.  Yet because of that failed marriage, I have been robbed of the opportunity to be with this little angel for the same amount of time other parents are with theirs.

I know I should look on the bright side, and be grateful for what I have.  I just have to wince, every time a parent looks at me and says, “Wow, how great you have built-in time off….you get nights off all the time and you don’t have to pay a babysitter.”

And I just smile, and nod, and stay quiet.  Grass is greener no doubt, but I would trade every night off for the feeling that I have the opportunity to be the parent I want to be.  I want to feel like I haven’t been robbed of time I thought I would have with her.

I don’t know why it has taken me almost 7 years to really see it this way, but the phrase “hit by a ton of bricks” is not doing this emotion justice.  I have always felt deep sadness every time I drop her off to school on a Friday morning, knowing I won’t see her until Monday after school.  Pretty much without fail, I pull away from school with this intense sadness.

But this realization today has taken it to a whole new, deep sad level, that I honestly wish I could ignore.

I know that running from this sorrow will only intensify it.  But I want to.  I want to run…..far, far away.  I want to grab my little girl and just run away together…..where our souls can just be, and I don’t have to face the reality of my circumstance.

Sometimes it just hurts.  And I felt compelled to share my experience today, as I know many of you out there are in the same place as me.  It goes without saying that no one understands the devastation of divorce with children, unless you have been through it.

I am sending each and every one of you an extra long, warm hug today – the kind where you start to pull away and the other person holds on…..and you melt because they know you need it.

Because no matter what, there are people out there who understand.

When have you had a realization of a deep sadness come up?  In a surprising way?  Expected?  How did you move through it?