The Death Grip

After 9 pm my littlest daughter starts to get really tired, she always asks me "can you come home now". She specifically only asks when it’s so late that her emotions start going wild. She feels this is the only time to let her traumas out.
So it’s 9 pm and an accidental kick to the face happens. My daughter is so overwhelmed with guilt, she apologizes profusely to her sister. "I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry" we hug it out, but the tears have already started for my youngest. Now it’s transformed into something else entirely. She’s crying so hard that her sister (who was just kicked in the face) starts comforting her. My youngest is squeezing my neck, it’s the same kind of hug she gives me when we exchange kids every weekend. It’s that death grip, that please don’t go dad kind of squeeze that makes every part of your heart ache. She didn’t need words, I understood this meltdown was about something else. I told her I’m always going to be here, and that I know things are different. Now things got worse, she’s in a full panic attack telling me she loves me over and over and over again. At this point the other kids have recognized what’s going on, now they are in full tears, holding on to me, crying. Puddles are being formed on me in 3 different spots. I’m creating my own puddle. I’m looking for the words to say that could help them. This is what I’ve worked so hard for my entire life, figuring out the words to say to help someone. But I had nothing, nothing but the truth which broke our hearts further. "I know, I know it used to be me, your mom and you guys as a family, and I know that’s all you know, and I’m so sorry that it’s been taken from you, it is not your fault." They wailed, it was like someone had died. I asked for eye contact for 3 seconds, I asked them to stare at the little dot in my eyes, then told them I’m going to be there forever, until they’re 70 and I’ll still be wiping their bums. I told them that I love them, and they told me they love me forever.
We sat there, all 4 of us crying for 10 minutes straight. No words, just getting it all out. In the midst of the agony, all I could think of was how much better I’m doing now. How the only people getting a piece of the pie are my ex and I. Everything about my life has improved since my ex destroyed our family. And Lord knows she’s living her best kid free life this weekend with the biggest smile on her face. So I sit with them, I cry with them, I talk to them. I can’t tell them how much better I’m doing, how I’ll never forgive their mom, how I’m never coming home. They can’t know all that stuff but they can feel the weight of it. The only way they can truly feel it is if I allow myself to feel it. So I’ve been crying, during Willy Wonka, during Super Mario, during Bluey. Most of the time we cry together, sometimes it’s just me and they ask why. I smile every time, "oh I just miss our family so much, and now things are different, so I’m crying because I’m making room for all the happiness that’s coming." Then I tell them our plans for our new house, my business, Disneyland and all our adventures.
All 4 of us fell asleep on a queen bed. Littlest on my belly, other two in my left and right arms. That’s the beauty of life and love. One minute everyone’s nervous system is on fire, seemingly dysregulated. Alone, that nervous system would be up for hours, on edge. With love, we were regulated, calm and sleeping within 10 minutes. Isn’t that amazing? By yourself it’s like you’re on a raft in the ocean. With love, you’re basically an island, forget about the boat. The Titanic crashed, love is foolproof, love is an island with firm roots that are so secure that you sleep like a baby despite all the chaos around you. The ocean is undoubtedly dangerous and could swallow you whole at any time. Yet on an island you feel secure. With these kids, we are that island. There may be chaos all around us, but we remain calm. Regardless of the tsunami with no regard for anything but itself, we will not be shaken, we will live, love and heal together. Tonight proves that.