My son barely knew his biological father and to this day, doesn’t remember him.
Despite those facts I still do not speak badly of or write negative things about him.
I will just keep it vague and simple.
He was young. I was young.
We were both on our way to being addicted and were both irresponsible, immature and selfish little humans.
And neither of us were prepared for parenthood.
But I changed.
End of story.
There was a time where I wasn’t able to function because this particular part of my story filled me with the kind of rage that overflowed and infected every area of my life. The hatred that I had for him weighed me down and hindered my ability to focus on anything else besides my self-loathing.
I spent far too many years walking around like a zombie; confused, and wounded and for a long time, I didn’t understand. I felt betrayed, abandoned, and disrespected, but mostly frustrated.
As each year came and went, my anger continued its’ transition and eventually turned into bitterness and resentment. Those feelings held so much power over who I was as a person and they played a part in my self-destructive patterns.
It took me a really long time to heal from the pain that I experienced being a single, teenage mother.
I had held those negative feelings so closely to my heart and I did that because I thought that to forgive meant that he was given a free pass, and that his behavior would be excused.
It also took me an equal amount of time to admit that I too had a part in the story, and that I had the power to change how this whole thing could turn out for my child.
After I got sober and entered recovery, I finally felt like I could see a different picture.
I realized that in order to give my son the whole, complete, emotionally stable mother, that he deserved, I had to get to a place where I could embrace a new perspective on an old hurt.
I realized that people make choices and their choices usually have nothing to do with us.
Most often they are a reflection of their own character and their poor choices usually stem from their own personal struggles, bad habits, and strongholds that they have yet to acknowledge or conquer.
I leaped out of my comfortable place padded with hatred and I forgave.
After those chains that had been trapping me were snapped I had more room to grow.
I allowed myself to move forward and I watched and experienced the Grace that is given freely to us.
I watched as God provided for my son every single step of the way.
When my husband met my son he was four years old.
And he fell in love with both of us.
He chose to love us both, and he chose to accept us as a package deal-
and even when I sternly said take it all or leave it all, he gently reminded me that I didn’t need to be defensive or protective, even though he understood.
He told me that he would gladly take it all, love it all, and commit to it all.
(And he had no idea what else was headed his way…)
I have had the privilege to have a front row seat to his selfless love and have watched him live out his commitment to my baby boy for the last ten years.
He has had to maneuver and adjust and learn. He has stretched his own personal boundaries in ways that he never imagined and has pushed himself to new heights as a man and as a human.
There was a lot of work put into this transition in his own life, and it shows in his authentic bond, and the natural relationship that has formed between the two of them.
Next month, my baby will celebrate his fourteenth birthday.
It is surreal to me, even after a decade of watching them interact. They have created this unique, one-of-a-kind, special, father-son dynamic and this is yet another testament to how amazing choosing sobriety is. It is like the gifts never stop coming.
I am grateful to embrace the emotions and to be able to remember watching their journey together. This is also another representation of the powerful, perfectly played out plans that can only be authored by God.
I just wanted to thank my husband for choosing to step up, and for providing and for offering support, direction, love, compassion, and a great example of what it means to be a father, a husband, and a man.
Happy Father’s Day Zachy.