It’s Hard Being the Weekend Parent – ryan

I still remember the day we told you the news you were moving. It was the only time I’ve seen your father cry. He sat with you both hunched over the kitchen table with his head down. You were moving hours away, and we couldn’t do anything about it. The children he fought so hard to have in his life were leaving. What a mess divorce is. It’s no wonder it grieves the heart of God.

We had years of weekly back and forth. You had two homes, two families, and we shared the responsibility of raising you. Birthday parties, swimming lessons, doctor’s appointments, and school drop-offs—we were there in the monotony of everyday life.

Now, we miss those moments in between. We miss the hustle of early mornings, and the heartfelt chats while driving. We miss meeting your friends and hearing about your latest crush.

Grief washes over like a wave, an aching pull of the heart. How do you describe this type of loss? Going from a primary parent to a weekend one. Having to reconfigure your role, and the hierarchy of your family unit.

Your brother cried every time you left for the full first year. “Why are my brother and sister leaving? Aren’t they my family too?” He didn’t understand. You had been there since the day he was born. His family unit was broken. Divorce might not have happened to his parents, but he was still impacted by it. He moved from being the middle child to being the oldest the majority of the time, quickly having to learn this new role.

Divorce seems to have a way of negatively affecting all those involved. Mothers have to share their children. Fathers get limited time. New siblings are confused. The children in between are pulled from both sides, unsure of where to land their feet.

I see the flicker of defeat on your faces. Having to drive hours on end to visit us. You miss weekends with your friends, and being involved in extracurricular activities. This is still your family, but it no longer feels like home. “Where did you move the pots?” “I like the new plants in the living room.” You see how quickly your siblings are growing up. You are no stranger to the thief of time.

You walk in the door, here for a quick weekend visit. Everything is as it was before. Your little brothers shriek with excitement and tackle you in a hug. Your sister beckons you to come see her new doll. Your Dad and I sit back and relish in our family being united again. A glimpse of our old life.

Goodbyes are on the horizon. We eagerly try to make up for lost time. We know how fast it goes. Slowly grief grows into gratitude as we acknowledge what we lost, but learn to appreciate what we still have. Letting go of what was and accepting where life is now. Our hearts still break a little every time we say goodbye, the sad realization of becoming a weekend parent.

Distance will never change the love you have for your children. We loosen our grip and surrender to the circumstance. Grateful for the time we have. There is comfort in knowing you are not ours to keep, but His, children of the Most High.